fem reader x steve harrington
large text version here!
this is my first time writing for Steve! don't know if I'll keep going, but I've been so into reading fics about him lately that I decided to write one <3 no spoilers for the finale!
Even though it had been a year, it still struck you every time you looked outside how apocalyptic Hawkins had become. Leaning against the window of Steve's parents' home, you peered at the nearest neighbor's overgrown yard and the curtains drawn over the windows. In this part of town, most could afford to bribe or threaten the right people in order to make their way out. As a result, most of these houses were empty.
Steve's parents were out of town when the quarantine was instituted. They called from Chicago to say they were safe, leaving their son with a list of instructions for house care.
You practically moved in, telling everyone it was for just as long as the quarantine lasted. Steve persuaded you with little more than a kiss and the idea that it was silly for you to keep paying rent when the world was practically ending.
Stretching, you gave up your spot at the window. There were no cars coming up the street, and so you had to put away your hope for tonight. Steve wouldn't be home before you slept, and he'd be gone before you woke up.
Your wet hair stuck to your neck as you laid down, letting the strap of your nightdress fall off your shoulder. It was one of his favorites, and you'd worn it to tempt him home in a way. He would waltz through the door and see you looking all pretty and perfect and decide to never ever leave you again.
Turning over to face his side, you released a breath. It was important work he was doing at the station. You used to be alongside them, managing deliveries and hanging out with Steve and Dustin in the van during crawls.
The last time you'd assisted with a crawl, you spotted an army truck out of the blue on the route one night. Without warning, you jumped out of the van and ran straight in front of the truck into the woods, drawing their attention away from Steve and Dustin's eyesore on wheels. Men in camo leaped from all four doors and chased you down, knocking you off your feet after no more than two minutes. You hit your head on a fallen log and collected scrapes up your arms and legs.
Along with a warning from the Hawkins military presence, you were banned from crawls at Steve's insistence. He nursed your injuries, dousing you in rubbing alcohol and reprimands, but you felt little shame. When you ran from him and Dustin, you knew full well that they wouldn't be able to call after you. To you, the mission was too important to crumble by a coincidental run-in.
It was a week ago today that you'd been banished. You agreed with everyone that since you'd been slapped with a strike, it wouldn't be wise to even be seen at the Squawk. Steve promised that after few weeks, you'd be able to return at least during the daytime, but after seven days, you felt like you were going insane.
Usually it wasn't a problem because you were right there with him. Now the days seemed to lengthen, and sometimes he even called to say he was just going to sleep at the station.
It made your heart ache every time it happened. When he was with you, you clung to him in every way you could. A little "Steve, could you pepper my eggs?" or a calculated "My back hurts," knowing he'd use his big warm hands to soothe it, went a long way.
He hadn't called tonight. It gave you a little hope, but you didn't want to count on it. Your mind raced with scenarios ranging from him passing out on the desk to the WSQK exploding.
You laid flat on your back, sighing at the ceiling. Pulling the covers up to your chest, you tried to settle in, let your mind calm. When he started coming home late, you assured yourself that you'd be sleeping in his arms no matter what, but now that wasn't a given.
Reaching over to your nightstand, you grasped your teddy bear and pulled him to your chest, breathing in his dryer sheet scent. You really only held him anymore when you were feeling sad. Usually in that scenario you could hold Steve instead.
Your mind was so sleepy that you didn't register the sound of the front door opening, the soft footsteps in the hallway. It was only when the familiar smooth rhythm of his fingers soothed their way through your hair that you opened your eyes.
"Mm?" Your vision was still a little fuzzy, and you felt the shores of sleep beckoning again. Resisting them, you tried to sit up, but he cooed, gently pushing you back down. "Shh, shh. 'S alright. Go back to sleep, baby."
"You're home," you croaked, throat dry. "Steve-"
"I've got you." He took the glass of water on your nightstand and tilted it to your lips, his other big hand propping your head up so you wouldn't choke.
Steve supported you as you laid back down, kissing your nose. The fine trimmed ends of his hair tickled your forehead, and you giggled. He leaned on his elbow over you, thumbing your cheek, his eyes soft. "Why's Teddy out?"
"Missed you," you said, your words squished together.
Steve looked tired. His hair was mussed, his limbs seemed heavier, like they were weighing him down. Still, he lit up at the mention of something he knew how to fix.
"Give me a sec, baby." He was already pulling off his blue sweater, and you reached for it, fingers grabby. Without question, he put it in your hands, turning to the closet as he worked at his belt.
He returned in a pair of grey sweatpants and a Blondie t-shirt. You were wearing his sweater over your nightdress, cozy as could be. Teddy was still in the crook of your arm, just in case.
"C'mere." He leaned back in bed, opening his arms. You crawled into him, nestling in the warmth of his chest.
Steve pressed his mouth to your hair. "You still want Teddy?"
"Yeah." Your voice was soft.
"Alright." He folded his arm over yours, fingers over Teddy's face. "Haven't seen him in awhile. What's he been up to?"
You laughed, knocking your head back against his chest. "You're silly."
"I'm serious," he insisted, dropping his chin on your crown. "Haven't talked to him in a bit."
Still smiling, you thought for a second. "Well, he's been worried."
"Worried, huh?" Steve nuzzled your head.
"Very worried." You reached up to put your fingers around his wrist, just holding. "He's been worried about you."
"Well," Steve started, laying a kiss on your head. "You can tell him that I'm pretty safe where I am every day."
"No, he's worried about you here." You let go of his wrist to tap his forehead lightly with one finger. "He's worried you're stressed. And tired. And that you'll get too stressed and tired."
He started to sway ever so slightly, soothing you to no end. "Poor Teddy's worryin' too much."
"He just wants you to be happy." You turned slightly and smiled kissed his collarbone. "And preferably here. With us."
"Well, I've got some good news for Teddy," Steve said, tone smooth as butter. "I don't have a shift tomorrow."
You nearly sat up, whipping around to look at him. His eyes were sparkling. "Yeah, Henderson's coming in. Finally." The last word was punctuated with an eye roll that you ignored. "So, we're having pancakes for breakfast."
"Pancakes?"
"Yeah. I'll even pull out the cookie cutters to make 'em heart shaped." You felt like melting. He bent his thumb, using the crook of it to smooth a baby hair from your forehead. "Missed you too."
Turning over so you were laying curled into him, you breathed easy, imagining what it'd be like to have an uninterrupted morning with him. It felt like something out of a storybook, a far off dream about someone else.
You held Teddy close, and Steve pulled your blanket up and over you. It was warm with him here, and you reveled in the feel. In these times, Steve was your rock. The world couldn't truly end if he was still here, kissing you and promising pancakes.
"What else should we do tomorrow?" you asked sleepily. Even though you were tired, you didn't want to miss a single second with him.
He hummed in thought, and you lifted your chin to watch his brown eyes soften when you looked at him. "Well, just…whatever you want. We can rent movies, how's that sound?"
"Yes!" You started making a list. "The Princess Bride, Back to the Future, Star Wars-"
"Which Star Wars?"
"All of them." You grinned. "Can you name all three?"
He exhaled through his nose. "I worked at the video store. 'Course I can."
"I'm waiting." You started drumming your fingers on his chest.
Steve was quiet for a moment. You barely held in a giggle, and he huffed again. "I'm tired. Had a long shift."
"I know, Stevie," you said soothingly, rubbing his chest. "I won't tell anybody you don't know where Return of the Jedi falls in the lineup."
"Last one," he said, and you gasped approvingly.
"Very good!" Leaning up, you pressed your lips chastely to his.
His lazy smile hatched butterflies in your tummy. "Is that what I get when I learn Star Wars?"
"Motivation." You kissed his cheek, then his jaw. "Maybe I'll save those movies for another day. Marathoning is about the only thing I can do."
He looked forlorn, hand slipping under the sweater, tracing the edge of your nightdress below your shoulder blades. "I know this sucks."
"But you want me to be safe." You rested your head back on his chest, listening to his heart. "I don't know, Steve. I want to help."
"You are."
Your lips turned down. "Hopper and El are both in hiding and they still get to help with crawls." Even though you felt like a child, you wanted to get it out. "I can help. I can hide in the Squawk and sweep the floor or be a live target for El. I just…" You didn't mean to cry, but it was all bubbling up. The long act of missing him, the lonely days spent cleaning, polishing, anything to try and make time pass.
He gathered you up, palm at your crown, chin stiffening over your head. "I know. Hey, it's not forever, I promise." His fingers on your back skimmed the space under your nightdress, warming you a little more. "Maybe after this week, I can ask if you can come back to the station. Then we can work our way back up to crawls."
The weight in your chest started to dissipate. He made it sound so easy and honestly, maybe it was. Steve could charm his way into just about anything, even at world's end.
Sniffling, you tried to blink back the rest of your tears. "Yeah?"
He used the collar of his shirt to dry your eyes, then your nose. "Yeah, baby. It's alright." Steve's eyes flicked back and forth between yours, and his voice grew sterner. "You've gotta stay safe though. No more jumping out of cars. If we see any army guys I'm pushing Henderson out and he can figure out what to do."
It wasn't meant to be funny, but you giggled anyways, nodding and sniffing. "Fine. Guess I won't do that anymore." Resting your chin on his chest and looking up, you smiled. "Unless it's an emergency."
Steve rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb and groaned. "I'm gonna end up like my old man. Blood pressure higher than the damn radio tower." He flattened his lips together when he looked at you again. "Keep giving me that baby deer look and we're both in trouble."
"You're the one with doe eyes," you replied, sliding both your arms around his torso and closing your eyes, resting your head comfortably on his shoulder. "Nice long eyelashes."
"Hmph." That was how you knew he liked it. Steve reached under the blanket to pull your leg up and over his hips, fingers lingering after, nearly fidgeting. "I'm serious about throwing Henderson out. Little shit's been driving me nuts. And he's been cutting classes cause he thinks he knows everything." He tapped his fingers on your knee for emphasis, punctuating. "If he thinks he can graduate on trying to start up a banned club, he's crazy. Just crazy."
You smiled into his chest and he rubbed your lower thigh. "What?"
"You love him." Your movement was slow because you were tired, but you reached up to sink your fingers into his soft hair. Steve wouldn't let anyone touch his hair except you, citing the delicate art of styling it as the reason. You were familiar with it; his bathroom smelled like a chemical plant afterwards. Really though, his hair was an intimate part of him. The mask you could lift off.
He relaxed under your fingers, still holding your knee, other arm twined around your waist, hand still under your sweater. Teddy was laying over Steve's arm, half on his chest.
Steve squished his cheek against your hair. "Yeah. I do." He kissed the top of your head. "Which is why I think he's gotta clean up his act. I mean, he's gonna ruin his whole future just to be a rebel. Rebel Without a Cause. Yeah, that's him. And we're the good rebels from Star Wars." He fingered the material of your nightdress. "This is nice. New? Wait, no, it's the pink one. I love the pink one."
You were smiling, eyes still closed. "I thought you said you were tired."
"Yeah." Steve shifted on the mattress. "Sorry, baby. Know you're sleepy. I'll save it for tomorrow." He let go of your leg and took in a breath. "You smell so good. We've gotta shower together tomorrow cause I want some of that." You were drifting off, so you didn't say anything.
He kept going, softer, almost talking to himself. "Pancakes for breakfast. Shower. Star Wars." You fell asleep smiling.
in which draco malfoy helps calm his girlfriend before O.W.L.S
a/n : finals are coming up so here we are! i could use a baddie wizard telling me i’m smart and everything will be okay + during this stressful season i think we could all use someone to be soft with us🙂↔️
an anxious mind consumed you as you sat next to draco in the library. mid day was turning into afternoon and you were still in no position to leave, biting your quill and staring down at your potions assignment. how was it you’d been excellent at the subject until you were about to leave hogwarts? of course the plane would go down when it really started to count. it seemed even snapes obvious favouritism toward you couldn’t save you now.
your marks were everything. not just to you, but to your parents. to them, they were all you are. bitten nails, crease between your brows, a deep frown. how was draco, the person who knew you best, not going to notice? you sigh, knowing you've skipped more meals than you could count and spent so many hours in this library and yet you were still not where you felt you should be.
“hey,” he said in a whisper. craning his neck down he gave a small smile. “what’s going on inside that head of yours?”
your blank stare remained for a moment before finally speaking. “ ‘s nothing,” you murmured. but of course, he could not accept that answer.
"why won't you just let me help you? i'm… decent at herbology. even better at potions. and i'm an even better teacher." he winked at you, pulling a scoff from your lips.
“shut up.”
his pale hand slid over the book, covering the words to make you look up at him. “how about you take a break, hm?”
“not everyone woke up already knowing everything they needed, draco.”
if you were anyone else, draco would’ve given a snarky reply and been gone but you were… you. “alright, you’re done.” his chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. draco laid a firm hand on your shoulder as your face fell into your hands, his other one stacking your books and holding them under his arm. “c’mon. blaise and theo are studying in the great hall, my dorms empty.”
“this is important, draco.”
the blonde boy raised an eye brow as he put your potions and herbology books into your bag. “you know what else is important?” he asked, hands lifting you up by your rib age. “rest. and time with your boyfriend.”
swinging your bag now full of books over your shoulder you sigh, only agreeing to go because you plan on studying at his desk. “i rest and i spent plenty of time with you. i still have homework-“
“which i will do.” draco’s warm, comforting hand guided you through the dimly lit library, resting on the small of your back. “i’ll get it all done for you and then i’ll help you with whatever you need help with.”
the corridors were cold and empty, most students hunkered down in the library or the great hall. christmas trees shined down the normally dreary corridors and snow fell outside of the windows. “you will?”
“after you sleep for at least an hour and eat something,” draco said softly, his footsteps slower then usual to keep up with hers. he shushed her protest again, “y/n you’re smart, and dedicated, and whether you believe it or not you are prepared. it’ll all be okay.”
he whispered the password to the slytherin common room, hand falling from her back as she walked in first. the common room was busy, people on couches with open books and a quills. “go on,” he whispered gently. the two of you went up the spiraled staircase silently, footsteps padding up as the conversation downstairs died out.
a singular firework, no doubt made by a weasley twin, flew out of marcus flints dorm. a first year sprinted down the skinny hallway but slowed down at the sight of draco malfoy. it seemed not even final exams could stress out the boys of hogwarts.
“in you go,” draco spoke, taking your books and shutting the door behind them. sure enough, blaise and theodore were gone, but their messy corners of the dorm were proof they’d been there.
you sat down on the edge of dracos bed, a spot you’d snuck too for comfort so many times before. your feet pressed against the floor, eyes locked onto your feet. draco noticed your every move, your every gesture and sigh. kneeling before you, his hands gently unbuckled the straps of your shoes. cupping your heel with one hand the other sliding around your calf, he slipped them off one by one.
“so pretty,” he whispered, admiring your eyes.
a tiny smile appeared on your face, looking down at him. draco’s pale, cold hand held your cheek and slid into your hair. “go to sleep. i’ll wake you up for dinner and when we’re done i’ll teach you everything you need to know. lets give that busy mind a break.”
“draco-”
“look how warm that bed looks, huh?” your boyfriend interrupted, gently pulling you sweater over your head and grabbing one of his tshirts and pulling it over your head. his fingers fiddled with the button of your jeans. “and just think of how much more you’ll retain when you’re fed and well rested.”
draco took your chin between his fingers forcing you to nod once your jeans were folded on his dresser along with the black sweater. “good.” his shoes were kicked off as he sat against his pillow, pulling your head onto his chest.
draco malfoy was by no means an affectionate person, but that had changed when you came into the picture. how could his soulmate been hidden by the best friend title all this time? he brushed his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing your back. you were asleep in seconds and two hours later you were awoken by dinner in bed and a boyfriend with a cheesy grin.
[fem reader] contains: age gap relationship, innocent reader
pairing: young politician coriolanus snow x fem reader
summary: you wear too short of a dress for coryo's liking
author's note: thank you @phantomamor for inspiring me darling <3 <3
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All your life you'd dreamt of falling in love. Of being whisked away by the man of your dreams in a magical way. Whenever you looked at the illustrations of princesses in your storybooks, you imagined being swept off your feet by a handsome Prince Charming.
There was no royalty in Panem, but Coriolanus Snow was about the closest thing to a prince you could find. He had charmed his way right into your heart, and you wouldn't have it any other way. He was completely enamored of you, his sweetheart, as he called you.
It was exciting for you to be in the public eye, on the arm of a promising up-and-coming politician. The tabloids splashed your picture across their covers, ones with your hand hooked in Coriolanus' elbow, a sweet smile on your face. You weren't used to all this attention, and so you clung to him at all the fancy events he brought you to, which he adored.
Sometimes there were whispers about the two of you, usually about your age difference. It was true that he was ten years your senior, but you couldn't see why that mattered so much. You loved him. And he loved you. He loved you so much that he'd arranged for you to come live in his fancy penthouse so he could have you near, right where he wanted. You had your own pretty bedroom done up exactly how you wanted, a closet full of beautiful things, and his undying affection.
With all the parties you attended by his side, there were all sorts of rules you had to learn that you didn't know about before, things you hadn't even thought of. Coriolanus was always sweet about teaching you, gently reminding you of certain things and making sure you were comfortable among his acquaintances.
You had learned so much in the time you'd spent with him. Which was why when Coriolanus phoned from work to tell you he'd be late and you should go ahead to the party without him, you didn't feel any twinges of anxiety like you would have a year ago. He told you hurriedly that he'd be along eventually, and you happily assured him you'd be just fine.
And you were! You breezed through the party, speaking to everybody you knew and greeting those you didn’t with a smile. You remembered everyone's name and lots of things about them. Coriolanus would be so happy with you. He'd drilled it into your head about making connections for him and you were confident that you'd been able to do it here.
You were speaking with the wife of another senator when you spotted your husband at the edge of the room looking directly at you. Gasping in delight, you excused yourself and hurried over to him, throwing your arms around his neck. "How was work?"
"What is this?" His tone of voice made you stop in your tracks. You looked down at yourself as if you'd forgotten, at your pale pink dress with the low neckline and short-ish skirt. It was pretty- you'd ordered it from a catalogue a month ago and had been dying for an excuse to wear it. Looking at yourself in the mirror before the party, you'd felt pretty. You'd thought he would like it.
In a small voice, you answered. "A dress."
He exhaled through his nose, taking your hand and pulling you into the hallway, shutting the door and muffling the noise of the gathering. "It's shorter than the dresses you usually wear."
"I thought-"
"You can't wear things like this in public," he said sharply, fingers finding your neckline and adjusting it, pulling it up as your lower lip wobbled. His sharp words sent a pang to your chest, and you found yourself fighting back tears. He was usually so gentle with you, conscious of your tender heart and wide-eyed view of the world.
You felt yourself crumble. All this time you'd thought you were doing a good job. "I didn't know," you whispered, eyes watery.
Coriolanus took you by the shoulders, turning you around. You felt his fingers in your hair, undoing the bow you'd so carefully tied when you were getting ready. He smoothed your hair out, tucking it behind your ears from behind. "I trusted you to pick out something nice."
"It was pretty," you tried, but the tears were seeping into your voice.
He came around to face you again, brow furrowed. Tucking your ribbon into his pocket, he cupped your face, brushing away the tear that had slipped out. "I know. I know, sweetheart." Coriolanus leaned in to kiss your forehead. "But I don't want anybody to say anything bad about you. You know how they can be." You nodded tearfully, sniffling and wiping your eyes, a little of your mascara coming off on your fingers.
Coriolanus smoothed your hair again. "I'm sorry. Work was a mess today and I-" he cut himself off. You lowered your gaze and he continued. "I'm sorry. You were trying your best."
You still didn't look at him, wallowing in your own shame. Coriolanus tilted your chin up. "Come on. Let's go back in."
The last thing you wanted to do was go back in and smile as if everything was okay. But you nodded meekly, clinging to his offered arm and letting him lead you through the door and into the party again.
This time you were more conscious of the way people looked at you, the way they lingered at your low neckline, your skirt that didn't quite reach your knees. One man in particular kept his eyes on you longer than you would have liked to know, causing you to dig your pink manicured nails into Coriolanus' elbow. He covered your hand with his, lowering his head to check on you. The second he saw the look on your face, he gave your wrist a pat. "Let's go home, darling."
He lifted your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers, and you trailed behind him like a dejected kitten. On the car ride home, you were quiet, tucking your legs onto the seat and folding your arms. You couldn't help your tears, letting them fall freely now that you were in private. Your makeup had to be a mess by now, but you hardly cared.
Coriolanus reached over, pulling one of your legs into his lap. He fiddled with the strap of your shoe, undoing it swiftly and sliding it off. You watched him do the same with your other shoe, hooking the straps under his fingers and stretching out his arm to pull you close. He kissed your temple, arm holding your shoes sliding under your knees, the other finding your back. When the car stopped, he hauled you out and carried you upstairs, your face buried in his chest the entire time.
You didn't speak much, embarrassed over your mistake. What would they print about you the next day? Would they say bad things about Coriolanus because of what you'd worn? The thoughts tortured you all through the night and into the morning.
He had fallen asleep next to you, but when you awoke he was gone. Usually before he went to work, he would give you a kiss, maybe whisper something sweet before he departed. You reached for your pink bunny plushie with the ribbon around its neck, holding it tight and trying not to cry again. Sitting up, you tried not to imagine what he might say to you tonight when he came home.
The day was spent trying to distract yourself. You were obsessing over the mistake you'd made, upset that your efforts to please him had produced the opposite effect. Really, you should have known better, just like he said. Coriolanus had big plans for the future, and if you kept making mistakes like this, you could delay them, or worse, ruin everything.
When you finally heard his footsteps in the hallway, you righted your book, pretending as though you'd been reading the whole time. You didn't want him to know how you'd been obsessing over something silly like this.
At the light knock on your slightly open door, you looked up, seeing him standing there with a bunch of pink roses in one hand, a box in the other. You set your book to the side, unfolding your legs and stretching.
He set the roses on your dresser, coming over to press a kiss to your forehead. "How are you, darling?"
"Good," you smiled, squeezing his hand.
Coriolanus knelt in front of you, rubbing your thigh, his bright blue eyes fixed on you. He thumbed the fabric of your dress for a moment. “Sweetheart…I wanted to apologize again about yesterday.” He clasped his hand in yours, kissing your knuckles. “I was upset at you for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have known better,” you murmured, and he shook his head, reaching up to rest his palm on your cheek, touch gentle as a butterfly’s wing.
“I’ve been too harsh on you,” he said quietly. You leaned into his touch, and he stood, lifting you out of the chair so he could sit. Once he was settled, he pulled you sideways into his lap and you folded yourself into him, snuggling into his chest.
“No, I’ve been naive,” you whispered, your fingers hooking on his pocket.
“No.” He shook his head, hand on your head to bring it to rest on his chest. “Darling…I’ve been worried too much about how the public will perceive us. Especially with you being so young.”
“I haven’t been good enough,” you murmured.
Coriolanus shook his head, kissing your hair and stroking your back, adjusting the strap of your dress over your shoulder. ”You believe your youth is a hindrance. But it makes you a treasure.” He took your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek. “I love the way you see the world, sweetheart. I love everything about you.”
You touched his wrist, leaning into his palm. “I love you too. Coryo…” Sitting up in his lap, you reached for his hands and he let you take them to hold, thumb automatically going to the ring on his finger, pressing into the indent of it. “You’ve given me so much that I couldn’t begin to repay-“
“You do every day,” he breathed, squeezing your hands. “Being at my side, choosing to stay. Loving me…I don’t deserve it. But the least I can do is give you what I can. What you deserve.”
Feeling as though you were going to cry again, you buried your face in his chest, and he cradled you close. “I liked the dress.”
“You did?” You peeked up at him, and he smiled fondly, smoothing your hair back.
“I did,” he said, squeezing your side. “Just…not for everyone to see, alright?”
“Alright,” you said, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you.
“I got this for you.” Coriolanus placed the little box he’d brought with the roses into your hand. When you opened it, the pale pink diamond necklace made you gasp.
“Oh, Coryo,” you whispered, hand flying to your lips. He lifted the string of jewels from the box, fastening it around your neck and carefully lifting your hair from the chain. Touching the diamond, you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “It’s beautiful.”
“I want you to have beautiful things,” Coriolanus said softly, kissing you once more.
He was no stranger to a gift. Often, boxes would appear in your closet containing handbags, expensive lingerie, shoes. You usually picked out your own jewelry, but this only proved further that his taste when it came to you was exquisite.
Touching the necklace again, you smiled. “I love it.”
“My angel,” he muttered, holding you closer. The feeling of safety that always encompassed you when he was near was prominent. You were secure in his love, encased in it and protected.
It didn’t matter what anyone said. Cuddled into his arms surrounded by proof of his love, you had everything you needed. Your fairy tale come true.
in which coriolanus has had an awful day and only wants his wife
fluff / angst?
being the president of panem was not an easy job. coriolanus relished in his power and it wasn’t the descisions he made that would make anyone else sick to their stomach. it wasn’t the hunger games he had to watch. it was his wife’s reaction to the evil things he did.
somehow, a cold and heartless man, a snow, fell in love with a girl. and not just any girl, a kind one. one full of life and love who despised all things evil. in public, she’d hang on to his arm and nod along to his every word. he liked that about her. but behind closed doors she challenged his every move and never let her hate for the hunger games slip his mind.
“you hate violence, don’t you, baby?” he’d ask. “they started a war with us. we fed them, clothed them, we kept them alive, and they rebelled against us for taking care of them.” she disagreed heavily, but she loved her husband. and so she’d quietly nod and leave it alone for a while.
but today, after rumors of the end of the hunger games had swirled around, coriolanus sat at his desk and drafted a statement denying it and confirming the hunger games would be back this year, as entertaining as ever.
he told the publishers to not let his letter reach the public until the following morning, yearning for just one night before a massive fight broke out between him and the only person he cared for nowadays. she would react horribly and he’d have no footing to blame her. after all, to shut her up when he was tired he’d told her they were indeed over.
“mr president,” his secretary asked, peaking in and batting her lashes at him, “are you alright?”
he paced his office, pausing to look at her. “has my wife called by any chance?”
her posture relaxed and she almost rolled her eyes. “no, sir.”
he sent the girl off, hoping for a call. if he called his wife, she’d know something was up. so he anxiously paced his office, just thinking, for the rest of the day and praying she wouldn’t be too upset.
he stayed late, nervous to go home. what if she some how already knew? no, it’s impossible, he thought, and forced himself into the backseat of his car being driven by a man he did not know the name of.
he soon stood in the cold of december, fidgeting with his keys to get inside. regardless of how serious coriolanus took the snow mansions security, his wife would always make sure every door and window was locked down. she sat on the couch in her navy night gown with her heated curls flowing over her shoulders, watching the news with not a single worry of a burglar in mind.
when the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening, she paused the tv. “coryo?” his shoes hit the marble floor and what sounded like his briefcase hit the table. his soft footsteps padded down the hallway until he reached the her. she had the fire lit and he almost smiled at the sight of her curled up on the couch.
“hey,” he mumbled, sitting beside her. coriolanus’s brows furrowed at the tv, a guilty conscience swarming him.
“what’s wrong?” she sat up, sitting on her knees as her manicured nails ran through the blonde hair on the side of his head. she knew him all too well. “why are you home so late?”
“busy today,” he lied. his head fell back into the couch, turning to look at her. she was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. most galas they hosted he was forced to swat drunk men away from her. she was everything a man could ever want. so why did he constantly sabotage what they had? “missed you,” he murmured, his face burying itself in the crook of her neck, her sweet perfume filling his senses.
“i missed you, too,” she smiled softly. her nails ran through his hair as she pressed kisses to his head. his big hands grabbed her waist, pulling her onto his lap in an innocent way.
“i love you,” he whispered, not able to keep it in. he knew she’d think it was odd for him to say it first. and she definitely did.
“yeah?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. “i love you, too.” she pressed another kiss to the back of his head as his breath hit her neck.
what if what he’d done was her last straw? anxious thoughts attacked him as he held her tightly. “we’re in love, aren’t we?” he asked flatly, trying to be casual about his dire need to have that confirmed by his girl.
a small laugh left her lips, pulling his head up to look at him. he stared emotionlessly at her, one hand holding the side of her face now. “what’s gotten into you?” she waited for an answer she soon realized was not coming. “yes, coriolanus. we’re in love.”
that was an answer that could get him through tonight and whatever argument awaited him. “good,” he hummed, before a smile graced his features and he stood up, swinging her legs around his waist. her laugh rang through the house, his favorite sound.
his arms held her tightly, carrying her into the empty kitchen as the help had left hours ago and set her on the counter, patting her thighs before making himself something to eat with his wife sitting pretty and speaking to him as if everything would always be so wonderful. and he prayed it would be.
reread this again today, it's so wonderfully good 😭😭🫶 coryo being devoted to his wife will have me on my knees every time but there's something so special about this one <3
Request idea for fic or Headcanons! Coryo being super cold / grumpy to others but the second you walk in the demeanor changes to so soft😭
I think about this so much
𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝓬𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓼𝓸𝓯𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚
Cold, calculated and fearless, Coriolanus Snow was not one anybody wanted to cross.
He ruled with an iron fist, eradicating anything in his way. Panem’s government was on his leash, and he kept peace because of it. Still, he was feared.
Every man had his soft spot though, and his happened to be you.
You were the polar opposite of him, sweet and gentle in every possible way. The rose to his thorn, the light to his darkness. He loved, but only with you.
At the end of a long, stressful day, you’d slip into his study and rest your smooth hands on his shoulders, pushing his hair back and asking him if he was coming to bed. And of course he would always give in; after the sight of you in one of your pretty little nightdresses with a darling smile gracing your face how could he not?
The best part was that you didn’t even seem to know you possessed this power over him. It was wielded completely innocently, which only made him love you more.
There was a time when he’d been in a particularly stressful meeting that wouldn’t end, the clock ticking closer and closer to the time he’d promised to be home. It had been a long day, and he wanted more than anything to get back to you.
The door opened, and his assistant hurried through to give him a message, leaning down and whispering something. He lightened up slightly, nodding. “Let her come in.”
When you appeared in the doorway, his entire demeanor brightened, and he held out an arm, beckoning you over. You sat comfortably on his leg, and he kissed your temple. “Hello, darling.”
Turning to the other men in the room who seemed shocked, his face grew cold. “Well? Continue.”
The meeting passed much quicker after that. His associates filed out almost sheepishly much to his pleasure, and then he was finally alone with you.
Coriolanus kissed your cheek, then your lips, softly. “How was your day, my love? I could use a distraction.”
Yes, the president of Panem was a force to be reckoned with. But the eye of his storm was your sweet presence, your hand on his chest quelling any thunder.
in which coriolanus has had an awful day and only wants his wife
fluff / angst?
being the president of panem was not an easy job. coriolanus relished in his power and it wasn’t the descisions he made that would make anyone else sick to their stomach. it wasn’t the hunger games he had to watch. it was his wife’s reaction to the evil things he did.
somehow, a cold and heartless man, a snow, fell in love with a girl. and not just any girl, a kind one. one full of life and love who despised all things evil. in public, she’d hang on to his arm and nod along to his every word. he liked that about her. but behind closed doors she challenged his every move and never let her hate for the hunger games slip his mind.
“you hate violence, don’t you, baby?” he’d ask. “they started a war with us. we fed them, clothed them, we kept them alive, and they rebelled against us for taking care of them.” she disagreed heavily, but she loved her husband. and so she’d quietly nod and leave it alone for a while.
but today, after rumors of the end of the hunger games had swirled around, coriolanus sat at his desk and drafted a statement denying it and confirming the hunger games would be back this year, as entertaining as ever.
he told the publishers to not let his letter reach the public until the following morning, yearning for just one night before a massive fight broke out between him and the only person he cared for nowadays. she would react horribly and he’d have no footing to blame her. after all, to shut her up when he was tired he’d told her they were indeed over.
“mr president,” his secretary asked, peaking in and batting her lashes at him, “are you alright?”
he paced his office, pausing to look at her. “has my wife called by any chance?”
her posture relaxed and she almost rolled her eyes. “no, sir.”
he sent the girl off, hoping for a call. if he called his wife, she’d know something was up. so he anxiously paced his office, just thinking, for the rest of the day and praying she wouldn’t be too upset.
he stayed late, nervous to go home. what if she some how already knew? no, it’s impossible, he thought, and forced himself into the backseat of his car being driven by a man he did not know the name of.
he soon stood in the cold of december, fidgeting with his keys to get inside. regardless of how serious coriolanus took the snow mansions security, his wife would always make sure every door and window was locked down. she sat on the couch in her navy night gown with her heated curls flowing over her shoulders, watching the news with not a single worry of a burglar in mind.
when the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening, she paused the tv. “coryo?” his shoes hit the marble floor and what sounded like his briefcase hit the table. his soft footsteps padded down the hallway until he reached the her. she had the fire lit and he almost smiled at the sight of her curled up on the couch.
“hey,” he mumbled, sitting beside her. coriolanus’s brows furrowed at the tv, a guilty conscience swarming him.
“what’s wrong?” she sat up, sitting on her knees as her manicured nails ran through the blonde hair on the side of his head. she knew him all too well. “why are you home so late?”
“busy today,” he lied. his head fell back into the couch, turning to look at her. she was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. most galas they hosted he was forced to swat drunk men away from her. she was everything a man could ever want. so why did he constantly sabotage what they had? “missed you,” he murmured, his face burying itself in the crook of her neck, her sweet perfume filling his senses.
“i missed you, too,” she smiled softly. her nails ran through his hair as she pressed kisses to his head. his big hands grabbed her waist, pulling her onto his lap in an innocent way.
“i love you,” he whispered, not able to keep it in. he knew she’d think it was odd for him to say it first. and she definitely did.
“yeah?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. “i love you, too.” she pressed another kiss to the back of his head as his breath hit her neck.
what if what he’d done was her last straw? anxious thoughts attacked him as he held her tightly. “we’re in love, aren’t we?” he asked flatly, trying to be casual about his dire need to have that confirmed by his girl.
a small laugh left her lips, pulling his head up to look at him. he stared emotionlessly at her, one hand holding the side of her face now. “what’s gotten into you?” she waited for an answer she soon realized was not coming. “yes, coriolanus. we’re in love.”
that was an answer that could get him through tonight and whatever argument awaited him. “good,” he hummed, before a smile graced his features and he stood up, swinging her legs around his waist. her laugh rang through the house, his favorite sound.
his arms held her tightly, carrying her into the empty kitchen as the help had left hours ago and set her on the counter, patting her thighs before making himself something to eat with his wife sitting pretty and speaking to him as if everything would always be so wonderful. and he prayed it would be.
in which coriolanus snows wife cannot sleep without him.
fluff
the red LED clock on the dresser of the Snow’s shared bedroom read 2:04 am. the first lady of panem tossed and turned, her favorite silk nightgown suddenly uncomfortable and her soft hair itchy.
she’d been trying to find any sort of sleep for four hours and yet no matter how exhausted she was, she knew she’d never find it until she had her husband.
she slipped out of the bed, putting on her baby pink slippers and her robe over her shoulders. “it’s okay,” she whispered to their cat who gave a small meow. she pet her head gently, “stay here.”
the bedroom door creaked open and she shut it behind her. the house was dark with warm lamps sporadically lighting the way as her feet padded down the long hallway and downstairs to coriolanus’s office.
his head hung over papers, a hand holding up his head lazily. his once perfectly gelled hair was now messy and ran through, hanging down in his eyes. his tortoise glasses slipped down his nose and a small sigh fell from his lips as he scribbled something down with a gold ballpoint pen.
“coryo?” called his wife softly, making her way across the room.
his head shot up, his most energetic movement in hours. “you should be in bed,” he said, leaning back in his chair. she stood beside him and his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand rubbing her hip as he leaned over to kiss her stomach. “what d’ya need, baby?”
she sighed, holding the back of his head. “you.” he looked up at her with a smirk earning him a smack on the back of the head. “not like that.”
he frowned before pulling away from her. “this is important, sweetheart. you need to sleep, i’ll be there in an hour or so.”
“coryo,” she whined, kneeling at the side of his chair, too tired to stand.
his hand held the side of her face, thumb rubbing her cheek. coriolanus pressed a firm kiss to his wife’s head, attempting to fight the urge to pick her up and go to sleep with her. “i’m sorry, this stuff- it’s all urgent.”
“what is it? maybe i can help?”
“no,” he said shaking his head, “nothing for you to be concerned about.” a deep frown sat on his face. “want me to come tuck you in?”
she shook her head. “i want you to come to bed.” her hand sat over his, pleading with him. “your work isn’t going to grow legs and run away. it will still be here tomorrow, i promise.”
“so will you,” he said in attempt to make a joke but she was all too tired for it. she quirked an eyebrow at him, pulling a sheepish ‘sorry’ from him.
“c’mon,” she whispered, standing from her crouched position. “you need a break,” she pressed a kiss to his head, “and rest,” she pressed another to above his ear, “and cuddles i’m sure,” another to his neck. “and i can’t sleep without you. so please?” she asked as a final attempt.
coriolanus sat silent a moment before pushing the chair back. “alright, baby.” he stood up, towering over her before picking her up bridal style. her face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he carried her, shutting off lights as they went.
he laid her in the middle of their bed, the california king she’d insisted on getting. he pulled the covers over her before taking off his shoes and placing them in the closet how she liked, undoing the buttons on his shirt and taking his pants off before putting them away.
he shut off the big light before crawling in next to her, wrapping his big arms around her. “love you,” he murmured into her soft hair.
“i love you, too,” and the pair fell asleep with tangled limbs and their cat sleeping above their heads on the same pillow.
in which coriolanus snows wife cannot sleep without him.
the red LED clock on the dresser of the Snow’s shared bedroom read 2:04 am. the first lady of panem tossed and turned, her favorite silk nightgown suddenly uncomfortable and her soft hair itchy.
she’d been trying to find any sort of sleep for four hours and yet no matter how exhausted she was, she knew she’d never find it until she had her husband.
she slipped out of the bed, putting on her baby pink slippers and her robe over her shoulders. “it’s okay,” she whispered to their cat who gave a small meow. she pet her head gently, “stay here.”
the bedroom door creaked open and she shut it behind her. the house was dark with warm lamps sporadically lighting the way as her feet padded down the long hallway and downstairs to coriolanus’s office.
his head hung over papers, a hand holding up his head lazily. his once perfectly gelled hair was now messy and ran through, hanging down in his eyes. his tortoise glasses slipped down his nose and a small sigh fell from his lips as he scribbled something down with a gold ballpoint pen.
“coryo?” called his wife softly, making her way across the room.
his head shot up, his most energetic movement in hours. “you should be in bed,” he said, leaning back in his chair. she stood beside him and his arm snaked around her waist, his other hand rubbing her hip as he leaned over to kiss her stomach. “what d’ya need, baby?”
she sighed, holding the back of his head. “you.” he looked up at her with a smirk earning him a smack on the back of the head. “not like that.”
he frowned before pulling away from her. “this is important, sweetheart. you need to sleep, i’ll be there in an hour or so.”
“coryo,” she whined, kneeling at the side of his chair, too tired to stand.
his hand held the side of her face, thumb rubbing her cheek. coriolanus pressed a firm kiss to his wife’s head, attempting to fight the urge to pick her up and go to sleep with her. “i’m sorry, this stuff- it’s all urgent.”
“what is it? maybe i can help?”
“no,” he said shaking his head, “nothing for you to be concerned about.” a deep frown sat on his face. “want me to come tuck you in?”
she shook her head. “i want you to come to bed.” her hand sat over his, pleading with him. “your work isn’t going to grow legs and run away. it will still be here tomorrow, i promise.”
“so will you,” he said in attempt to make a joke but she was all too tired for it. she quirked an eyebrow at him, pulling a sheepish ‘sorry’ from him.
“c’mon,” she whispered, standing from her crouched position. “you need a break,” she pressed a kiss to his head, “and rest,” she pressed another to above his ear, “and cuddles i’m sure,” another to his neck. “and i can’t sleep without you. so please?” she asked as a final attempt.
coriolanus sat silent a moment before pushing the chair back. “alright, baby.” he stood up, towering over her before picking her up bridal style. her face buried itself in the crook of his neck as he carried her, shutting off lights as they went.
he laid her in the middle of their bed, the california king she’d insisted on getting. he pulled the covers over her before taking off his shoes and placing them in the closet how she liked, undoing the buttons on his shirt and taking his pants off before putting them away.
he shut off the big light before crawling in next to her, wrapping his big arms around her. “love you,” he murmured into her soft hair.
“i love you, too,” and the pair fell asleep with tangled limbs and their cat sleeping above their heads on the same pillow.
in which steve harrington and his girl just love august.
steve harrington and his girlfriend (you) LOVE august.
teenagers are always falling in love at that time of year, including you guys. every august, falling more in love.
steve loves his girlfriends darkened skin and lighter hair. your new shoes and clothes you’re so proud of. your bright smiles. football games and homecoming dances with you. having 8am to curfew with his girl because they’re able to do whatever they want after 3pm. “study” dates. late night trips to diners and it’s still hot enough for you get away with shorts! (and one of steve’s hoodies, of course.)
august reminded you of love. excitement. that certain feeling no one can explain at the beginning of the school year. unashamed hand holding through the parking lot and “accidentally” running into each other in the hallway when you should’ve been in class
for steve and his girl, for teenagers all around the globe, the beginning of school is for new opportunities. new love. new realationships. all things new. but most importantly, the best kind of love.
teenage love. and steve harrington and his best girl have certainly found it.
—
august is my favourite time of year
praying when me and you go back to school we get a steve harrington ☝🏼
in which mrs snow finds something she must keep. and who his coriolanus to tell her no?
-
the garden behind the presidents mansion was beautiful, no doubt about it. coriolanus snow married his wife back there and he watched her from the window of their bedroom as she worked in it in all her free time and whenever the uv was above a 7.
he insisted he hire a gardener to “protect her pretty hands” but she declined over and over again. it was her outlet. her one “real” hobby that didn’t involve hiding away in the grand library coriolanus built for her.
large green bushes she trimmed so delicately and the stone path she’d managed to put in place her self. orange, red, pink, and yellow flowers everywhere with small blue ones trickled without. coriolanus had put a picnic table in it where they ate on occasion.
the only thing she didn’t like was the fence that guarded it to keep people and cameras out. it wasn’t very pretty, but as first lady secret services insisted, and so did coriolanus. it kept her hard work from public eye and left it only to be seen in photos inside magazines that didn’t do it justice. but the fence seemed to have failed.
kneeled in dirt, her gold necklace with a ‘C’ engraved in it hanging over it, she planted strawberry seeds in hopes they’d actually be good this year. focused on what she was doing, trying to avoid a repeat of last years berries, her focus dropped as she heard a weak meow. she turned around, only to hear it again. she stood, wiping her dirty hands on her pants, walking along the path in hopes of finding the source when suddenly she saw her.
a small kitten. she was light brown with dark spots, almost like a cheetah. mrs snow had not a clue how the animal had gotten in, but it must’ve been fate, she thought. “hi,” she whispered, kneeling down and gently reaching forward. the kitten meowed and she took that as her way of saying “yes, you can pick me up.”
she held the kitten all day long, leaving her in her lap when she read and holding her in one arm as she helped one of the snow’s maids, clarissa, with a task. she was already in love with the small animal as she waited for her husband to get home, ready to beg and plead to keep it.
“hmm,” she hummed gently to the kitten. she sat in her lap at the piano, mrs snow’s fingers gently playing soft chords as she stared down at her. “what about… lorelei?” the kitten stood and did a little spin bringing a laugh out of her. “you like that?”
“like what?” coriolanus echoed from the foyer, dropping his keys on the table. “i didn’t know you were having company, darli-”
“suprise,” she said with a smile, standing from the bench, holding the kitten to her chest. “i found her in the garden. i don’t know how she got in but,” she frowned, running a finger down her nose. “it rained last night, it must’ve been awful.”
coriolanus stood over her, a firm hand on her shoulder. “well, you must know we can’t keep it,” he said as if it was obvious. his hand brushed over his wife’s head, refusing to acknowledge the cat because he was sure if he did he’d give in.
“no i don’t. why can’t we?” she moved out from his touch, holding the kitten up to his eyes. “please, coryo?”
“no,” he swallowed, doing his best not to give into her temptation. they couldn’t have a cat. it didn’t seem… scary to him. not presidential, not like the pet of a man who led a country and 12 districts.
but his wife was persistent. she frowned up at him, holding the cat to her chest as she purred. “coryo,” she whined. “look at her. she’s just a baby. her mom was out of sight, i looked, and she already likes me. she even picked out her name.”
“i said-”
“please?” she gave him her best puppy eyes, her free hand on his chest.
coriolanus bit the inside of his cheek before sighing. “i guess.” he stumbled back as his wife pulled him into a side hug, kissing his cheek over and over again. red lipstick prints covered his face as she offered him the cat which he took with a small smirk. “what name did she pick?”
“lorelei,” she smiled.
“hm,” he nodded, holding the creature awkwardly. “i like it.” after a few moments he looked up. “you’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”
his wife only smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “you love me.”
“you’re a master manipulator and i’m an easy target or i love you, call it what you want.”
“i’ll call it you love me,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him softly.
“then i guess i’ll call it that, too,” he said, his arm holding her close to him as the pair smiled at the new member of their family.
saw this kitty on pinterest and knew what i had to do.
in which coriolanus has had an awful day and only wants his wife
being the president of panem was not an easy job. coriolanus relished in his power and it wasn’t the descisions he made that would make anyone else sick to their stomach. it wasn’t the hunger games he had to watch. it was his wife’s reaction to the evil things he did.
somehow, a cold and heartless man, a snow, fell in love with a girl. and not just any girl, a kind one. one full of life and love who despised all things evil. in public, she’d hang on to his arm and nod along to his every word. he liked that about her. but behind closed doors she challenged his every move and never let her hate for the hunger games slip his mind.
“you hate violence, don’t you, baby?” he’d ask. “they started a war with us. we fed them, clothed them, we kept them alive, and they rebelled against us for taking care of them.” she disagreed heavily, but she loved her husband. and so she’d quietly nod and leave it alone for a while.
but today, after rumors of the end of the hunger games had swirled around, coriolanus sat at his desk and drafted a statement denying it and confirming the hunger games would be back this year, as entertaining as ever.
he told the publishers to not let his letter reach the public until the following morning, yearning for just one night before a massive fight broke out between him and the only person he cared for nowadays. she would react horribly and he’d have no footing to blame her. after all, to shut her up when he was tired he’d told her they were indeed over.
“mr president,” his secretary asked, peaking in and batting her lashes at him, “are you alright?”
he paced his office, pausing to look at her. “has my wife called by any chance?”
her posture relaxed and she almost rolled her eyes. “no, sir.”
he sent the girl off, hoping for a call. if he called his wife, she’d know something was up. so he anxiously paced his office, just thinking, for the rest of the day and praying she wouldn’t be too upset.
he stayed late, nervous to go home. what if she some how already knew? no, it’s impossible, he thought, and forced himself into the backseat of his car being driven by a man he did not know the name of.
he soon stood in the cold of december, fidgeting with his keys to get inside. regardless of how serious coriolanus took the snow mansions security, his wife would always make sure every door and window was locked down. she sat on the couch in her navy night gown with her heated curls flowing over her shoulders, watching the news with not a single worry of a burglar in mind.
when the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening, she paused the tv. “coryo?” his shoes hit the marble floor and what sounded like his briefcase hit the table. his soft footsteps padded down the hallway until he reached the her. she had the fire lit and he almost smiled at the sight of her curled up on the couch.
“hey,” he mumbled, sitting beside her. coriolanus’s brows furrowed at the tv, a guilty conscience swarming him.
“what’s wrong?” she sat up, sitting on her knees as her manicured nails ran through the blonde hair on the side of his head. she knew him all too well. “why are you home so late?”
“busy today,” he lied. his head fell back into the couch, turning to look at her. she was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. most galas they hosted he was forced to swat drunk men away from her. she was everything a man could ever want. so why did he constantly sabotage what they had? “missed you,” he murmured, his face burying itself in the crook of her neck, her sweet perfume filling his senses.
“i missed you, too,” she smiled softly. her nails ran through his hair as she pressed kisses to his head. his big hands grabbed her waist, pulling her onto his lap in an innocent way.
“i love you,” he whispered, not able to keep it in. he knew she’d think it was odd for him to say it first. and she definitely did.
“yeah?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow. “i love you, too.” she pressed another kiss to the back of his head as his breath hit her neck.
what if what he’d done was her last straw? anxious thoughts attacked him as he held her tightly. “we’re in love, aren’t we?” he asked flatly, trying to be casual about his dire need to have that confirmed by his girl.
a small laugh left her lips, pulling his head up to look at him. he stared emotionlessly at her, one hand holding the side of her face now. “what’s gotten into you?” she waited for an answer she soon realized was not coming. “yes, coriolanus. we’re in love.”
that was an answer that could get him through tonight and whatever argument awaited him. “good,” he hummed, before a smile graced his features and he stood up, swinging her legs around his waist. her laugh rang through the house, his favorite sound.
his arms held her tightly, carrying her into the empty kitchen as the help had left hours ago and set her on the counter, patting her thighs before making himself something to eat with his wife sitting pretty and speaking to him as if everything would always be so wonderful. and he prayed it would be.
titsay
origamiaround
prguitarman
yousharknotpass
stormborns
