Do you think Fitz and Jake bonded over having shitty abusive dads? Different kinds of abuse but still. Do you think one sad, angry young man whose dad made him feel worthless looked across a barracks into the eyes of another sad, angry young man whose dad made him feel worthless and recognized someone who'd understand?
pls a little imagine about billy taking care of reader when she accidentally hurts herself doing chores? ty!
.☘︎ ݁˖ you accidentally hurt yourself doing chores .☘︎ ݁˖
Sunday afternoons are usually for dozing by the lake, but not this one. Today, you're working in the garden to enjoy the warm sunshine and the green of the fresh leaves on the trees.
The shovel under your boot sinks a few more precious inches into the ground as you lean on it. Now that the soil has loosened up from the rain and sun over the past week or so, the garden is finally workable.
There was a hole in your best pair of garden gloves so you decided to go without them for today, figuring your hands were accustomed enough to this work. A poor decision on your part, you think, as you study the blisters forming at the tops of your palms. One threatens to start bleeding. You've taken off your wedding ring—safely stowing it on a dish by the sink inside—and you hope that it doesn't get bloodied up later when you put it back on.
Gritting your teeth against the sting, you vow to at least get these weeds dug out. You have a precious window of time during the next two weeks to get your vegetables and flowers planted, and you don't want to waste time fussing over a few blisters.
You sink the shovel as far as it will go into the soil, then jump on either side of it to finally force it into the roots of the weeds. You're glad Billy is on the other side of the house fixing part of the fence, because he'd surely worry about you jumping on the shovel like it's a pogo stick.
Getting down on your knees, you start to work in the soil with just your hands and a spade to get the rest of the roots. This garden has been your pride and joy since Billy helped you set it up last year. Tending it brings you a sense of peace and accomplishment. Every new plant and vegetable that grows feels like a miracle.
Footsteps rustle in the grass and you look over, smiling at the sight of Billy walking up to you. He rests one hand on your back as he kneels next to you, pressing a kiss to your temple. Half the buttons on his shirt are undone and you can see a smattering of freckles across his collarbone. There's more over the bridge of his nose that you love to trace and kiss. You love the sun for giving him the little marks.
"Fence is all fixed." He says and tucks some of your hair behind your ears that had come loose from your braid.
"Thank you, my darling boy."
He smiles at the praise. "How're you doin'? Weeds givin' you trouble?"
Shaking your head, you jab at the pile with your spade. "They're no match against me."
Billy chuckles. "I'm sure they were shakin' in their boots when you approached with your shovel and that look in your eye. It's the same one you give me when I don't put my clothes away."
You lean against his shoulder, hiding your laugh into his shirt. "I love you."
"Love you too." He winds an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to press a kiss to your temple. When you go to wipe your hands on your skirt, he makes a soft concerned sound. "Sweetie, where are your gardening gloves?"
"They need mending." You say, biting your lip as you look at the blisters, knowing that he's going to fuss over them.
Billy gently lifts your blistered hand up, cradling it in his big, rough palm. "You're gettin' all tore up." His lips turn down in a pout.
"It's no big deal."
Ducking his head, he presses a kiss to your palm. "Nah, don't brush it off like that. I'll dig out the rest of these weeds."
He stands up and grabs your shovel before you can beat him to it.
"But what will I do?" You protest.
"Sit there and rest a bit." He says, rolling his sleeves up.
"Okay. I'll just," You lounge back in the grass, watching the muscles shift in his back as he digs in the shovel, "enjoy the view." He's so effortlessly handsome, it bothers you.
He glances over his shoulder, one side of his mouth quirking up. "You do that, darlin'."
The second injury happens when you're finishing dessert.
Billy is telling you a story about his latest cattle drive with Charlie and Tom. You're so focused on following along and enjoying the sound of his voice, that you forget your common sense and reach into the oven, without a glove, for the pie.
At the last second, you jerk your hand back, but not before the space below your thumb gets a nasty shock. "Ow!"
Tears immediately spring to your eyes. Your hand shakes as you step back from the oven, bumping into Billy behind you. He sets his hands on your elbows to steady you.
"Let me help, honey." He grabs a towel and pulls the pie out before it can burn. Setting it on the top of the oven, he whirls around towards you.
"I'm sorry, that was so stupid of me—" Embarrassment is an unpleasant emotion because it often makes you cry the hardest.
"It's alright, c'mere." Billy sets a hand between your shoulderblades and propels you closer to the sink. "Let's get some cool water on that." He holds a clean rag under the pump, pushing the lever until enough water comes out. He wrings it out and leans close to you. "Alright, let me see."
You sniffle, but let him take hold of your hand and turn it to expose the burn on your palm and fingers. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."
Billy leans in to dab the cloth on the burns, face furrowed in concentration.
"I distracted you. I'm sorry." He uses his other hand to brush away your tears. "It doesn't look too bad."
"I swear I've used an oven before." You try to joke, but it comes out small.
Billy pulls his chair out and sits, tugging on your waist until you prop yourself on his thigh. "It's alright. Everythin's okay, sweetie."
He situates you on his lap, murmuring about your poor hands. You examine your hands, burned and blistered, and wonder what else could possibly go wrong.
Billy runs a hand up and down your back. "You ain't liftin' a finger from now on." He jokes. "I'll do everythin' around here."
Swatting at his chest, you heave an embarrassed sigh. "No, I just need to stop being scatterbrained. I'm sorry."
"Accidents happen." Billy says, running his hand over your tummy. "Ain't nothin' to apologize for."
"I'm lucky I have you to take care of me." You sigh, leaning back against him. He rests his cheek against your head.
"Takin' care of you is my pleasure, sweetheart." The gentle tone to his words calms you. He gathers a bite of pie on the fork and lifts it towards you. "Here, open up."
You let him feed you, basking in the warmth of his affection.
Nothing is as perfect as his love for you, and as he will repeat over and over again for the rest of the night: you are not a burden. You never will be.
No. No she doesn't. A character who explicitly appears in the narrative cannot haunt the narrative.
The character who *actually* haunts The Hunger Games's narrative is Crassus Xanthos Snow.
He stole the idea for the games from Highbottom and presented it to Gaul. He is the creator of The Hunger Games: an event that occurs over 75 consecutive years and takes thousands of lives. (A likely reason why Gaul is so drawn to Snow and thus grooms him to be her little pet).
He is a contributing factor in Snow's character development, from the Grandma'am's pressure to Tigris's final remarks. ("Snow Lands On Top" is not a saying that Coriolanus came up with on his own).
Finally, it is his fucking handkerchief that 1) saves Lucy Gray from the snakes and 2) condemns Snow to District 12 which kills both Sejanus and Lucy Gray.
Billy the Kid x fem!Reader smut
warnings: smut, praise, mild size kink, piv sex, lazy sex/riding, fem!reader, soft dom Billy
“F-fuck, Billy—”
“That’s it, atta girl.”
A slow bead of sweat traced the edge of your collarbone, slipping to saturate the crumpled shift clinging to your frame uncomfortably. Each languid roll of your hips drove him deeper still, shaping him to the curves of your body, whittling away at the edges of your sanity – stretched thin already by the summer heat.
“I can’t—”
“You can.” The hard line of his voice softened, liquifying with the softest exhale, pulled from his ribs with another reflexive shift of your hips. “Done s’well already, ain’t you?”
Your nod was unsteady at best, the movement stuttering with each flutter of your cunt, the strained muscle yielding to his stretch. It was too suffocating to move more than this, propped as you were against the plain of his chest, fingers bunching at the clammy fabric of his shirt, barely unbuttoned in the sluggish rush that had you saddled in his lap, thighs caged by his palms to keep you slipping from the rickety kitchen chair.
He had only sat for the comfort of a glass of water.
Calloused fingers ventured further, catching the damp skin, pressing the worn lace hem higher so that he might find purchase at the juncture of your hip, thumb pressing into the fold, vice-like, enveloping the bone, dragging you more decidedly onto his length and back again, urging the fervent undulation of your body against his.
You had passed the point of restraint, limited only by the oppressive humidity, heat clinging to your skin like a crude corset, driving breath from your lungs in whines too unbecoming for the open windows, accompanied in some strange harmony by the creaking wood below you both.
The backs of your thighs were glossed with perspiration, slick against his own with every shift, tacky but unavoidable. You were too beyond the point of bliss to care.
“B-Billy…”
“I’ve got you, that’s it.” His thumb dove forward, dipping beneath the now-sheer fabric of your slip, seeking where he sensed you needed him most, tracing the soft ridges of your clit with an absentmindedness that bordered on torturous. “Make it pretty for me, darlin’.”
Your fingers curled, clutching with soft desperation to his damp collar, tender mewls splintering with the tremor that arced through your spine, sending your skin a degree hotter, burning from the inside out, a syrupy slick saturating his cock.
OMFG I NEED MORE OF OUTLAW EVEN JUST A SNIPPET OF HER REACTION THE NEXT MORNING
The light streaming from the open window was torture for your head.You had never felt this sick in your life. Your fathers moods now no wonder.
Shame floods you. What man would take you now? Would it matter that it was not your choice? That bill is your husband?
Billy. How could he do this to you? He wasn’t that sort of man, or at least you thought.
“How dare you” with a single hit billy sprung awake, twisting his body towards his attacker. He reaches for his gun in reflex, pointing it, ready and loaded.
You could only stare at the gun pointed straight between your eyes.
”What are you doing?” He scolds you, drawing his gun back. With the safety back on, he throws the gun on the nightstand and reaches for his pants on the floor.
“You shouldn’t wake men up like that. Is something wrong?”.
The ball in your throat tightened as your tears fell.
“How could you- how could you do that to me?” You choke.
He spins back around with his pants now done up, and crawls back on the bed over to you.
Billy reaches for your face, looking over you
”Are you hurt?”, he asks softly.
You shove his hands off you, clutching tightly at the sheet pulled to your chest.
“I am ruined.
“You are far from ruined” he retorts.
Billy continues with his clothes, ignoring your anguish.
“Billy” you call to him, “do you know what you have done?”
He sighs, pulling on his last boot before answering.
“I’ve slept with my wife. You’ve slept with your husband”, he stands walking over to the window and opening the shutters.
“The sun still rose” he mocked.
He shuts the windows again, blocking the majority of light. You are grateful for it in your naked state. You were too high up for the people below to see but one personal wrongly placed may get more then they bargained for.
“How could you do that to me” you accuse.
“You didn’t seem to mind”.
You gasp as it he said it. His face retorted in guilt, wishing he could take it back.
Billy take a steps towards you but you hunker back into the bed. Determined not to let him touch you again.
He halts. Withdrawing his outstretched hands.
“I am sorry. I should be a little bit more considerate of my wife's trouble. It’s school girl guilt, that’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong”.
“No, I didn’t” you state in a hard tone.
He eyes the bathtub in the room, moving swiftly to it as he spoke.
“You’re a wife now. You have to learn to expect this sort of thing”.
The water rushing from the tap drowns him out to where you strain to hear his words.
“I know you didn’t have a Ma to teach you these things and I’ll try to help where I can but you have to stop fighting me every step of the way”.
Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth. Even if you knew what to say to him, you doubt you could get your tongue to yield.
Instead you cry, big, loud, fresh sobs.
How would you explain this to your father? What of your future?
Billy jumps up from the tub, rushing over to sit in front of you in the bed. You kept the sheet pressed tight against you as he brushes your hair back trying to catch your eyes.
“Please, please don’t cry. You had sex, you’re not dead”
“I wish I was” you sob.
“No, you don’t mean that” he consoles. His fingers comb in a soothing fashion against the side of your head.
“It was a big night. You just need a bath and something to eat” he determined, “hop in. I”ll go get you something to eat”
“Billy, I hate you”, you declare.
He reaches for his shirt on the floor, avoiding eye contact with you as he dresses.
”Well I love you”, he says softly.
“I’ll be back” he promises in quiet voice. He leaves the room quickly and you hear the sound of a lock behind him.
You continue to cry on the bed. All you could picture was your fathers anger. His disappointment at his whore daughter. You would die of shame before you could be saved.
After a while your tears run dry and you sat there helplessly until you could muster the energy to enter into the tub. The hot water almost ran over the top before you reached it.
You soak in it while you wait for Billy to return. The gold on your finger mocks you. You slip the ring off your finger, hurling it across the room where it lands with a dull thud.
Slipping down into the water, you allow yourself to sink to the bottom. If you were braver you would have drowned yourself but when your lungs began to burn you rose to the surface despite your wishes.
Billy was still not back despite it being a near half hour since he left. For a second you wondered if his guilt got the better of him and he left town. But you knew he wouldn’t, not your billy.
So you wait for his return that marks forty minutes since his departure.
“Bet I know a thing or two about your dove.”
“Like what?”
“Like she’s delightful to look at, swishes around in bright colors, and sings like a mockingjay. You love her. And oh, how she seems to love you. Except sometimes you wonder, because her plans don’t include you at all.”
Something something, Coriolanus calling Lucy Gray "my girl" versus Haymitch calling Lenore Dove "my girl."
warnings: nothing but some good ol' victorian yearning and billy trying to figure his shit out
a/n: this was up on my other blog (@carajilloplz) but i wanted to continue this fic because it's quite literally my passion project so here goes
The lace fan in your hand and the spring breeze did little to soothe the flush caused by the early afternoon sunshine, making a light blush crawl up to your cheeks and small beads of sweat pool at the nape of your neck. It was pleasant to be out on the terrace of your friend’s townhouse, basking in the pleasure of not having to fuss over much before the season starts, but the imminent peril of your debut kept your mind elsewhere from the untouched tea and pastries laid out before you.
“Ada, do you suppose your brother’s guest will be handsome?” mused Josie, slumped over her chair turning to look at Ada
“Josie! Hush, don’t say things like that, I’d never be interested in someone who’s my brother’s age.”
“I’m just saying that if he’s going to be staying in your house, eating your food, and disturbing your peace he might as well be nice-looking”
“Perhaps Josie has a point, Ada.” you reasoned. “Do you really know who this man is?”
“I barely just learned this morning that my brother’s coming back to New York, give me a break girls.”
“What I do know is that his friend’s a cowboy at his father’s ranch in colorado and that he’s looking for a change of scenery for a while, so my brother’s bringing him up here.”
A cowboy? You’d seen what they’re like on your trips to Texas— rough, rugged, almost uncouth, but there was something that intrigued you about a man that could ride in the ranges all day and never get tired of the landscape’s expanse. You saw a bit of yourself in that. A cowboy’s the furthest you’d expect to have in New York, especially attending the events of the social season.
“Just cross your fingers it doesn’t turn into a shitshow, Ada”
--
The rattle of the carriage’s wheels on the cobblestone streets did nothing to help the unease in Billy’s stomach as they headed to Ash’s house in a side of New York, drastically unlike the one he used to be familiar with. Is this really a good idea?
"Billy, while the people here can be great gossips, they probably won’t think too deeply. As long as you keep a low profile and not cause any trouble, you should be fine. In due time you can return South." reassured Ash.
“I couldn’t be more grateful Ash, really. It’s just going to be real hard to lie about everything.”
The carriage came to a sudden stop in front of a tall brownstone that matched all the ones next to it, creating a cookie-cutter row of houses that ran down the street until the eye could see. Finely dressed people walked down the sidewalks, conversing or walking their dogs, seeing and being seen under the spring sun. Billy stepped out of the carriage with Ash, giving a grateful nod to the driver and going up the steps behind his host. The door was opened by a maid inside, who greeted Ash with a smile, and as he and Billy walked in there was a rumble heard on the stairs as three young girls stormed down and an older woman walked behind them.
“Ash!” exclaimed one of the girls, her face lighting up as she rushed to greet him, followed by the older woman Billy assumed was his mother. The other two girls stayed on the staircase, offering Ash a polite greeting and peering curiously at Billy. You particularly, wearing a soft cornflower blue dress with your hair pinned up caught his eye, but he knew it was rude to stare so he quickly brought his gaze back to his host.
“Everyone, this is my friend William Henry from Colorado. Billy this is my mother Helena, my sister Ada and her friends”
“Pleasure to meet you ladies, and thank you Mrs. Upson for allowin’ me to stay in your house for some time. I hope it’s not too much of a bother.” As he said this, Billy finally had the chance to take a look at you, his stomach flipping but now for a good reason. His gaze lingered momentarily, trying to piece together the intrigue you caused -- you were beautiful, undoubtedly so, but there was lightness and grace about you that captivated him. You smiled softly and nodded as a greeting, and he couldn’t help but notice the lightly flustered blush of your cheeks or the small hairs fallen from your updo that framed your face and neck.
Mrs. Upson snapped him back to reality. “It is absolutely no trouble, Mr. Henry. Hattie will see to your belongings, but for now you can join the girls and I for tea if you’d like.”
Everybody moved to the terrace once more, Ash being whisked away by Ada to catch up, leaving Billy to sit with Mrs Upson, Josephine, and you.
When Billy had stepped through the front door of the Upson’s house, your breath left you for a moment. He was very much a cowboy, slightly rugged and stoic but a gentle demeanor about the way he carried himself that brought your breath back to your lungs. He towered over you just the right amount and his shoulders, which he carried with a humble confidence, were (weirdly) attractively wide. Josie was also right about something— Ash’s guest was absolutely handsome.
“So your father is a rancher, Billy?” Asks Josephine, sitting next to you and nudging you slightly, making you pay attention to the cowboy sitting before you. Josie’s bluntness made you blush, elbowing her and shooting her a warning glance. “I apologize, if you don’t mind us calling you Billy.”
“I don’t mind that at all, I quite prefer it actually.” He swallowed before continuing, a strain in his face that piqued your curiosity. “And yes, my father owns a few ranches along the Arkansas river.”
“How wonderful, must be a beautiful sight.” you mention absentmindedly, picturing the mountains and the rolling hills that you imagine as his home. A small smile breaking his face snaps you back into the moment and it makes your stomach warm and cracks a smile out of you too.
“It is, really. Y’all should visit sometime, it’s beautiful around this time of year.”
“That’s quite a nice idea, William we would love to see your father’s ranches.” remarked Mrs. Upson, “I know you must be tired from your travels, but will you be joining us at the soiree tonight?”
“I’d love to, Mrs. Upson, what’s the occasion?”
“The girl’s debut this season! It’s just something small with some family friends before the ball tomorrow.”
Billy was visibly confused, “Debut?”
“It’s a ball where the girls get paraded around in white dresses like cattle so they can get married off” interjects Ash, joining them. “Frankly it’s degrading, but it’s tradition.”
Your stomach churned. Degrading is the perfect word to describe it. You were not looking forward to the next few months of insipid suitors and the prospect of a proposal. It’s not like you were completely opposed to a proposal, but this culling process was not the way you wanted to approach it. Yet, as Ash said, it’s tradition.
“Sounds…grueling” Billy admits.
“Absolutely. The balls are quite fun though.” says Josie.
Later that night, the Upson household was bustling with people laughing, drinks pouring, and conversation buzzing with excitement about the upcoming season. Poor Billy looked like a fish out of water, dressed in one of Ash’s suits that he was visibly unaccustomed to using. You looked at the interactions from afar, Billy charming but clearly feeling uncomfortable, as you could see with the tension in his sharp jaw. Josie, a little bit tipsy, comes up to you and leans in with a giggle.
“Have you noticed he’s been staring at you all night?” she whispers.
A blush creeps onto your cheeks and you try to hold back a smile “And what would make you say such a wild thing, Josie? Is it the champagne?”
Josie placed her hand on her chest in fake offense “Gah! You offend me darling”
“What’d she do now, Jo?” Ada, also a few drinks in, accuses cheekily.
“She doesn’t believe that she is the most stunning girl in the room and that Mr. Cowboy here has been stealing a few glances.”
“Oh Josie is right, you’ve been the only one he’s looked at.”
You noticed that he had excused himself from the conversation across the room and headed to the drinks table where the three of you were located, a soft smile greeting you and making your heart flutter. You realized then and there that you would find it impossible to get tired of his deep, kind blue eyes.
“How’s the night treating you, Billy?” asks Josie. Billy lets out a small laugh and glances at you and Ada.
“She needs to start findin’ her way home don’t she?”
Josie scowls, and you and Ada are laughing at your friend’s cheeky behavior “Gosh, you’re no fun! I’m just getting started, Billy boy.”
“Oh she is, Billy. She always has a few too many glasses of champagne but she’s great fun” you say with a smile. You both meet eyes for a moment but you drop your gaze after a second, a bashful blush painting your cheeks.
“All three of y’all seem like great fun, champagne or not. I’m lookin’ forward to my stay here.” he admits. Billy gives you a smile too, picking the eye contact back up and going to say something before Ada interrupts.
“We should cheers to that then!” she says, serving each one a glass of champagne and handing it to them. “To Billy’s fruitful stay in New York!”
You all clink your glasses together and you down yours mostly in a few sips.
“Josie, you should go play some music!” squeals Ada, grabbing Josie, who is also downing her glass and pulls her towards the piano at the other side of the room.
You and Billy share a laugh at the antics of your friends, and you go to serve some more champagne for the two of you. The sudden closeness between the two of you caused your heart to skip a beat, making it hard to keep your hand steady as you tried to steal a look. The bubbly buzz of the champagne was getting to your head a little and you faltered a few drops onto your dress.
As you served some into Billy’s glass, you couldn’t stop yourself from commenting—“Your accent slips out a little more when you’re drinkin’ Billy.” you noticed. It was cute though, your time in Texas had made you fond of a southern drawl.
“Does it really? You’ve kinda got one too.” he points out with a laugh, looking down at you through half-lidded eyes.
“Do I? It’s probably the champagne, I apologize.” you laugh, a light smile covered by a laced hand spreads on your face and you look up at him. “I haven’t been down south in forever, I thought it’d gone away”
“You’ve been?” he asks furrowing his brow in question and developing a curious smile. He quickly dismissed the thought of how much he loved the way your eyes looked from below him. “Didn’t take you for a southern girl.”
You let out a shy laugh and looked down, “I grew up in Texas and moved here with my mother and sister when I was eleven. My father’s still down there. He’s got an oil field in the Panhandle and takes care of a few ranches in the prairie near Dallas.”
Billy nodded, slightly surprised but still, extremely curious and amused by your personal history. He’d wondered whether he’d seen the same prairies as you had grown up in, fallen in love with the same nature.
“Well darlin’ I’m quite surprised,” his stomach churned at his lie— “I’m used to Colorado but I’ve been to Texas quite a few times and I can’t wait to go back.”
“Me neither,” you confess, staring wistfully at your cup. “My father comes up every once in a while but I haven’t been since I was fifteen.”
“I’d happily take you if it’ll get that downhearted look off your face.” he said softly, placing a gentle hand on your arm and giving you the most comforting smile. All of this made your heart flip and your chest tighten the lightest bit in fear. You’d had one or two callers before that had caught your heart, but whatever Billy did to you was different. Speaking to him felt familiar and the slightly calloused feel of his hand on you was a commiserative connection back to the wild girl you had once been. Being in New York tamed you, but he had a look that took you right back home.
You couldn’t. With a polite smile, you leaned out of his touch after a few moments and tried to will the blush off your cheeks.
“I’d much like that Mr. Henry, I appreciate the invitation.” He nodded curtly in response, a little confused at your sudden distance. “I should catch up with my friends. Enjoy your evening.”
You walked away, your heart almost beating out of your ribcage as you made a beeline to your friends. Looking around discreetly to see if anyone had noticed your interaction with Billy, you caught the curious eye of your sister and her fiance, giving them a dismissive stare and catching up to Josie and Ada, who were sitting at the piano.
The rest of the night you stuck to your friends, the drinks pouring and the conversation flowing through the bustle of people in the salon. As you stepped through the balcony doors to take a breath, remembering the feeling of Billy's touch and the way he made you feel, your sister followed you through. It was pathetic how he had affected you so much with a single touch.
Your sister, accompanied by her fiance Theo, stared at you teasingly.
“And what was that with Ash's friend?” She asks, “I know you have a thing for cowboys.”
With a rush of blood to your face once more, you dismissed her with a gesture of your hand.
“Stop it Clemmie, you know that stupid crush was forever ago, and there is nothing going on with Mr. Henry.”
“He looks awfully familiar, somehow.” Theo comments. “Feels like I’ve seen him before”
“Theo, my love, you know I adore you but just because we went back home last summer doesn’t mean you know everyone in the South.” Your sister says, giving her fiance a teasing tap on his cheek. “Well, from what I've heard through the grapevine he is truly an uncut gem so I say go for it”
You blush, impossibly even more, at her comment. “Shut it Clemmie, my debut is tomorrow and I cannot have you putting stupid things in my head.”
“But he’s quite darling isn’t he?”
Hesitating, you sighed, staring wistfully at the man inside, speaking with Ash and somehow stirring your heart from afar, “I won’t deny that.”
Regretting just now seeing your post, will definitely be checking out your other works 🥸🥸 but if you’re not yet tired of the Henry fics may I throw my hat into the suggestion ring :D
This suggestion is more nsfw in nature, but I would loveee to see how a nsfw interaction would be after returning from a failed escape attempt. There’s always that layer of aggression that pokes through in the interactions. I would love to see how that translates when he’s making it clear he’s upset and is intending to punish. When the already very thin veil of sweetness is completely dropped and the interaction is intended to act almost as a deterrent from thoughts of escaping.
It would be interesting to see how he uses manipulation and the readers depenency to see how far he can push them. How much they are willing to take as punishment when successful manipulated into thinking they genuinely did something wrong.
While still being pleasurable ofc
Holy yap sorry about that.. regardless if you end up taking the suggestion trust I will be patiently sat for your next piece (no rush of course).
Thanks for your consideration and keep up the amazing work 😁
yap away you guys i get u
nsfw, 1208 words henry creel x reader
Henry’s fingers were tight around your arm as he dragged you through the front door, the stained glass rattling a little as he slammed it shut behind him. He held you in front of him, forcing you up the stairs, caring so little for your stumbling that he would step over your feet if he had to. Your foot caught on the rug at the top of the steps, bringing the edge up to catch your other foot.
Henry did not care, pulling you up and pushing you forward, towards the door of his room. You had been in his room before, with and without him knowing. In the times you had snooped, you were careful, replacing everything to exactly the way it had been. Henry was not careful with you now, shoving you to the bed before pushing you into it.
He looked like a predator now, the skin around his eyes reddened and his brow furrowed. It made you feel like prey. Though he was handsome, and though you desired him, moments like this made you long to escape back into the woods he had just dragged you from. His sick gaze traveled over your body, still panting from the running. The hair on your head was messy and out of place, not like how you usually presented yourself in front of him.
Henry slowly kneeled over you, his knee making a dent in the plush bed next to your hips. His hand came to your shoulder, pressing it into the bed as his other leg settled at your side.
“Do you really think you would find anyone who would worship you enough to do what I do for you?” He questioned silently, his tone gentle, but warning. He brought his head down to yours, his lips brushing up against the lobe of your ear, “anyone capable of keeping you safe in the way that I do?”
You shook your head ‘no’ slowly, still too anxious to speak. Henry hummed a little at your response, before speaking gently again.
“You’re a big girl; you can use your words.” Henry’s tone may have been sweet, inviting, but it was threatening, impatient.
“No, Henry.” He smiled at this, placing small, teasing kisses down your neck. After your last escape attempt, Henry hadn’t spoken to you for a week. The time before that, he had conveniently missed two days of the meals he had got you used to him providing. As you wondered what he would do this time, his fingers slid up your thighs, under the dress you were wearing.
“That’s my girl.” His fingers remained teasing, never going where they should. Your head fell back with an exhale as they feathered over your hips, praying to whatever god there was that he wouldn’t do this forever.
“I know that you’re scared.” As though he heard your prayers, Henry took a little pity on you and slipped his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly working them down as he continued to speak. “I would be too, if I was you. You’re in an unfamiliar place, you’ve been told the only place you’ve ever called home isn’t safe, and you don’t even have the choice to go back. That’s terrifying, isn’t it?”
You nodded along to his words, afraid to admit it out loud. It was terrifying, Henry was terrifying. Henry grinned in some sick sort of delight as you nodded, letting his teeth graze over your collarbone.
“You’re a very brave girl, you know,” His voice was syrupy sweet. “But after I’ve warned you countless times not to defy my one rule, you’re still stupid enough to try.”
When he managed to bring the elastic waistband of your panties below your butt, he slowly brought his fingers between your thighs, inching them towards the heat of your core. One of his hands came back up and gripped at your chin rather tightly, forcing you to look directly at him, his gaze dark and calculating, as his other hand cupped your mound. Henry was angry, pissed off even, and you knew it, but he was still surprisingly gentle.
“You’re so very brave…” He murmured, repeating the thought, as his fingers explored your wet folds, massaging over your clit, making you writhe beneath him. As your hips bucked up into his hand, he let out a bitter chuckle, squeezing your jaw tighter. “You would think you’d be smart enough to see what’s good for you.”
Henry kept massaging his fingers into the bundle of nerves, enjoying the sight of you writhing around and moaning beneath him. When he slipped a finger down and pushed it inside you, he brought his mouth back up to your ear, whispering softly; “You aren’t invincible, you can’t handle those monsters alone. You’ll be ripped apart, eaten for an afternoon snack.”
His voice hissing in your ear both terrified you and aroused you. He was right and you knew it; you were no match for whatever those things were. Did you only ever run just because you couldn’t trust him? Why couldn’t you trust him in the first place? He saved you! Was it because you thought there was something off about him, something inherently wrong? You weren’t sure.
If he could read your thoughts, he wasn’t showing it, only slipping another finger inside and picking up the pace, still holding you down by the jaw. “Perhaps I’ll let you sleep outside tonight, since you’re so eager to be out there.”
His threat frightened you, but you tried not to show it, whatever it was he threw at you, you could take it.
“I could leave you as bait for those monsters, let your scent lead them here so I can defeat more of them.” The pace of his fingers picked up with the intensity of his threats, and you could feel a pressure building deep in your core. “They wouldn’t be as kind to you as I am, they see you as food.”
As the pressure built in your core, Henry’s voice became more and more threatening, unhinged. “Would you like that, being left out to die?”
You shook your head ‘no’ as best as you could in his grasp, but he kept speaking.
“You think that you’re so brave, so smart, but you’re just as scared as everyone else, you’re no hero.” His fingers kept pumping in and out, bringing you closer and closer, until they retreated just as you were about to reach your peak. Henry wasn’t going to let you cum. His hands retreated from your jaw and the apex of your thighs to unbuckle his belt. Looking him over, he was not the same man who had supposedly rescued you, his hair was disheveled, his gaze was anything but kind. His brow furrowed with thought as he shoved his pants down. His hand quickly came to the crown of your head, gripping the hair there tightly as he shoved you back down into the bed.
This was a man who wanted to hurt you for disobeying him, knowing you would chose the safety of the pain he inflicted over the mystery of what may happen to you by yourself, and for now, you would have to accept that.
Summary: Coriolanus goes to District 2 for officer training, as a gap year before returning to the Capitol to study under Dr Gaul. There he finds you. Your devotion to your little cousin, reminds him of the only love he has ever known.
warnings: Dead Dove do not eat, stalking, emotional abuse, obsession, Coryo being de lu lu, power imbalance.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4 coming soon
Word count: 10, 079
With officer assessment closing in, Coriolanus found himself busier than ever. No matter how early he started, no matter how much he did, others closed in on his points. The time spent at your house put him behind. While other earned double points for late night patrol, he sat at your kitchen table with little welcome.
With the capitol presents under his arm, he thought he might get at least a smile but you greeted him with your usual scrowl, stepping reluctantly out of his way.
He kisses your cheek as he enters but his main focus was on Loretta at the table.
She always perked up upon seeing him. Coriolanus always had a treat for her. He unboxes the doll as he walked towards her, reaching the porcelain doll out and using it to pretend to place a kiss on Loretta round cheek.
The child squealed, taking the doll into her hands and petting the fake blonde hair.
Coriolanus takes a seat next to her, revealing in the joy he could bring at least one of you.
“Do you like her?”. He asked Loretta.
”Yes!”, Loretta praised, hugging the doll to her chest. He looks back to you with a grin, gloating in his success. Your eyes are trained on Loretta. He could tell by your silence that you were happy he brought the toy, no matter how you complain.
he reaches down into his bag, pulling out your present and holding it out for you.
You don’t take it. Just stare at him in a curious gaze. Coriolanus shakes the box at you, urging you to take it.
Loretta sits up in her chair when you do, wanting to get a better view.
“What Is it?” Loretta asked.
With the ribbon off you could open the lid off to reveal the gold bracelet which you show to Loretta.
Lorreta lets out a sound of approval, leaning over the table to get a better look.
You were close enough for Coriolanus to take the box from you. His hand uncloses your wrist and tugs you closer to him so he could place the bracelet to its rightful place on your wrist.
“Will I get one?” Loretta asks him.
Coriolanus laughs, but you don’t find it the least bit funny.
“Yes”, Coriolanus confirms, he reaches out to stroke the young girls face which you quickly intercept, knocking his hand away and picking Loretta up out of her chair,
“Loretta, go play”, you command.
The young girl flicks herself out of your hold over the Coriolanus, wrapping her smalll body around him. He leans down into her, giving her a squeeze before you managed to separate them and push Loretta in the right direction.
You close the door to her playroom before turning back to the table with the bracelet off your wrist. You avoid his eyes as you jam the bracelet back into its box and hastily tie the Ribbon back up.
“You are turning her into a spoiled girl” you criticise him.
”Why shouldn’t she be spoiled?” Coriolanus contends.
You place the box in front of him
”You don’t like it?”, he wonders.
You turn from him without answer, going back to check on the dinner in the oven.
“I can exchange it for something else”, he offers, following you too closely.
“Stop” you exasperated, “Just stop.”
”what?’’ Coriolanus complains. He was getting sick of having to constantly read your mind, “what’s wrong now?”
”Just stop everything. Stop coming around. I don’t want you around Loretta”.
”You think I would hurt Loretta?” He gasps offended.
He snatches the spoon out of your hand to gain your full attention.
“Have you lost your mind?”.
You were over protective of her, he understood that. But your claims were baseless and you made large leaps to paint Coriolanus as the bad guy.
“I want you to stop coming around. It doesn’t matter how many gifts you bring. I won’t like you. You’re dangerous, deranged. I don’t want you here”.
Coriolanus rolls his eyes. How many more times will he have to prove himself to you? He pushes off the bench, moving a safe distance away.
”No” you scold him, “Don’t ignore me. Listen to me”.
“I am listening to you. Are you listening to you? Don’t buy me gifts, don’t work to provide me and my cousin a better life, don’t love me”.
”This isn’t love, and we were doing just fine before you”.
The pot behind you boils over but you pay it no mind. Coriolanus picks up a worn biscuit tin, opening it to find it empty.
”Hm, looks like it”. He puts the tin back, leaning backwards on the counter, gazing down upon you.
“I’ve ordered Loretta some school shoes”, he states, “The child should at least have a pair that fit her”.
“Her shoes are fine”, you don’t back down.
“Don’t you want more for her? More for yourself”, he asks.
You shake your head no, “Not from you”.
“I would hate to go back to the Capitol and 6 years from now hear that Little Loretta Harrison was chosen as a tribute”.
”6 years is a long time. The games could be finished by then”.
He laughs at you. Always looking for the good that was never going to come.
“It won’t be”, he assumes you, pushing off the counter to come closer so he could hold you. You step back into the stove, the bubbling water jumps as you knock into its base and spills across your hand.
Coriolanus is quick to move you to the sink, throwing on the tap and moving your hand under the cool water.
”Are you alright?”, he asks. You don’t answer him and he doesn’t stick around for the answer, going back to turn off the stove to stop the boiling water.
He comes back standing too close behind you. He nestles up, wrapping an arm around your midsection and holding you hand under the water as if you would try and take it away.
He kisses your shoulder before resting his chin on it.
“Do you have any burn cream?”, he asks you.
“No”, you attempt to pull your hand back but he forces it to remain under the water, “it’s fine. It’s not that bad”.
It was only a small amount of water that splashed you. It left the back of your hand, red and tender but it would heal itself within a few days.
“Just leave it there. The water will help the pain”, he commands.
“I have to finish dinner”, you tell him, pushing back against him. Your good hand turns off the tap, but Coriolanus flicks it back on again.
“I’ll finish dinner. Just stay there”. He releases you to follow through his promise.
You turn the tap off again, causing him to turn back.
“Put your hand back under the water”, he commands, stirring the rice in the pot.
You cross to take the spoon out his hand, edging him out of the kitchen.
He looks to say something to you but Loretta pops her head out of the playroom.
“Is dinner ready?”, she asks.
“Almost”, you answer, “come set the table”.
Coriolanus helps the child in silence. Dinner is much the same. You ignore his existence, only talking to Loretta when necessary.
He helps you clear the table. While you give Loretta a bath, he does the dishes.
You help Loretta with homework later while Coriolanus does his own study. He is insistent that you sit at the table with him. Even though you claim the talking will interfere with his own work.
8 O’clock rolls around. Bed time for Loretta, and the only time he can get you to himself. He doesn’t leave although you try to stronghold him into it.
He continues to study while he waits. It made the time pass easily, when you do eventually come out, you had your usual worried expression on.
He jumps out of his chair, taking you into his arms and tries to kiss the look away.
“Don’t” you whisper, worried to wake Loretta to the sight of this, “get off”.
You manage to escape his hold but he catches up quickly from behind. He catches you in a strong hold, pressing your back against him, and lifting your chin up for ease of the kiss.
He moves with you as you stumble forward, letting you lead the way. You can’t see with his grip on your chin, only submit to the need to run.
“Wait”, you tell him when his lips were off yours but he returns moments later. His kisses leave you breathless, one after another in a repetitive fashion.
You hadn’t realised you were in the living room until you were pushed to the couch. Coriolanus lands on top, cementing his right hand against your face to still you as he litters kisses.
”Wait, wait, stop”, you wanted to scream and shout, but Loretta was asleep ten feet away.
”Do you want to continue our conversation from this afternoon?”, he asks you between a kiss.
His kisses fan out to your chest, just above the neckline of your dress.
He forces himself between your legs, bringing your left leg up to his hip. You didn’t want to leave it there so he wedges your leg between his body weight and the couch.
“I love you so much. You are so perfect. I just want the best for you and Loretta. Does that make me a bad guy?”, he complains.
“This makes you the bad guy”, you claim.
“Loving you?”.
You take the opportunity to cross your arms on your chest, shielding yourself from him.
He lifts his torso off you, creating space so you could cup your face in both hands.
“You have no idea how much I want you. How much I want to protect you from everything. If you would just let me, I could make you so happy. Both of you. I think I have proven myself enough for you to trust me”.
He lowers himself down once more on top of you, laying his forearm across your crossed arms, pinning them to your chest.
His other hand goes under your dress, running his fingers gently up your leg.
“Just let your walls down. You might find not everyone is out to get you”.
“Get off”, you demand. You wanted to cry and scream but your mind was on your sleeping cousin.
His finger itches up to the band of your underwear, it hooks under but he makes no further move.
“I want you to know I would never hurt you”, he promises. His breath becomes shallow against your ear.
”I just want you to be happy but it’s proven to be quite difficult”.
”Please get off me”, you quiver. Your eyes well with tears, causing your body to hiccup under him.
“No”, he groans, resting his head against your shoulder, “No, don’t do that”.
”we’re just talking”, he confirms, “what’s your favourite colour?”
You answer him.
”Hm favourite animal?”. He unhooks his finger from your underwear, shifting to the side off you but keeping his head on your shoulder.
You answer him again. Feeling better that he is too tired for sex.
You look at him beside you with his eyes closed from exhaustion.
”Food?”.
You answer his relentless questions with one word, truthful answers until sleep overcomes him and he asks no more.
You don’t move for ten minutes, afraid he would wake up from your movements. You start with your shoulder, gently rolling it until his head was transferred to the couch.
Only after that success do you move his arm from off you and slide free.
You debate waking him so he could leave but he was safest asleep. Instead you pull a spare blanket from the cupboard to put over him so he doesn’t wake from the cold. Next you set an old alarm clock to the time Commander Vongurt normally wakes, and set it on the living room table beside him.
His bag hung on the back of the kitchen chair. With Coriolanus taken care of, you move to your motive, taking out all the belongings found within until you found the spare key you knew he had.
You repackage his school books and pencil case. A letter falls out as you shuffle the books back. You knew he went to the post office to collect the presents, you didn’t think anyone would send him anything.
Despite your better judgement, you sit at the table and pull the letter from its envelope.
It spoke of how much he was missed back home. ‘Grandma’am’s health was improving but her body struggled in her old age. The writer claimed despite this, Grand’ma’am would be at his graduation. Hell would freeze before she would miss it, they promised.
You freeze at the end paragraph as it alludes to you. The letter spoke of Grandma’am excitement to meet Lorretta. How despite her not being Snow blood, Grandma’am would use her as practice for the real thing. It felt, the reader wrote, as if the new addition to the family felt as if the past was really behind them. The writer admits while initially unpleased to hear of the news of the district girl, after some thought, they confirm they are now in full support. They worry about his age and the commitment he was about to make, but the writer confirms Coriolanus always knew what he wanted, even from a young age.
This draws the conclusion this was his beloved cousin. Do you love Loretta this much, that you would overlook this insane behaviour?
Your name spelt out on paper made you want to throw up. You seem nice, she confirms, a good fit for him and this family. She was pleased to have you and Loretta keep him grounded while he studied under Dr Gaul. A reminder of the dark days, and to always choose to be good.
She reminds him how much she misses him, before she begins to talk about restoring their house, and her new job. You skip to the end, she doesn’t mention you again but wishes Coirolanus the best of luck as officer assessment nears, and warns him to write her back soon.
You place the pages back and shove the envelope back in his bag. Your mind ticks with ways to end this. Telling him straight doesn’t work, the Vongurts were no help, Loretta seemed to invite him. You have the urge to cry again as you ready the house for bed, but as you hold Loretta in your arms, you know you must stay strong and act smart.
Coriolanus sleeps through the night, receiving an awful wake up from the old alarm clock.
He shuts it off quickly with a groan. He shouldn’t have slept. Now he was late, and points would be deducted. You were only trying to be nice, he didn’t blame you, but he missed breakfast and would get an earful from his commanding officer when he arrived half way through class.
He rubs his tired eyes, getting up from the couch and moving to your bedroom. His plan was to kiss you and Loretta and to leave you sleeping but your room was empty.
Did your day normally start so early? He wondered. School didn’t start until 8:30. It would make no sense to leave now. What were you doing?
He looks around for a note that you may have left but found nothing of the sort. He leaves one for you, telling you he wont be back tonight as he had to catch up on work. In his search for a note pad, he came across a small picture. Loretta was maybe 2 in the photo, all dressed in white with pigtails. The picture had caught her half babbling while you sat in a wooden chair, and held her on your knee with a bright smile.
It was a professional photo and would have been quite expensive here in the district. Given the age, it must have been taken the first year you received custody. He wondered why you chose the expense. You were normally quite frugal. It was the begging, he supposed, of your new life. When he was back in the Capitol, he decided to make it an annual tradition. Watch his family grow in photographs.
He pockets the photo of his girls, and rushes out the door with his book back slung over his shoulder.
Coriolanus sits at the living room table. You sit beside him, cutting out and making your outfits. Loretta sat next to you, colouring in with her porcelain doll on her lap.
“Can I have a lolly from the lolly jar?” Loretta begs.
”No”, was your answer without looking up at her pouting face.
The usual whine came. Then the negotiations. She ate all her dinner, did all her chores, it wasn’t fair.
“Is it Friday?”, you ask her, now gazing up at the child in a motherly stare, “No, it’s not. We have our treats on Friday”.
He hated that there was a special day of the week. Every day should be a day where you have what you want.
”Let her have a treat”, he barters with you, “I’ll bring some more on Friday”.
Loretta jumps up, rushing to the kitchen to collect the jar.
You glare at him but quickly swallow your contempt.
“Can I ask you a question?”
”Yes”, he confirms, “anything”.
”Do you come from a rich family?”, you pry, “Officer make fine wages but I don’t know know one who can afford all these Capitol gifts”.
You pick up Loretta dolls, trying to tame the hair that had frayed.
He thinks about telling you the whole truth for a moment. But it was too complicated and irrelevant.
”Yes”, he answers.
“And you’re here?” You continue to push, “by choice?”
Coriolanus puts down his pencil, resting his arm on his propped up knee in a relaxed manner.
“Yes”, he answers again.
”Why? I know your family is dead. Mr Vongurt told me”, you admit, “There’s no one had home worth staying for?”
Coriolanus nods unshaken, “My parents died during the war like yours. I only have my cousin and my grandmother left. You have no idea how important they are to me. They are worth staying for- returning for. But I need to prove to myself that there’s nothing I can’t overcome. I am not some pampered rich kid that people seem to think I am. I can endure, and I can overcome”.
Loretta bounces back with the lollly, sucking on it loudly as she sits.
“I am sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I was just curious”. You pick back up your scissors and take up your craft again.
“There is nothing in my life that is a secret to you. If you have a question, feel free to ask, but don’t question my loyalty to my family”.
He reaches out to you, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand before you jump up, claiming you were going to make tea.
Coriolanus sighs watching you go. His focus drifts to Loretta. She always chewed on the right side of her mouth, he observed.
She also very rarely laid on her left side,
“You know”, Coriolanus whispers, “That lolly you are eating was designed to be chewed on the left. Tastes better”.
Coriolanus points to the left in case she didn’t know the difference yet. The Little girl tries it, but winces upon her first bite.
She moves it back over to her right and tries to play her reaction off.
“That’s alright. I like it more on this side”. She dismisses.
He gently runs his hand down the side of her face, getting up to let you know of his observation.
You are hostile as he approaches.
“No”, you state, fasten the latch on the lolly jar, “she can’t have another one”.
You turn from him with the jar, shoving it back in the pantry.
“Grandma’am may have left you have as many as you like but-“ you scold.
“Wait Grandma’am?”, he interrupts, shocked, “How did you know I call her that?”
You freeze realising you had done something very stupid.
”You said it just before”.
”No”, Coriolanus refutes, “I said grandmother”.
You push the jar back in and slam the door shut to throw him off guard.
“No, you said Grandma’am, how else would I know that name”.
Coriolanus second guesses himself. Maybe he did say the childish nickname. He was normally so careful to present a more polished version of himself.
“It’s a sweet”, he returns back to the original argument and you sigh out in relief, “It wont kill her’,
“She’s going to learn she can get whatever she wants, whenever she wants and it’s not true. There are rules here in district 2, and punishments for not following them. We are on a single wage, which has been cut thanks to you, I don’t want her to be disappointed on the come down”.
Coriolanus laughs softly, trapping you against him with an arm around your waist, and a hand against your face. He decided not to notify you of his find. He will deal with it himself rather than put another thing on your plate.
“I told you I will take care of you. You’ll work only the hours to keep the Vongurts satisfied and I will take care of the rest. I’ll keep the lolly jar topped up”, he declares with a kiss.
Coriolanus rushes through his day. Finishing course work and chores before all his colleagues.
When he has a purpose, Coriolanus was surprised what he could push his body to do. He skips lunch, handing his work and ID card to swipe for roll call for the next class to Mungo so they wouldn’t deduct points. The day would still put him behind but he would worry about it later.
He walks the 40 minutes to the school yard, watching as the children play during lunch. Only one male teacher was on duty to watch them as they swung on the monkey bars and chased each other with sticks.
He wasn’t sure how much attention the teacher was paying to anything as he managed to cross the yard without attention. He had to clear his throat for the man to look up.
”Officer!”, the teacher straightened up with a salute. “How can I be of service?”.
”I am looking for Loretta Harrison” Coriolanus confirms.
“Loretta”, the teacher repeats back with dismay, “Why she’s only a child. Why would you want her?”.
”That’s not your concern”, he dismisses.
“No, no! Of course not. But you must understand my questioning, sir”, the man stammered, “Did you want me to call her care giver? she can be here within 15 minutes”.
”No, I want you to collect Loretta”, Coriolanus demands.
“Yes, sir”, the man relents. He enlists the help of the other children before Loretta comes bouncing over to Coriolanus.
“What are you doing here?”, Loretta questions.
“Picking you up”, Coriolanus answers, he keeps a hand on her head, turning towards the gapping teacher.
“When her cousin comes this afternoon you can tell her Loretta was picked up by Coriolanus Snow”.
The teacher nods, with a “yes, sir”, he turns collecting the children and rounding them back inside despite the protests.
“Come on little duck”, Coriolanus tried to move the child with a guiding hand on her head but she refuses to move.
”I don’t think I am meant to go with you. I’ll be in trouble”.
”No you won’t”, he promises, crouching down to be eye level with her.
“Y/n says not to trust you. That you only pretend to be my friend”, Loretta confesses.
Coriolanus lets out a deep sigh. He reaches out to take her arms into his hands in a comforting manner.
“Your cousin is confused. She worries about you. But I can assure you, I am your friend, you can trust me, and you won’t be in trouble for being my friend too. Okay?”.
The little girl nods either from understanding and acceptance or from just plain confusion. Still it was enough for Coriolanus to rise.
“Come on, darling”, he calls to Loretta, taking her hand to lead her towards the path into town.
“Where are we going?” She rightly asks.
“We are going to the dentist, and if you’re good we’ll go to the sweet shop after”, Coriolanus answers.
He feels her weight in his hold as she jumps in joy at the news.
”What can I have?”.
”Anything you want”, he assures.
The girl was delighted to arrive at the dentist. Despite the long walk, she bounced in the waiting room. The sooner it was over, the sooner she was sitting at the sweets counter shop.
She spoke of what she was going to get, readily changing her mind as she went. Coriolanus sat patiently listening to her until his name was called.
Only then does he interrupt her for the Dentist.
“Will it hurt?”, she asks as Coriolanus lifts her into the chair.
”No, darling. He’s going to try and make your sore tooth go away”.
He could imagine how scared Lorreta would be in the sanctioned white room with the professional looking man all dressed in white and terribly unfriendly. All without you. He was sure she was more scared than she let on.
He gently rubs her arm in comfort, laying her back so the doctor could begin his work.
He holds her little hand as the doctor prodded in her mouth. Her fingers squeeze around his as the doctor hits the sore spots.
A terrible feeling overcomes him.The poor little darling. He was determined, now more than ever, to take over the role of protector and provider.
The doctor is loud in his disapproval, which didn’t help.
“She needs fillings”, the Doctor confirms, “Which wont be cheap”.
Money was no issue but he supposed it would be for most officers.
“Whatever she needs”, Coriolanus assures, “can you fix her sore tooth?”
”Yes”, was the Doctors short, curt reply, “open wider”.
Loreeta tries but her small jaw could only unhinge so much.
Coriolanus couldn’t wait to get back to the Capital where he could provide regular checkups for Loretta and you from friendly, doctors. But for now the man would have to do.
Half an hour passes before the doctor announced he was done and leaves the room, telling Coriolanus to square his debt with reception.
Loretta bites down on her tooth in loud chomps, seemingly amazed when it doesn’t bring her pain anymore.
“WOW”, she exclaimed, “can we go now?”
Lorretta leaped out of her seat, despite its height and takes Coriolanus’s hand.
“All done” he assures affectionately.
Seeing how close the girl has grown to Coriolanus, surely it would be hard to deny him now. Everybody in your life loved Coriolanus, you would be the odd one out, and follow suit. He was so close to having it all, his stomach flipped just thinking out it.
He pays the very large bill at reception while Lorretta boasts to the old lady behind the counter that they were going to the sweet shop next.
The walk wasn’t so far to the shop, Loretta held his hand the entire way. Only releasing him to bounce around the shop and look at her options.
He brought some sweet gums for you while he waited patiently for Lorretta to choose. He pounders fatherhood while watching her. He was good at it, he summarized. Better than his father was.
Still the hard years were in front of him. A climb to presidency was a steep hill. Like everything he does, he begins to plan out the best time to start a family of his own. He missed out on Lorrettas baby years. He wanted to be around for the next one which ruled out his years of university. Maybe when he gained a seat on the council, he could begin to try for his first. People looked kindly at a family man, it would help to gain support.
Lorreta showed him two small lollies, begging him to let her have both due to their size. He assured her she could, and have an ice cream.
Children were easy, he thought to himself. Buy them things, keep them out of harms way. You were difficult. You wanted more than that but he couldn’t figure out what.
“So what does your cousin like?”, Coriolanus asks innocently, taking a scoop with his small spoon.
Loretta shugs, too interested in her ice cream.
“Lots of things”, she unhelpfully replied.
“Like?” Coriolanus pushes.
Loreeta shugs again, “Hugs and kisses. She gives me lots”.
Coriolanus scoffs, was that true? You never seemed to like it when he did it.
“What gifts do you think she would like?”.
You didn’t like the bracelet despite your love for fashion. You were so closed off, Coirolanus wasn’t sure what you liked.
“Ah, she likes the gifts I give her”.
”Which are?”.
”My drawings”.
Seeing that the conversation was a bit too advanced for a child of Loreetas age, he switches topics to yes and no questions.
“Oh”, he exclaims, “yes, she’s shown me”, he lies.
He allows a pause before continuing as he could see she was getting irritated at the interruption to her ice cream.
“Has any other man been around like me?”.
” Commander Vongurt”, she answers,
“No”, he sighs, “I mean, bring presents, hang around the house, touch your cousin like I do?. Boyfriend, girlfriend stuff, do you know what that means?”.
Loreeta looks at him like he was an idiot. Her little eyes, gazing at him from behind her ice cream.
“I know. I am not a baby”, Loretta bites.
“No, no, of course not. So have they been around?”.
”No”, Loretta says, going back to her ice cream, “you’re the first”.
Coriolanus lets out a sigh of relief, pushing his ice cream away from him.
“I don’t think she likes you very much though”, Loretta admits.
The confession felt like a stab to his heart. He knew it, he didn’t need to hear it.
“Why not?”.
”She doesn’t like when you're around. She turns mean. Cries sometimes too”, Loretta says quietly.
Coriolanus sighs. He still has so much work to do.
“Remember what I said this afternoon? Your cousin is confused. Change can be scary, no matter how good it is”.
”I like you”, Lorretta confesses, taking a bite of her cone.
“I like you too” Coriolanus responds, “Maybe you can help your cousin like me too. Reminder her that you like me, and all the presents I bring”.
”Uh huh”, she agrees, taking another bite.
Coriolanus stops before he overwhelms her. It was enough that she was on his side.
He waits for the little girl to finish her ice cream before he begins the journey back to the house. The sun was still bright in the sky, although not a breeze in sight.
He wondered what you did with your free afternoon. He bet nothing for yourself. You would have caught up on housework or baked a treat for Lorettas lunch. He hoped the sweet gum would be a nice surprise for you.
Coriolanus hears his name being called behind him. Both him and Lorretta stop he watch the officer run up to them out of breath and sweaty.
“Are you officer Coriolanus Snow?”, he huffs, hunched over on his knees.
“Yes”, Coriolanus answers, pulling Lorretta closer to him.
The man seemed delighted at the news, pulling out his hand held radio and alerting base that he had found him.
“You are wanted at the Commanders home. Grunts are all looking for you. 30 points for the first one who found you” the man grins.
“Is something wrong? I have to take Lorretta home first”.
“No, no” the man straightens with his breath back, “Bring the girl. They are looking for her too”.
With this news Coriolanus takes off with Loretta in the way of the Vongurt estate.
He expects to have to carry her with all of the walking but she keeps up fine, happily sucking on a lollie beside him.
When he gets to the estate, he sees you on the step next to the Vongurts. You were sobbing uncontrollably. The hitch in your breath stops your flow of tear when you see them nearing. The teacher must have got his name wrong. You didn’t know where Loretta was, he guesses.
“How could you”, you yell at him, running down the steps to close the distance.
”How dare you” you scream, raising your fist and slamming into him repeatedly.
He lets go of Lorettas hand to shield himself as you belt him but makes no reproach.
“I am sorry”, he offers but you continue to hit and scream.
“How dare you take her. You’re crazy”.
He could hear Loretta try and come to his defense but you pay her no mind.
“Enough. Calm down” Vongurt reasoned. Your hits stop as Vongurt shelters you in his arms but you kick at Coriolanus in anger.
“She’s fine. She was never in any danger”, Vongurt defends.
“Y/n, I am sorry”, Coriolanus begs, “I thought you knew she was with me”.
”I did! That’s what I was worried about. You psycho”, You calm down enough for Vongurt to release you so you could go over to Loretta and take her into your arms.
Tear pool your eyes as you hug her close to you. Loretta lolli had dropped to the ground during the commonition. Something that normally would make her cry. Instead she stood frozen next to you, trying to give you the comfort she thought you needed.
“You had no right. None at all to take her” you blame,
Coriolanus stepped forward to try and explain him but before he could Mrs Vongurt had sought to ease the tension.
“I am sure there is a good reason. Why don’t we go in the house, have some dinner. I can watch Loretta while you and Coriolanus make up”, she offers.
Mrs Vongurt goes to reach out for Loretta but you yank her back out of reach.
You shake your head ‘no’, slowly walking backwards to the trail home.
“I quit”, you declare, “You stay away from us from now on. All of you. I don’t want to speak to any single one of you again”.
”Wait. Just wait”. Mr Vongurt pleas but you don’t. You walk as fast as you can away from the estate. Mrs Vongurt calls out your name, her voice cracking from her despair.
Vongurt calls it angrily. Expecting you to follow command like everyone else.
Coriolanus doesn’t waste words, running after you. Chasing when you begin to run yourself. With Loretta in tow, you just got past the thick of the trees where the rocky trail fell out of sight of the estate.
He pulls you back by your elbow, yanking Loretta too when you don’t release your hold on her. He lands you against a tree to keep you still.
“I am sorry”, he begs. He didn’t mean to upset you, “I am so sorry”.
”Get off of me”, you demand. Your hand releases Loretta to attack him once more.
“Stop, stop”, Loretta cries, pulling on your skirt against you.
He sh’s you, not wanting Loretta to see the theatrics. You do stop your yelling, seeing Loretta was on Coriolanus side.
His hold moves up to your face, holding under your ears to keep your gaze focused on him.
“I am sorry”, he repeats, “We went to the dentist and then the sweet shop. We were coming home right after, I swear. I didn’t mean to worry you”.
“Why were you at the dentist?”.
Coriolanus felt relieved that he got to explain himself.
“Loretta's tooth was sore. She needed fillings”.
”I would have done that”, you yell at him once more, “That’s not your place”.
His fingers tighten on you, he looks down at Loretta to make sure she was okay. The child was upset. She too felt in trouble.
“But you didn’t”, he states calmly, “You could have but you didn’t”.
“I didn’t know”, you refuted defensively.
“You not knowing doesn’t stop her pain”.
His tight hold hindered you from moving your head but your eyes landed on your cousin.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly.
She shugs in return, digging herself into your skirt. Your hand lifts to her head, petting her gently. Coriolanus lets you go, seeing you calm.
“You’ve made a terrible fool of yourself” Coriolanus scolds you, “You owe the Vongurts an apology”
You look at him with your usual cold look, pushing off the tree and moving forward with Lorreta.
“I don’t owe you or the Vongurts anything. I mean what I said, I never want to see you again”.
“You’re being awfully stupid and my patience with you is coming to an end”. He pulls you back once more, this time a firm grip on your arm told you he wasn’t playing around this time.
He turns back towards the manor, pulling you along with him.
“What are you doing, let go of me” you complain. When he doesn’t, and you fail to break free. You push Loretta away in the other direction.
“Lorretta, go to Bernadette’s house”.
”Lorretta!” Coriolanus shouts angrily. The girl hadn’t made a move so it was unwarranted.
He tries his best to use a softer tone with his next words.
“Darling, follow us. I’ll have Mrs Vongurt turn on some cartoons for you”.
Loreeta bawls unsure of what to do. Her loud sobbing echoed through the forest. Your fight against Coriolanus resumed again, but he let you go to pick the small girl up.
You tug at his hands around her, demanding that she is passed over to you. Loretta doesn’t seem keen on the idea, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Lorreta, baby, it’s alright”, you console.
He pushes your hands away as you reach for her, moving on back to the manner.
He grabs on to your wrist despite you already following and marches you back into the house.
“You’re back” Mrs Vongurt announced when Coriolanus barged through the door. Her eyes and nose were red from her own crying.
Coriolanus didn’t have time for it. He passed through like he owed the house to the entertainment room where he placed Loretta on the carpet and switched on the tv for her.
“Can you look after her?” He asked the Vongurts who had wordlessly followed him in.
“No”, you complain, trying to tug your wrist from him.
He doesn’t wait for their response, dragging you into Mr Vongurts study.
He spins when the door is shut, holding you tightly by your arms as he drags you further in.
“Stop crying. Stop crying”, he demands of you with a little shake, “ a million people in the world have a better reason to cry than you”.
His hold on you hurt, the more you tried to break free the tighter it got so you went limp instead, letting him move you around the room.
“Do you know how many points I have lost today?”, he asks you as he shuffles pointlessly around the room “How hard I have to work to get them back”.
”Let go of me. I don’t know” you whine at him.
“I work so hard for you. To see you. To take Loretta to the dentist. To pass officer training, and take you back to the Capitol”.
“Let go of me. No” you cry, shoving against him.
He shakes you softly once more to break your new found resistance,
“Listen to me, listen, you’re going to stop acting like this or I am going to separate you and Loretta. She can stay here with the Vongurts and you can see her on the weekends”.
You sob loudly in his face, begging him not to do any such thing.
“Stop crying. I won’t if you don’t make me”.
”I won’t”, you pledge to him, “I promise”.
”Good. Take a breath”, he commands.
You follow his command. Trying to control the swirling emotions inside of you.
His hands move to the small of your back, bringing you closer to his body.
“I am sorry about today. I should have cleared it with you first. It won’t happen again”, he promises, “but you cannot speak to me however you like. The Vongurts even. Did you see you made Mrs Vongurt cry?”
”I thought you hurt Lorretta. They wouldn’t help me look for you. They wouldn’t even let me look for you. They said it was good you were bonding with her. I should be glad. Do you know what it’s like to think your love one is in danger and you can’t do a single thing”.
He thought back to the arena. The anxiety it brought to be powerless.
“I only have her”, you admit softly.
“That’s not true. You have me now, and I would never do anything to hurt either of you. I love you. Both of you in different ways”.
He leans down his head, remembering what Loretta said about hugs and kisses, and firmly plants his lips against yours.
You don’t move as he does. He moves his lips to your chin, and trails his way from your jaw down to your neck.
“My little doll” he says affectionately between kisses, “I gave you a fright didn’t I?”
”Don’t” you say weakly.
He pulls his head back up, looking at you in the darkening room.
“Still, you have to apologise to the Vongurts. They didn’t deserve that today”.
You nod your head, unable to form words.
He kisses you again, gently this time.
“I hate when we fight. Especially in front of Loretta”.
You nod again, clutching the collar of his uniform in your hands.
“Cat got your tongue?” He teases you.
”What do you want me to say?”.
”well I apologised for my part in our fight, maybe you could be sorry for yours”.
”I am sorry”, you grit, “I thought Loretta was hurt”.
”Aren’t you sorry for doubting me?”
”I am sorry for doubting you”, you return.
when he goes to kiss you again, you pull your head back out of reach. Your body bending back under his hold.
“I would like to go home”, you tell him.
This time Coriolanus nods. You could tell he was upset with the rejection but he didn’t push it.
“You’ll apologise to the Vongurts first”, he states, losing his hold for one on your hand.
He leads you back to the entertainment room where Loretta sat in front of the television, propped up by pillows with a plate full of biscuits.
The Vongurts sat behind her in the lounge chair, hand in hand watching cartoons like they used to do when their son was alive and little.
Coriolanus clears his throat to gain their attention, not going further then the doorway.
They both rise to come over, leaving the child content on the floor.
He squeezes your hand to let you know to speak.
“Mr and Mrs Vongurt”, you begin, “I am sorry about this afternoon”.
Your voice was hard and unconvincing but they accepted it anyway.
Mrs Vongurt pulls you into her arms, and Mr Vongurt taps your arm in forgiveness.
”I am so glad you two made up”, Mrs Vongurt says, “such a silly thing to fight about”.
You gently push her off. Where once she was a parental figure, now she was an enemy.
“Thank you for keeping me company this afternoon, and thank you for the care you have shown Loretta. I am sorry for the way I spoke to you, and for taking up so much of your time. Loretta and I will leave now”.
”Nonsense, you can stay here”, Mrs Vongurt offered, “plenty of room. Coriolanus could stay too”.
Before you could reject, Coriolanus speaks up for you.
”that’s very kind of you, ma’am but Loretta has school tomorrow and I have to wake early to earn the points lost today”.
”Son, don’t worry about points. Consider your spot in officer assessment secured”, Mr Vongurt declared.
“Thank you, sir. But I would prefer to pass unaided”, Coriolanus declares.
He reaches his hand out to shake Mira Vongurts in goodbye. It’s met with a sad and weak handshake before he leans forward to kiss Mrs Vongurt.
“Let me give you a ride home, and you a ride to the compound” the commander offers, “Will you accept that help?”.
”Yes, sir” he confirms, “Gladly”.
Loretta was unhappy to leave the TV but a trip in the car earnt her curiosity enough to stop her whining.
Loretta was having a strange day. A lot of firsts and unexpected surprises.When Mrs Vongurt bent down to kiss her little cheek, it still didn’t make the list of top 5.
You held her close in the car. Both you and Loretta were in the back while Coriolanus rode up front. You didn’t speak the whole journey but Coriolanus could feel your eyes drill a hole in him.
When you finally arrived home, Coriolanus jumped out too in order to open the car door for you, waiting patiently for you to unbuckle Loretta and jump out with her.
He grabs your arm as you pass by him, halting you for a kiss.
“You probably won’t see me tomorrow” he advises. The sweet gum from his pocket were slipped into your hand as he continued to speak, “I love you, and I’ll see you soon”.
He releases you to bend down to Loretta, scoping her into his arms for a hug.
“Goodbye darling. I love you too. You be good for your cousin”.
He places a kiss on top of her head which causes you to shiver.
You take her into your arms as soon as possible, watching him as he gets back into the car.
“Bye”, Loretta screams with a large wave.
The cars horn is beeped and Coriolanus waves back out the window.
“Loretta”, you tell her as the car drives away, “You need to tell me exactly what happened today”.
Coriolanus worked hard to earn the points needed for the week.
It felt as if he only slept a few hours a night. Working with Mungo helped.
He could recount the learning with him as they did manual labour which helped Coriolanus retain it. He explained the best he could how to structure an essay, Mungo biggest short coming.
He was a hard worker which meant Coriolanus always had a friend to toil away with.
He longed to see you and Loretta but with officer training so close he couldn’t afford to lose focus. He took more night patrols for the extra points which meant his study period had to be used for a nap or else he wasn’t going to make it. The idea was to cram the points needed into 4 days so he could spend every extra second with you. The long days were worth it when he could spend the afternoon playing with Loretta and the evenings in the lounge room with you while you cut out your pictures and he studied beside you.
This plan also gave you a schedule so you knew when to expect him and when you could have a night of peace.
Coriolanus was on day 3 of 4 before he could see you again. He worked alongside Mungo and others he was yet to name, in their free period building the new shed for the extra points. He passes up a beam to Mungo in the stands when he feels the presence of uniforms behind him.
They were older established officers sent by the Commander.
”Commander Vongurt wishes to see you in his office”, one of them states.
Coriolanus confirms he will make his way there. He angrily throws his glove when their back is turned. He wont be getting points for his effort today if he leaves. The points would have earnt him half a day tomorrow which means he would have been at yours by lunch time.
“My friend?” Mungo calls from his height.
“Don’t let them finish Mungo. Go slow. I’ll give you my desert tonight if there is work for me tomorrow”.
Mungo salutes back, assuring him their section will remain unfinished.
Whatever Vongurt wanted, better be important.
He tries to shake his irritation by the time he reaches the commander door. He had been good to Coriolanus. A lost shift was nothing to cause riff over.
“Coriolanus” the commander calls as he enters.
He had paper in his hands and a bewildered look upon his face.
“What happened?” Coriolanus worriedly asked. He had never seen the Commander in such a state before.
“I am going to kill her. How could she do this to us?”
”Who?”.
The Commander thrusts the paper into his hand. Transfer documents stamped rejected in a red stamp.
“Y/n, that’s who. The transport officer came by this morning, asking me if I knew anything about this. How embarrassing! She would have got it too if he didn’t recognise the face”.
An offical photo of you is placed in the top left hand side box above your name and age.
“Which district?” He asks.
“All of them”, the commander answered. He shivers to think of you and Loretta in district 12. You didn’t know how good you had it in 2.
“She’s been blacklisted. I’ve taken care of it. But you need to go speak to her. I’ll ring her ungrateful little neck”.
Coriolanus grabs Vongurts keys off the table. You would be home now. Your days finished at 3 so you could go pick Loretta up from school. Coriolanus had organised it with the Vongurts himself.
He storms out of the office and into the car, driving too fast along the road.
His fury built the closer he got. Were you planning on telling him goodbye? Would you really be so reckless with Loretta's future?
You were shy, he knew that. Sensitive and found it hard to trust and release control. But were you stupid?
The Vongurts protected you. Treated you better than any district should be. Did you think life was this easy everywhere?
He parked outside your house. You had left the main door open to allow the cool breeze to cool the room while you cooked which was good because Coriolanus forgot to grab his bag with the key.
He races up the steps, his heavy boot thudding against the old wood.
Loretta was nowhere in sight. The playroom door was open so he assumed she was in there. The thought willed him to be calm. This fight was between you and him.
You jump when you first see him standing in your doorway.
“What are you doing here?”, you gasp.
He doesn’t answer, stalking closer to you with the transfer hidden in his hand.
He gets too close, causing you to shrink back into the counter.
“Is something wrong?” You ask him wearily.
”Is there?” He asks back.
“You’re scaring me”, you admit.
“You applied for a transfer?”. The paper is thrust into your hands. You stare at it in bewilderment before casting your vision back to his angry gaze.
”Oh that”, you acknowledged. You squeezed yourself past him, out of your tight corner and threw the paper into the bin.
”Yes that”, he spits.
”I did that months ago. Long before you. I forgot I did it. I was only seeing if I could”.
Coriolanus grabs your arm forcing you to turn to face him.
”Don’t lie to me”.
”I am not” you insist but your voice is soft and unconvincing.
”What was your plan if you got one of the poor districts”, he demands. He imagines 12 and the poverty he saw there.
“You were going to throw away your future, Loretta’s future. Do you know how lucky you are here in 2?”. His grip tightens on your arm as he speaks to the point of bruising.
Coriolanus feels his heartbeat in his ears as he pictures little Loretta in the dirt and grime in district 12. They didn’t bother to school children in district 12. They didn’t have the resources like they did it 2. The houses were poorly made accidents waiting to happen. You wanted to give up the security of district 2, of the Vongurts, because you were mad at him?
”I told you I just wanted to see if I could. I was planning on asking for a raise to help with school costs. I thought if I was desirable to other districts that would raise my value to the Vongurts”.
”That’s a lie”, he demands, “The Vongurts would have given you anything you asked for”.
”No, they would have given YOU anything you asked for, their lost son. Let go of me”, you fail to break free, “Let go of me, You’re hurting me”.
He hears Loretta run to the sound of shouting, her feet scuffing the floor in her haste,
“Stop, let go of her”, the little girl demands.
Coriolanus immediately releases you. Taking a step back to avoid his urge to reach back out.
“Everything is fine, Loretta”, Coriolanus promises in the nicest voice he could muster in that moment.
“Baby, go to your playroom. Everything’s fine”, you promise.
The little girl cries, saying that she wont.
”Loretta, go!”, you yell at her.
Loretta takes off at your shouting, running back into her room and slamming the door.
“Vongurt is ready to kill you”.
”I’ll wait until next week to ask for the raise then”. You try to busy yourself with work once more, trying to play off the situation.
You fiddle with a spice jar before it’s taken from your hands and smashed against the wall.
This earns your attention to the peacekeeper in your kitchen.
“You have no idea how stupid that was. You think you would survive in any other district? You?”, he spits.
You curl into yourself, under his fury. He was never supposed to know.
“No”, you say to appease him.
He grabs you by your arms again, pulling you toward him.
”I am not playing a game with you”, he warns, “There is no where I wouldn’t find you”.
You were not used to anger. You lived a peaceful life with Loretta and the Vongurts has only ever treated you like one of their own. This feeling was an unconfirmable one. It had been years since you were last scolded.
“I am sorry”, you say followed by a lie, “I wasn’t-
“Don’t say it again”, he seethes, “I didn’t believe you the first time”.
If you were braver, you would have confronted him. How dare he question you after the stunt he pulled yesterday. After everything he has done, how dare he speak to you like you were crazy for trying to get you and Loretta to safety. But you weren’t, so you tried to worm your way into his good books to avoid his wrath.
“Oh” you coon, throwing your arms around his stiff shoulders, "my dear, I gave you a terrible fright, didn’t I?”
”no”, you giggle, pulling yourself closer to him, “What was is? My doll! My poor, sweet doll”.
His hands go to your waist, stilling there while his mind races. Was this a joke? A ploy to get his attention?
You plant a kiss on his cheek before removing yourself from his grasp and focusing back on dinner.
“Now we have both done things we should have let the other know about. We’re even. Now are you staying for dinner? You didn’t bring your book bag”.
Coriolanus wants to believe you despite his better judgement. You were blacklisted now. There was no harm in trying if nothing came from it. So he decides to believe you.
“No:, he said gently. His mind begged him to continue pushing but he refused. “I have to get back. Let me just see Loretta”.
He moves before you give permission, opening the door of the playroom to see Loretta in the far corner, crying into her porcelain doll.
His heart lurches at the sight. His poor baby. He hates that he played a part in her misery. He should have minded his temper until he could have an audience alone with you.
“Sweetheart”, he called to her. You both had a tendency to cry too much.
When she doesn't move, he picks her up from the floor, holding her tightly in his arms.
She wails into his chest, her doll tight in her arms in comfort.
“Sweetheart, please, everything is okay”, he rocks back and forth on his heels , one arm securely around her while the other pats her head.
He could see you look in, keeping a close watch on him and your baby.
From the corner of his eye he sees a stack on your magazines, half cut from your craft.
He takes the first one off the top, flipping it through to the catalogue pages where the newest items were kept.
He tried to appease her the only way he knew how.
”Here baby, pick something”, he offers.
Loretta pushes the page away, “That’s all adult stuff”.
She was right. Lotions and potions to make you look and feel younger.
“I’ll bring the toy catalogue next time I come. Just stop crying. It was just a misunderstanding”, he leans down into her ear, “I’ll let you pick as many toys as you want”.
Her head lolls to the side and she nods against his uniform.
He throws the magazine back, cupping the small child’s head against him.
The gentle clanking of broken clay, soiled his content mood. He races out of the room with Loretta still in his arms, rushing back outside to see you cleaning up the broken spice jar.
“I’ll clean that”, he promises, setting Loretta in her chair at the table.
He joins you on your knees in the kitchen, taking the dust pan and brush from your hands.
”I am sorry”, he apologies, sweeping up the remaining clay.
He finishes collecting the fragments but remains kneeling next to you.
“I should have told you. I am sorry”, you pander.
He smiles at you, cupping the side of your face in his hand, “any more surprises I should be aware of”.
”No” you answer softly, rising, “That should be the last of them”.
Coriolanus joins you on your feet where you take the dust pan and brush out of his hands, throwing the waste in the bin trying to cover the transfer paper from his sight.
”Today is day 3 right? Day 4 tomorrow and then you’ll be here again?”.
Coriolanus nods, “I’ll buy you another spice jar”, he offers.
You shake your head, “No need”.
You pay attention to your cooking. It was charred now from your lack of care, Loretta wouldn’t eat it.
What was supposed to be your peaceful evening has now left you feeling jarred and on edge. You would remain that way for too long after he had gone.
Loretta jumps from the chair coming over to the stove to announce her news.
“Coriolanus is going to bring me the toy catalogue and I get to pick as many toys as I want, and how many. He said”.
“Wow, that’s very generous”, you swallow.
You feel him shuffle forward before he speaks, “You too”.
”I don’t think I need anymore toys”, you tease.
‘No- I”, he stumbled.
You turn to him, holding his head between your heads to stop him from coming any closer.
“Are you staying for dinner or no? It’s ready now if you have time”.
”I don’t”, he sighs. You knew he didn’t. A gentle reminder for him to leave.
“I’ll be back Friday, okay? Try not to run off before then”, he quipped.
‘You won’t be back at all if you don’t run off now” you advised, moving your hands off him.
He catches your wrists as you do using them to pull you up for a kiss.
“Goodbye”, he bids before releasing you.
You watch him carefully as he pecks Loretta’s head, telling her to be good.
As soon as he is over the threshold, you gently close the door behind him and turn the lock.
cw: smut-with-little-to-no-plot, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, who knows where billy’s fingers (or handkerchief) have been??!?
murderous december winds roaring outside of the tent, you lie on the single bed roll, cuddling to the layers of blankets whilst waiting rather impatiently for your lover to return from stoking the fire. your frame is clad in your thick winter coat in addition to your cotton nightgown and woolen stockings, but the cold has a way of seeping into your bones uninvitedly.
billy is intent on heading to texas in search of an outlaw with a larger bounty on his head than his own. figures the reward will be plenty to buy the two of you a nice piece of land where no one knows of him, settle down. how could you turn down going alongside your beau when the promise is so very romantic?
after what seems like forever, billy returns from the bleak wilderness, dusting snow off of his stetson before trying the tent flap shut and joining you.
“y’alright honey? warming up?” he asks, leaning over to tenderly pat your knee beneath the blankets before sitting up to remove his gun belt and suspenders.
you sigh heavily, propping yourself up. “‘s miserable out here.” you pout.
he merely chuckles, pulling back the covers and joining you on the bedroll now that he’s finished undressing.
“poor baby…” billy muses, leaning propped up on his elbow in order to peer down at you. “‘m real sweet on ya, you know that?” he adds after a moments silence
you bear your teeth in a smile despite the unideal circumstance, blinking up at him adoringly. when he ceases to receive a response, he pinches your hip, earning a giggle.
“i do know that.” you answer tauntingly, though unable to refrain from adding a sweet “love you…” for good measure.
“reckon i know somethin’ that’ll warm you up.” he announces, punctuating with his calloused hand sliding up under your nightgown.
he wastes no time in finding his way into your drawers, baby blues fixed upon you as he does so. your breath is visible in the air as you sigh in reaction.
“cold,” you complain at the feel of his skin, though it falls on deaf ears. his knee settles between the both of yours in order to keep you nice ‘n open for him, his cold thumb beginning to massage slow circles against your clit.
brows knitting into a frown, you let out a pleased gasp, hand sliding up his shoulder til you are able to play with the baby hairs at the back of his neck.
though he’d not been intent on peeling your layers off for the sake of keeping you warm, he grows impatient, tugging your bloomers down. when they reach your ankles, you happily kick them off.
he kisses you hungrily, like a man utterly starved. as his finger — then two — dip into your weeping cunt, you reach to fumble one-handedly with the button on his trousers.
“you gettin’ impatient on me, sugar?” he drawls, grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung the moon ‘nd stars.
“wanna feel you.” you answer, bringing up your stocking clad calf to press somewhat against the back of your thigh.
at that, billy settles for one more kiss before reluctantly removing himself from atop of you. he unfastens his pants and slips them down, not one to say no to his girl.
“god damn it.” he sighs breathily, lowering himself for the sake of pressing a wet kiss to your core. “prettiest pussy ‘ve ever seen.”
you fawn almost girlishly at that, eagerly allowing him to get up and settle between your thighs. his pink tip prods at your folds, teasing you a minute, before he sinks in fully.
“oh- oh, billy,” you cry out, pressing your cheek to the pillow.
“shhh, s’alright. taking me so well, look at that…” he tenderly responds, setting a deep, slow pace.
without any rhythmic decline, he slips his hand beneath the neckline of your nightgown, the cold, calloused flesh against your already hardened nipple earning a whine. you press your ankle against his ass, greedily unable to fathom the loss of such animalistic pleasure.
“fuck,” he grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “y’were made for my cock, huh? nice n’ snug…” he rambles, ever so chatty whilst making love fucking.
“gonna fill you up, yeah? nice and warm.” billy promises, hips stuttering as he fights the urge to finish before you — that’d be ungentlemanly, after all.
with a few circles from his roughened digit against your clit and the unwavering pace at which his cock is plowing into you, your head turns fuzzy, body all of the sudden feeling like water.
as promised, billy shoots his load deep into you, finally settling his full body weight atop of your now limp frame.
you remain like that for a moment, in the blissful aftermath. then billy presses a kiss to your hairline, fixing the neck of your nightgown.
“love you so much.” he whispers, slowly pulling out in order to wipe you off with the handkerchief that’d been nestled into his jean pocket.
“love you. more ” you contentedly respond, sleepily blinking up at him.
once the two of you are lied down and comfortably settled, the night doesn’t seem too horribly cold. you can feel billy’s spend, warm inside of you, the cold only kissing at your cheeks and nose as you drift off to sleep. perhaps bounty hunting with your man isn’t so terrible after all… not when his affections are so mind numbing and sweet.
Freshly bathed and slathered in lotion emitting a delicious aroma, you stand bare before the bathroom mirror, sparingly applying a cream to your face that could without doubt cover the entirety of your rent back home.
Though you are technically of Capitol descent, given your fathers birth, district 8 was home to you for the first chunk of your life. Only when he reached 20 years of service was he able to wed your mother and claim you (albeit only having done the latter). Strategic man he is, he was able to weasel his way into the Capitol once more, and inevitably become one of the many to offer their daughters to young President Snow.
Why Coriolanus had chosen you amongst the glistening bounty, you hadn’t a clue. Though not terrible to look at, you find yourself quite plain. Not to mention you are of unremarkable birth. Nonetheless, you were betrothed the year before last and wed over the summer. First lady is a suffocating title, one adorned by a woman reminiscent of a pretty, exotic bird, promptly coaxed and placed into a gilded cage.
At some point you’d padded to the walk in closet, mindlessly getting dressed in the silken sleep set selected for you by a maid. The nightgown is long and ivory, brushing your ankles, with a lace trimmed robe to match.
Abruptly, you feel large hands against press to your midsection, startling you out of your mental detachment.
“Did you miss me?” Coriolanus asks in a hushed sort of tone, ring clad fingers dipping lower, lower…
You sigh lightly, bare lashes kissing your cheeks as you shut your eyes to ground yourself. His halfway decent moods prompt you to feel guilt for the loathing you cannot help but harbor for your husband, but his unpredictable temper makes him foul company.
“I always miss you when you’re gone.” You settle for. You feel him smile against your crown.
“Come,” He orders, taking you by the hand and guiding out of the walk in and towards your large shared bed.
Much to your dread, Coriolanus has grown impatient for an heir. A blond, blue eyed son to mold in his image as he believes he has done you. Perfect, pure as snow. Inhuman. He forces trying for a baby upon you a couple of times a week, give or take according to his stuffed schedule.
The backs of your knees hit the mattress, and the feel of the cool, fluffy bedding pressing your nightgown against bare skin tickles. He is shrugging off his coat, then unfastening his belt, then tossing the imported leather to the carpet and covering your frame with his own.
. . .
He thrusts into you without mercy, broad shoulders level with your face as you are fucked like a doll. One could say that is what all are turned into after too much time spent at the presidential manor — a statue. Inanimate objects, serving at the pleasure of the president.
Sometimes he attempts to talk dirty to you. You loathe it. Though, in certain light — now, for example, as the days hair gel is worn, allowing a near white curl to fall against his forehead.. his biceps straining from holding up his weight, looking delectably bite-able — it is undeniable that your husband is a handsome man.
And though when he speaks it is often reminiscent of watching paint dry in your mind, he is somewhat fond of you. One less familiar with his ways than you wouldn’t notice, but it is thinly woven into your partnership. How he will see you out of conversations clearly boring you. The fresh white roses he has set for you in the breakfast nook each morning.
With a throaty grunt, Coriolanus fills you up, only now collapsing his full body weight upon you to prevent any of his spend leaking out. After a moment, he lifts his head, unsettlingly blue eyes boring into yours. He brushes a fallen strand of hair from your face.
“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, gaze flicking downwards. A low chuckle escapes his plush lips.
“You ought not to bother contributing to society. Seems a waste, as lovely as you look like this.” Coriolanus condescendingly proclaims. With that, he pulls out and promptly slaps your thigh, causing you to gasp.
You hope he drops dead. Then, he kisses you for the very first time this evening, hungrily. He tastes like posca, and it makes your head spin senselessly.
fem reader x billy the kid
large text version here!
HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYBODY 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
Ladling something into a mug, Billy threw a grin at you over his shoulder. "My Ma used to make this every Christmas." He turned around, cradling it in his big hands. "No matter how poor we were, she scrounged up enough to get chocolate and a little liquor."
You were sitting at the table with your knees folded, feet under you. A little sleepy from the food, you were as happy as you could remember. Earlier tonight, when it was still light out, Billy picked you up from your family's home and brought you out to his little cabin. He put you in front of him on his horse, practically nestled between the folds of his coat. The horse moved slow and you leaned against Billy so you could enjoy the snowy landscape.
Once at his place, Billy swooped you off the horse and into his arms, carrying you like a bride over the threshold. When you laughed and told him he was a sweetheart, he blushed. "You're rubbin' off on me."
You sat by him at dinner, letting him hold your hand on the table while you ate. The fire roared in the background, the coziness of it all warming your heart. Now you took a sip of his hot chocolate, humming as the taste hit your tongue. "Billy, this is so good."
"Yeah?" He sat next to you with a mug of his own, stretching his free arm around you.
"It's so good, Billy." Looking up at him, your smile somehow grew. "Thank you."
His blue eyes went soft. "'F course, baby." Holding out his arm, he spread his knees a little wider. "C'mere." You stood up, and he pulled you down gently to sit on his leg. Billy kissed your forehead, settling his hand over your middle.
"Hi," you said softly, still smiling. The mug in your hands was warming your hands, and the look on his face warmed your heart.
"Hi, baby." Billy nudged your nose with his and you giggled, touching your lips to his. His hand tensed on your waist, and you set your mug on the table so you could tangle your hands in his hair.
You sighed when he moved his mouth down to your neck. Wrapping your arms around him, you giggled again when he brushed your hair aside to better access your skin. "Billy?"
"Mm?" He was busy at your collarbone now, mug aside.
"I've gotta be home by midnight, 'member?"
Billy groaned, his arms tightening around you. "I know." He pressed one more kiss to your neck. "Guess we gotta get goin' then."
"Yeah." You were disappointed to say it.
When your lips started to turn down, he moved his hand to your cheek, rubbing gently. "It's alright. We'll see each other the day after." With a little smile, he said, "And someday, we're gonna spend every Christmas day with each other."
You nodded, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck. He rubbed your back gently, letting you relax against him. Your hand drifted up to one of his suspenders, just holding. "Just a few more minutes."
"Yeah." Billy swayed you back and forth just a little, and your eyes grew heavier. Letting them fall shut, you let yourself breathe him in, relax because he was holding you and he was safe.
The time passed too quick. It felt like you'd only blinked before he was carefully lifting you up, smoothing your hair and saying he'd go find your coat. You stretched, making a promise to yourself to enjoy every second of riding home with him, with his front pressed against your back. Billy was cozier than he gave himself credit for. When you went down to the river with him in the spring and summer, his tummy made a nice pillow.
"Baby?" You looked up, noticing his furrowed brow. He was standing by the window, one of the curtains pulled to the side. Hurrying over, you peered through, eyes widening. It was impossible to even see outside, it was snowing so hard. The world was a blur of grey and white.
Gasping, you leaned into Billy. "What do we do?"
His tone was grim. "Can't ride out in the storm. We could get lost or worse." Letting go of the curtains, he turned to hold you by the arms. "Sweetie, I think you're gonna have to stay the night. Maybe even the day."
You bit the side of your cheek, worry gnawing at your chest. "My family-"
"They don't want you ridin' out in the cold either." He tilted your face up with his palm on your cheek. "It's alright. We're gonna be okay here."
Swallowing, you nodded, and he kissed your hair. "Alright. We're gonna be alright." Tucking some of your hair behind your ear, he said, "C'mere, I'll get you somethin' to sleep in."
Billy took your hand and led you into the next room. You sat on the bed while he rummaged through his drawers, pulling out a shirt. "This okay? It's clean."
"Thank you." You took it, feeling a little awkward. In almost a year of being his girl, you'd never spent the night at his house. There had just never been a reason to. On a warm day, you might find yourself curled up in his lap under a tree, and you were no stranger to late nights with him. This felt different.
He left while you changed for more hot chocolate, returning with two fresh mugs. "I'll get us another blanket, 'kay? 'S gonna be cold tonight."
"Okay." You took one mug from him, taking an eager sip. The initial anxiety had worn off, something of a thrill replacing it. A whole night alone with Billy- could you have thought of a better Christmas gift? He'd given you something days ago- a pretty new necklace shaped like a heart. This was something unexpected, a little gift from the universe that encouraged you to keep loving each other.
You felt like the inside of a fresh-baked pie watching him come in with another blanket. He fussed over you, asking if you wanted more hot chocolate and if you were warm enough. He tucked the blanket around you before starting to undress. You leaned back and watched him shoulder off his suspenders. Billy caught you when he started unbuttoning his shirt. "You okay?"
"You're so handsome," you said dreamily, taking another sip of your drink.
Grinning, he hastily folded his clothes, making for you as soon as he finished. You put your empty mug on the bedside and squealed when he seized you around the waist, pressing a flurry of kisses to your face. "There's my girl." You snuggled into his chest once he got under the covers, smiling into his chest.
He paused before putting his arms back around you. "'S this okay? I can move to the floor 'f you want-"
"No." You put your face in his pecs, giving him a kiss there. "I want you here."
He hugged you tight, nuzzling his nose into your cheek. His stubble was itchy on your skin, and it made you giggle. Billy nestled you into his arms, making sure the blanket was nice and tight around you. "Need anythin'? More hot chocolate?"
"More hot chocolate," you agreed, and he kissed the top of your head, reaching for his mug.
"Here you are." He lifted the mug to your lips so you could drink.
You hummed happily. "I feel like a princess."
"Good." Billy fed you another sip of chocolate. He sat up a little so he could prop you against his chest. "You cozy enough?"
"Yeah." You had another sip of hot chocolate before he set the mug aside and eased down onto the bed with you.
After he blew out the candle, Billy laid perfectly still while you tried to get comfortable. You laid your head on the pillow, keeping your space. He rubbed your side. "You can lay on me, sweetheart. It's okay."
You frowned. "Even all night?"
"'S why I'm here, sweetie." He nudged your waist and you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder.
"This okay?"
Billy pulled your leg over his middle, rubbing your side. "Just like this. You're cozy."
You kissed his shoulder, then his chest. Billy's hand traveled down to your waist, and when you tilted your head up, he leaned down to kiss you so softly that you felt like you were floating. Shifting on him, you used your hand on his chest to hold yourself up as he kissed you like it was his last day on earth.
Billy moved you so you were laying on your back, bracing himself over you. You pulled him down for another kiss, sighing when he slid his hand up your leg. He rubbed your thigh gently, breathing, "You okay?"
You nodded, reaching up to kiss him again. "Want you. Billy-"
"I know," he soothed, kissing your nose, then your cheek.
You closed your eyes as he smoothed your hair, that fluttery feeling in your chest blooming.
~.~
Morning eased into the room slow and easy, sunlight peeking through the curtains and warming your bare back. Billy's big hand was splayed out over you, rubbing subtly. You shivered a little, and he smoothed the blanket over your back. "Hi, sweetie."
"Morning." You lifted your head, smiling up at him.
He was grinning. The sight of him fresh from sleep, hair messy, an imprint of the pillowcase on his cheek, was enough to make your heart sing. "Look at you. So pretty." You leaned into his hand when he smoothed it over your cheek.
"Merry Christmas, Billy," you whispered, and his eyes sparkled.
"Feliz Navidad," he breathed, pressing a feather-light kiss to your head, stubble scratching you. "Mi amor."
"Mi vida," you muttered back, kissing him over his heart.
He lit up. "You've been practicin'."
"Yeah," you giggled, and he pulled you fully on top of him, smothering you in kisses. "I've got a good teacher."
"That's the best thing you coulda given me," he said, kissing your cheek.
"Te amo," you said, and he rolled you over, kissing you deep and slow.
"Te amo," he repeated, looking deep into your eyes.
You propped yourself up on his chest, smiling softly. "I'm grateful we got snowed in."
"You are?" He tucked some of your hair behind your ear.
"I'm glad we got snowed in so I could wake up with you," you said, kissing his chest.
Billy cradled you close, turning onto his side so he could hold you better. You hooked one of your legs over him, cuddling into his side. "You're an angel. My angel."
Your bare skin against his was like heaven, and he was warm like a fire. Billy kissed the top of your head, nudging you closer. "I'll get up and make breakfast."
"In a little bit." You were practically sprawled out over him.
Billy pulled the blanket back and you shyly curled into yourself. He chuckled, letting you hide in his chest. "You're so pretty."
"Can we take a bath after breakfast?" you asked sweetly, kissing over his collarbone. Billy frowned, but you stuck your lower lip out and pressed your chest against his. "Please?"
He sighed. "The things you get me to do, baby."
"It's just a bath," you giggled, rubbing his chest. "It'll be nice and warm. And we can cuddle."
"Well, when you put it like that…" Billy smoothed your hair. "Okay, sweetie. I'll warm us some water."
"In a minute." You wrapped your arms around his waist. "Still tired."
"Alright, sleepy girl." He kissed your nose. "You comfy?"
"Yeah." You let your eyes fall shut again, cheek smushed into his chest. His heartbeat thumped a Christmas carol into your ear that you knew would echo even after you returned home.
A loud knock interrupted your dozing, and Billy pressed a kiss to your head before gently easing you off him. He covered you with the blanket again before retrieving his clothes again. You watched sleepily from your nest of blankets as he pulled suspenders over his shoulders.
"Be right back," he promised, leaving the door mostly shut. You could still see his shadow, the edge of his pant leg as he answered the door and thanked whoever was on the other side.
When he shut the door, you heard a curious high-pitched sound. Sitting up, you called, "Billy?"
"I'm here, sweetie." He came in with something bundled in a blanket, something squirming.
When he set the bundle on the mattress, a black shape with triangular ears darted out, looking around and sniffing the air. You gasped, holding out your hand for it to smell. "Hi, baby."
"His name's Fish," Billy said, sitting beside you on the bed. You pulled the blanket around your middle, reaching for the cat as it cautiously padded closer. "He was s'posed to be a surprise for the next time I saw you."
"Oh, Billy!" You threw your arms around him, kissing his cheek, then his mouth. "You got me a cat?"
"You always said you wanted one," he explained, threading his arms around you as you both watched the cat settle at your feet. "I want this to feel like home for you. So that maybe someday…well…"
You gave him another kiss, smiling so hard it almost hurt. "I love you, Billy Bonney. Every day I don't think it's possible to love you more and every day you prove me wrong."
"You're everything I have, sweetheart," he said tenderly, thumb smoothing your cheek. "I want to build a world with you."
"This is us." You took his other hand and pressed it over your heart. "We have a world."
He bent his neck to kiss you, and you could feel him pouring his soul into it. Your fingers sank into his hair, and you kissed him with a fervence that you felt like you'd saved for this moment.
A loud meow interrupted you, and you giggled into Billy's mouth before pulling back. "Yes, Fish?"
The cat meowed again, nudging your arm until you petted him. Billy waited patiently, sneaking kisses into your neck, your shoulder. You kept your hand on Fish's head, turning to kiss Billy again.
This cabin was the only thing in the world to you. A world of your own, all yours with the dream you'd carried inside it. As Billy cradled you close, you knew he'd hold your heart where it could be best kept safe; right beside his own, fitted like two halves.
It has never occurred to you before that the President of Panem’s wife does not have an official title.
Frankly, it simply hadn’t mattered — you are Coryo’s wife, and yes, he happens to run the country. Whether people referred to you as the First Lady, or Mrs. Snow, it meant the same thing. The same very important thing. Everyone knows who you belong to, and, by extension, who belongs to you.
But things are different now. Not because of anything to do between you and your husband, thank goodness; no, behind closed doors, where Coryo can truly be himself, the two of you are as besotted with each other as ever. And in public, where you both must be more circumspect, he still shows you every bit of respect that the President’s wife deserves.
The problem is, as you have recently discovered, when people refer to you as one thing or another, that sometimes makes it difficult for you to receive messages. Normally, your secretary can figure it out, if not just because the volume of messages you receive is low enough that there’s time to track down loose ends. You usually just receive things like invitations to brunches, or museum openings, or charity galas.
Of course, you can’t go to all of them, but your secretary will send a fruit basket to those you can’t attend.
As you stare down at the sprawl of papers taking up your desk, covered with your increasingly wobbly handwriting, you realize there isn’t a fruit basket in the world that can help you with this.
“Oh, how is there so much still to do?”
You hear the plaintive whine in your voice as you sink into your chair, but no one else does. Your poor secretary is doing her best to track down everything you need, but it’s a long list and you don’t expect her back any time soon.
You get up and pad to the small refrigerator set into the wall, hidden behind an oak panel so that it blends in with the rest of your office. It’s nearly empty, the little globes of pure spring water which usually stock its shelves reduced to just two lonely bottles. You grab one and drain it in just two long pulls. You’ve been frightfully thirsty lately, the dryness in your throat making you worry that you’re getting sick. Which is the absolute last thing you need.
You grab the last bottle of water and take it back to your desk, where you drop into your chair. You try not to let your gaze travel back to all those papers. If you look at them one more time, even for a second, you’re quite sure you still start crying.
So you bury your face in your hands, trying to comfort yourself with everything you’ve already done. You’ve arranged for the soaring conifers, bedecked with silver and gold tinsel, white lights, and red baubles the size of pomegranates to decorate the ballroom. You arranged for an orchestra to play, for dancing and for background music during the dinner portion. And you’ve planned out the whole menu, from the amuse-bouche to the dessert.
All of this is for the annual Christmas gala hosted every year, by the President and his wife — although, as you have recently come to learn, the wife does most, if not all, of the work. The President will attend, of course; not only is it tradition, but he knows how much this means to you. Christmas is your very most, absolute favorite holiday, and your family has attended this gala for as long as you can remember.
Now it’s your responsibility to put it all together, from top to bottom. You simply didn’t realize, perhaps — well, certainly — naively, just how deep the precipice was.
Of course, it doesn’t help one bit that this isn’t just any holiday party. Anyone who is anyone in Panem will be here, and they expect nothing short of an extravaganza. An elegant, beautiful extravaganza, to be sure — nothing gauche, no, never, despite some of the fashion trends that have been sweeping the Capitol lately. It’s an event that will be covered in every paper, with articles covering everything from decorations to food, to what everyone is wearing, to who they came (and left) with.
And it also doesn’t help that — oh, you are so tired, and your stomach is so sour you can often only manage to nibble dry toast until late afternoon. You’re sure all of it is telling on your face and your figure, although thankfully the newspapers haven’t printed anything yet.
You still aren’t quite used to the scrutiny that comes with being the President’s wife, and for the most part, it’s nothing more serious than what charities you attend and which ones you don’t, who accompanies you to these outings and who doesn’t, or — at the most serious — who is doing your hair and your nails these days.
Speaking of…
You pulling your hands away from your face and glance at your fingernails. The cuticles are ragged and reddened, the length of the nails themselves are horribly uneven, and you at the very least could use with a puff and a coat of clear polish. Just this week, you broke two nails, including your right ring finger just today.
“Oh, what a disaster,” you sigh, and you aren’t entirely sure if you’re talking about your nails or the planning that already seems to be slipping through your fingers.
A headache starts to throb at your temples, pressure grasping the top of your head like the hand of a giant, starting to squeeze. You close your eyes and tilt your head against the back of your chair.
You’re so absorbed in your gala-related ennui that you don’t hear the door to your little home office swing open. You are aware of the familiar, leonine sound of your husband’s footsteps as he crosses the room to you, approaching the back of your chair and squeezing your shoulders gently.
“Darling,” Coriolanus murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “I can feel how tense you are. What is it? Tell me. I’ll take care of it.”
The smooth confidence in his voice only makes your acidic stomach tighten further, a knot of misery lodged behind your ribs. Because you know he would be able to take care of it, and effortlessly, to boot. Whereas you are floundering even with the simplest tasks.
“Tell me,” he coaxes again.
You tilt your head back until it meets his chest. “I can’t do this,” you admit. “I know it’s my job — my first actual job — as your wife, and it’s just — it’s too much. It’s too much to do. I can’t do it.”
He squeezes your shoulders again, kneading the knotted muscles. You can’t help but melt at his touch, the tension ebbing away at the warmth and strength of his touch. You even manage a giggle when he spins your chair around, the toes of your shoes skimming the plush carpet.
“Your only job as my wife,” he says, bracing his hands on the back of the chair behind you, “is to devote yourself, however you see fit, to your own happiness. As long as your own happiness includes me.”
You smile up at him. “Of course it does,” you say.
Coryo smiles back at you. “Well, then,” he says, “that’s sorted.”
He takes your hand and pulls you to your feet just long enough to slip into the chair behind you, then tugs you onto his lap. His arms winding around you, pulling you tight against his chest, makes you soften even further.
“So,” he says, his chin nestling against your hair, “tell me what else needs to be done. I have absolutely no doubt you are capable of doing all of this by yourself, but if, for whatever reason, you wanted my help…”
He trails off, and you smile again as you lay your cheek against his shoulder. “You have so much to do,” you murmur, hesitating, but all you receive in response is a little hmph.
So you tell him everything you have left to do, from ordering the centerpieces and booking a photographer, to arranging for a velvet carpet to be laid down from the circular drive to the entrance of the venue. Somehow, although the list seemed as long as your arm when you were sitting here alone, as you’re relating it to Coriolanus, it doesn’t seem so insurmountable.
“Valeria is taking care of some of it,” you say, mentioning your assistant. “But…”
You hesitate, peeking up at your husband. Coryo just smiles, raising an eyebrow expectantly. “But?”
“If you could…the centerpieces? I’m sure the florist would…would listen to you…”
He chuckles. “I would be glad to help with the centerpieces,” he says.
You start to duck your head back against his shoulder, but he catches your chin. As it often does, the intensity of his pale blue gaze makes you feel as if you’re floating, in the most pleasant way possible. You could honestly just close your eyes, and then he gives you a gentle little nudge, urging you to get up.
“Come with me,” he says. “I want to show you something.”
With your hand still in his, you follow your husband down the hall. You know where he’s taking you, and still, you feel the familiar lift of your heart as he swings the door open.
Even before the door opens all the way, you’re struck by the beauty of the room. There is already a cradle, sumptuous oak inlaid with gold, lined with red velvet. Above it hangs a canopy, also of red shot through with gold, draped over a mobile shaped like a crown, which supports a host of fairies, all posed as if in flight. In the corner is a deep, well-cushioned chair, with a foot stool set in front of it, a lamp bent over it like a sunflower.
Since it’s still the early months, and even in his joy Coryo is a cautious man, this is as far as you’ve gotten into decorating, but the room is already carpeted. It’s a thick, plush green, the color especially striking against the simple cream wallpaper. And then Coryo pushes the door all the way open, revealing the whole room, and you gasp.
“Oh!” you breathe, your face brightening in delight.
Slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you close against his side, he says, “Do you like it?”
In the corner, twinkling brightly, is a Christmas tree, small enough to barely come up to your shoulder, but beautifully decorated for all that. Lights and ornaments sparkle in its boughs, and atop, there is a little angel, blonde and dressed in blue, its halo glowing brightly atop its yellow curls. The picture is framed in the window across the room, through which you can see snow clouds starting to gather, soft and thick as cotton.
“I love it,” you breathe, and you look up to see Coryo smiling back at you.
“I hoped you would,” he murmurs.
He slides his free hand across your stomach, which is ever so slightly curved, hardly visible to the eye but amply evident to his touch, if his lingering caress is anything to go by. “
I know,” he says, “you have been working so hard on this gala, and I know how important it is to you.”
He presses a kiss to your temple, and adds, “I just wanted to remind you of what we have to look forward to in the year to come. And…” Another kiss, which makes you smile again. “…I also wanted to remind you that you are creative, and determined, and extremely capable. This gala will be beautiful, and everyone will have a wonderful time.”
Another kiss.
“And remember,” he says, “all you have to do is ask, and I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
You look up at him. “I think, for right now, all I want to do is sit here with you,” you say, “and enjoy our baby’s nursery.”
Coryo smiles at you, leading you by the hand to the well-cushioned chair, drawing him into your lap again. You settle your head against his chest, and the two of you watch the tree gleam and shine as, beyond the window, snow begins to fall.
Summary: After nearly a year of mystery presents, your gift giver finally reveals himself to be none other then the outlaw Billy-the-kid.
Warnings: Mentions of violence, nonco/dunco, unhealthy behaviours, out of character, Dead dove do not eat.
Word count: 7781
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
part 4 coming soon
You reach Montville late afternoon instead of the early morning promised. You knew it was your fault. Billy would have made it days ago if not for you.
You can’t ride as long or as fast as he can. The extra weight of you slowed his horse down. But it was too late to turn back. Westfield was long gone, your security with it.
While you were in Montville you were Billy’s wife and as such, under his protection. You would worry about the ramifications of it later. Right now a woman, alone, in a foreign town, would only mean trouble. No one would come to the aid of such a woman.
Billy finds the town hotel with ease, as if he had been here before. The tall building flooded people in and out of its doors. You hear music and people loudly talking over it.
The whole town seemed to be vibrant. Unlike the sleeply, peacefully smalll town of Westfield. Back home everyone was in doors as soon as the sun began to set, here it seemed they only just woke up.
”This ain’t Westfield”, Billy spoke your mind, “You got to be careful here. Don’t trust anybody. Anyone who speaks to you is either lying or trying to cheat you. Just stay close okay”.
You nod to let him know you understood. People watch you as Billy’s slides down to tie his horse to the post before coming back to retrieve you.
After he helps you down, he goes to unpack the bags from his horse. You keep your promise under the curious gaze, shadowing him as he moves.
You didn’t look like the other women here. They wore bright, big dresses and feathers. Showing more skin then what was respectable.
It was obvious you were out of place, and the whole town knew.
Eager to get a room, you help Billy carry the bags into the front entrance. Not even minding his tight hold on your hand.
“Excuse me”. Billy greets the women behind the podium, “We’re looking for a room. One with a bath”.
The women’s bright red dress mostly covered her. Although her breasts were pushed up nearly over the neckline. She was young, couldn’t have been more than five years your senior. No ring was on her finger, and she spoke with careless authority.
“The one with the baths cost extra”, she states, giving Billy the once over but never paying you any mind.
“That’s okay”, Billy contends, “It’s our honeymoon”.
She raises a thick, dark eyebrow in response but turns to retrieve a key from behind her.
“No discounts”, she slaps a key on the counter and points to her left. The open doorway shows the source of the noise. A large crowd outpaced the available table and chairs. People weaved through the space,
“We serve breakfast at seven. Lunch at twelve thirty ,and dinner at six. The girls charge their own rates, although I doubt a married man like you is worried about that”.
”No” Billy agrees.
“Two pence a night”, the women directs.
Your jaws drops at the price but Billy lets go of your hand to retrieve his purse.
Once the money is exchanged, the woman directs you up the stairs where you were more than happy to follow billy into designated room.
A bath tub in the corner is blocked off by a brown, wooden room divider. A double bed is pushed in the corner and neatly made.In the far corner across, a small rectangle table and chair is found, holding a candle stick and a jug of water.
A long window up high allows natural light in to the otherwise empty room.
You stand stunned at the space you found yourself in. It would be the first bed you ever slept in that wasn’t your own.
Billy moved comfortably, dropping the bags and disappearing behind the divider.
You hear the pipe groan as it retrieves the water. The water splashes quickly in a continuous flow. It was obvious when billy put his hand under it to test the temperature.
He must have found it satisfactory as he reappeared in front of you again. A soft smile greets you but you don’t offer one back.
“I’ll go find a stable for Buddy”, he tells you. He is back in his signature posture, hand on his holster, hard, stiff Stance with a leg out in front of him.
You drop your bag on the floor, reaching to loosen your hat from your head as he speaks,
“Then I might go explore. See if I can get information on our friend Henry. I doubt he would still be here but he wouldn’t be too far”.
He moves as if something had kicked him, straightening up his stance, and securing his hat more firmly on his head.
“You should take a bath. Relax. We’ll go down for dinner when I return and we’ll have an early night”.
You nod again, your eyes flying around the room.
With his hat on straight, he moves over to you, slowly and cautious, leaning down with clear intent to kiss. You turn your head away but he settles with planting a quick kiss to your cheek, before moving to the door.
“Oh y/n”, he stops half way out the door to turn to you, “If anyone comes to the door act as if you aren’t here. If they know a girl is alone in here, they may try and get in”.
You shiver at the thought. You wanted to shout at him for bring you to such a place, but the words were stuck in your throat. Instead you just nod again in understanding. He takes it and leaves. The key locks you in but you feel oddly grateful for it.
You take Billy’s advice and take a long, hot bath. Scrubbing every inch of yourself and washing your hair.
It felt good to be done and clean. Billy still wasn’t back so you took it upon yourself to begin washing the clothes in the bath water. You debated doing Billy’s but he did share his food and shelter with you. Besides, there was nothing else to do anyway
You wring the clothes out, leaving them to dry across the room when Billy returns.
He eyes the drying clothes before he lands on your face with a kind smile.
“Are you okay? Did anyone come to the door?”, he asks.
“No”, you confirm, hanging his wet shirt across the back of the chair.
“You should have had a lie down” he critiqued, coming over and placing his large hands on your hips, “You’ve been travelling for days”.
You shove his hands off you, turning around to face him.
“And who’s fault is that?”, you bite.
Not wanting to be near him, you move away to pull the plug from the bath tub.
“I’ve got some good news” he announces following you over to the tub, “He got chased out of town here. Sheriff injured him in the fight which means he’s heading to the city. Only place he could go to get the proper care”.
He sits on the edge of the bath tub, next to where you knelt.
“Figure we can afford to lose a day or two here. From what I hear, he ain’t going anywhere too fast”.
”We should keep going”, you contend. You needed to keep Billy's mind occupied with his quest. Staying in a place like this would encourage him.
‘Every day he will get better. This room is too expensive. I just want to finish this and go home”.
Billy reaches out to put a hand on your arm, concern written over his face.
”Hey, you let me worry about that”.
You stand up to brush him off, going back over to the centre of the room.
“We’ll stay tonight, and set off tomorrow”, you demand.
“We need supplies,” he tells you. He stands up to match you once more but remains past the divider.
“We should stay. At least for a day or two. See if we can find out what gun he uses. If he is with anybody. His fighting style, anything. You never know what might be useful in the long run”.
”What if someone kills him before you do? You’ll lose the bounty. All of this would be for nothing”.
”No”, he fights, “not for nothing”.
He moves forward slowly, only taking a couple of steps before stopping himself.
“If he dies before I can get to him, we’ll figure something else out. Not the only wanted man in the world”.
”No”, you scoff, “I dare say not”.
You can tell your words hurt him. Most criminals wear their crime like a badge of honour, but he seems to want to distance himself from Billy-the-kid and just be William. But he is branded now. Billy the kid would grace the name of his tombstone.
He takes his hat off his head and throws it to the end of the bed with a sigh.
“I’ll take a bath if you don’t mind. And then we can go get something to eat’.
Without waiting for answer, he begins to remove his suspenders from his shoulders.
”Where should I go?”, you ask, watching him as he tends to his bath.
“You have to go somewhere?”, he asks unbuttoning his shirt.
“It’s improper”.
“For a stranger but not for a wife”, he contends, “You can wait in the room while your husband bathes”.
He disappears behind the divider to take the rest of his clothes off. You go to the table and chair in the farthest part of the room and stare at the wall.
You hear him as he enters the bath. The sloshing of water as he scrubs himself clean. Imagining him rubbing a wet cloth over his body is almost as worse as actually seeing it. He dunks his head under water, you can hear him as he does it.
The steam of the bath floats overhead to you, heating up the room.
He continues to wash, you continue to imagine his movements. A knot forms in your stomach as you get an uncomfortable, needy feeling between your legs. Your face is flush, shame fills your very core. You try and push him out of your mind, slamming your head on the table and throwing your arms over your head to try to block out the noise.
He finally finishes not long after. You hear the pull of the plug and the drainage of the water. Still you don’t lift your head.
You hear bare feet against the hardwood floors. They get louder as he crosses the floor.
”You alright?”, he questions.
”Are you dressed yet?”.
”Almost”.
The sound of his belt instilled belief in you but you remained hunched over.
Only when he approaches you and flips your hair back over your shoulder do you raise your head, certain he would be dressed.
His suspenders hung at his hips, and his boots remained on the floor but otherwise he was adequately dressed to be viewed.
“Shall we go eat?”. His fingers linger near your neck, gently grazing the skin.
You push off your chair, knocking off his touch and running to the door. You wait for him there as he pulls on his boots and suspenders.
You are eager to get out of the room. The uncomfortable feeling remains, you worry he feels it too.
If he does he doesn’t show it. He is almost sluggish from his day as he moves closer to the door. He takes your hand wordlessly and leads the way to the dining room.
It was somehow busier than this morning. The loud shouts fill your ear painfully. As you walk, only a few centimetres separates you and the next person. The band playing helped none.
Billy manoeuvres through the crowd up to the bar where he kept you behind him as he spoke to the bartender.
The evidence of the key was enough to secure two bowls of stew, and a bottle of wine. The bartender tells you to sit where you can, although the chances of that are slim.
You follow Billy with your bowl in your hands as he scouts the area. Your eyes look at the company. Big, mean looking men. Drunkish women laughing too loudly. Your father would die if he knew you were here. He hated you going to the tavern back home which pales in comparison.
Billy turns back to check on you, seeing your distressed face, he tucks the wine bottle under his arm and reaches out his hand.
“Maybe we should eat in the room”, he suggests.
”No”, you whine. You had been stuck there all day. At least down here there was something to look at. Besides eating amongst drying clothes on a wet floor would do nothing to lift your spirts.
“Here mate!” The voice boomed but the liquor hung heavy on every syllable.
“Here” it yelled again demanding Billy’s eyes.
An older gentleman with a young girl was in lap called out. His face was red from the drink and his white blouse was wide open so his lady friend could play with his chest hair.
You pull back as Billy follows the command of the voice.
“Here, my friend” He tells billy, “You can have our place”
The man squeezes the girl in his arms causing her to playfully squeal against him.
“It’s time we went upstairs”, he spoke into his friend neck.
“Thank you, sir”, Billy acknowledges, putting down his bowl and bottle of wine. He then reaches for your bowl of stew and glasses which you let go.
The man retreats from the women neck but makes no move to get up.
“Sister?”, the man guesses.
”Wife”, Billy quickly corrects, “On our honeymoon”.
The admission causes the man to laugh wholly and without reservation.
”Did I say something funny?” Billy bickered.
You worried the provocation would lead to a fight, but the man puts a hand up in surrender and halts his laughter.
“No, son, no”, the man comments, now standing to his feet, “Just rare to see awkward newly weds out this way. You know where to put that thing?”.
Billy hand hovers over his gun, the man see it as his eyes roll up from his jest.
”I know where to put this thing”, he warns.
“Whoa. Whoa”, the man laughs, “Take it easy. It was just a joke. My night is just beginning, not ending”.
The man turns to you showing you how bloodshot his eyes were. You wanted to tell Billy the man was too drunk to realise what he was saying, but Billy didn’t seem to be in the mood to hear you.
“He always like this?”, the man wobbles forward as he speaks to you, causing Billy to pull you back with his hold on your hand.
“Don’t talk to her”, Billy demands. His hand now off his gun, but still close to his belt.
“Sorry”, the man mockingly whispered.
“Dalton”, the women behind him protested, pulling on his shoulder.
“You, and your woman, have a nice night now” Billy dismisses.
He blindly reaches for the hand of his counterpart before he gives a wink to Billy.
“I hope you and yours do too”, the man gibed.
“I ain’t his woman. I ain’t no ones woman”, she declared, ripping her hand from her customer to wave it in Billy face.
”My apologies ma’am” Billy offers with a tilt of his hat.
“What do you mean not my woman? I’m paying you ain’t I? Well that makes you my woman”.
She was grabbed more forcefully by the man and shook violently. She spits at him in return before being smacked down to the ground. You gasp, hands flying to your face in shock.
Billy is less surprised by the outcome. He grabs the man by the back of his shirt when he pulls back another punch for the woman and throws him backwards to the ground.
The woman is quick to leap to her feet and disappear amongst the crowd. Only a few who had stopped to see the commotion. The rest didn’t stop in movement or sound.
“Let her go now’, Billy demanded.
He turns back to you, directing you into the spare chair and pushing your bowl closer. You sit at command but your mouth wouldn’t close from shock.
Dalton rises in anger at his ruined night, leaping from the floor up to Billy.
“Billy”, you squeal, pointing to the charging man.
He is quick enough to turn but not to stop himself from being tackled to the ground.
This commotion drew sight of half the room who whooped and holled as they wrestled each other.
A circle formed around them blocking your view. You push to the front certain Billy was facing death. The man was older, bigger, and more viscous. Billy couldn’t shoot him even if he could get to his gun. This man was unarmed. Billy would be hung before the night finished. With Buddy in a nearby stable you wouldn’t be able to flee fast enough.
You try to push your way to the front but as the fight intensified, more men blocked your way. They paid you no mind as you tried to fight to get between them. Their bodies were like bricks, unmovable and unresponsive.
You see one man lose interest, turning away, you rush to take his spot before the men closed in.
To your relief Billy was on top, pounding his fist twice into the mans face but then letting go to stand up. His hat laid in the corner next to a mans foot, Billy staggers to go get it. He was breathing heavily from the fight but otherwise seemed to be okay.
A slight wince doesn’t go unnoticed by you as he bends to snatch his hat up. The man must have got a few good shots to his ribs. You wondered if he would be okay to ride.
“You owe me a woman!” The man shouts over the ever playing music, “Give me a turn on yours and I’ll forget it”.
The man crawls over to where you stood and reaches for the bottom of your dress, too hurt to rise for a full assault. You pull back but the crowd of bodies would not let you retreat.
Billy rushes over like you knew he would, and stomps his boot down on the man's face. The crowd cheers as the man falls back to the crowd. Mumbling odd words that didn’t form a sentence nor stop as the blood from his nose runs to his mouth.
The crowd embrace Billy as the winner, closing in on him to offer their admiration. You are pushed forward as they do. Billy steps closer to you, pulling you close to his chest and holding out his hand to stop people from getting too close.
The man is taken from the floor to free up the space. You watch as he is dragged out as Billy shuffles back to the table.
“Are you alright?”, you can finally ask as the crowd loses interest.
He bends down to where you are sat and presses a deep kiss against your lips in response.
He sighs as he rises, going back to his side of the table where the man once sat. He throws his hat on the back of the chair and slides into it sluggishly.
You didn’t realise how tired he looked but now you can see it so plain.
He picks up his spoon bringing a mouthful of stew into his mouth. A man slaps him on his back in passing causing him to spill over the table.
Frustrated Billy drops the spoon completely, using his hands to bury his face in.
“This isn’t how I wanted this to go”, he complains, “I am sorry”.
”It’s not your fault” you offer. He was protecting the woman. Despite your hate for him, even you saw that.
‘None of this is how I wanted things to go”, he removes his hands from his face to look at you, reaching out across the table for the hand you do not give. Still he leaves there, outstretched and begging for you.
“This wasn’t meant to be your honeymoon”, he says almost apologetically.
“It’s not” you refute. Billy is your husband in protection only.
“You only get one true one”, Billy contends, withdrawing the offering of his hand.
“I’ll keep that in mind”, you bite.
“Do you have to be so…”, Billy doesn’t finish his sentence, reaching for the bottle of wine instead and pouring out a glass.
“Yes” you answer. Angry, hot tears dab at your eyes but none fall. “I am away from my father who I didn’t get to say goodbye to, I am stuck in foreign place with an outlaw who has ruined my reputation forever. I am tired, hungry, and angry. So angry. I’ve had my whole life mapped out by men who never once asked me what I want”.
”You’re right”, Billy says softly, avoiding your gaze, “I am sorry things have turned out this way. I don’t mean to decide your life, only my part in it. Once I get this money, we can do anything you want to”, his gaze finds you at his promise, holding you captive as he makes his pledge, “Anything, anywhere, so long as I am with you, I don’t mind”.
His promise softens you. You were unsure how to respond. Only a young boy would make such a pledge, you realise billy the kid is exactly that. A young boy alone in the world. You wonder if that’s where his need for a wife comes from.
“Right now, I just want to eat and go to bed”, you state, picking up your spoon for a mouthful of stew.
Billy nods in agreement, following suit. The talk at the table dies, but you can hear the lost words from the man behind you explaining the alteration moments ago.
You hear the shuffling of boots as the man re-enacts the scene, poorly and somewhat drunk.
Billy eyes the scene behind you, leaping up out of his chair next to you and holding out a protective hand to stop the man from swaying into you as he talked.
The man immediately apologises, stepping away from the table and Billy pushes no further.
To your irritation the space is quickly taken up again by someone else. The room was too busy for personal space. The music too loud for any deep conversation to occur so foolishness seeped through the room, loudly and with little care for your distress.
“It’s hot” you complain to Billy as he retakes his seat. The heat from the bodies began to stick to your skin, “And loud. Maybe we should go upstairs”.
Billy looks around the room, trying to find a solution to your issue like a good husband should.
”I have a better idea”, he states picking up the bowls of half-eaten stew, “Follow me”.
You take the bottle of wine off the table as you do. He leads you through the crowd to the back door
He leads you out to the back deck. The cold air felt refreshing after the hot, crowded room. Even the noise dulled behind the closed door. Only faint stomping and laughter over the distant music could be heard. The crickets were louder, welcoming you.
“Better?” Billy asks in genuine question.
You nod your head, taking a seat on the cold step to eat your stew. Billy joins you, and for a moment you two share a quiet moment together. The stew was salty and had little meat but after days of travelling it was a fresh, hot meal so you couldn’t complain.
You finish it quickly, your spoon hitting the bottom before your appetite had finished. Billy noticed, as he always seemed to do.
“Here”, he offers, exchanging your bowl for his.
“Oh no”, you politely declined but the bowl was thrust into your hands.
You try again to refuse but billy acts as if he doesn’t hear you.
He places the bowl on the floor beside him, and lays back on the deck, gazing up at the stars above.
“Aren’t you hungry?”, you ask, looking at his red cheek.
“You eat” he replies, not shifting his gaze.
Selfishly you do. Finishing his bowl in less than a minute, and placing your bowl down in the same fashion.
“Thank you”, you softly praise.
He smiles gently but continues to look up at the sky.
From the corner of your eye, you see him gently lift his hand and wave it softly, before tucking it back under his head as a pillow.
“Do you want some wine?” He offers, slowly rising up. He stops hearing your no, laying flat back down.
A tug on your elbow pulls you back next to billy. His arm cradles you to his chest, holding you close and tight. Your instinct was to struggle out of his hold but his warm was not unwelcomed and your tiredness weighed you down.
“Who’s up there?” You ask him.
“Hm, everyone. My Ma, my pa, my little brother”.
‘Do you have no one else? No other family?” You pry. You wonder if that fuels his desire to have a wife. To make his own family.
“Maybe back in Ireland. But I wouldn’t know them”.
”I couldn’t live without my father” you sympathise
“Yes you can”, your comment irritated Billy who rose up from the cold floor into a sitting position.
“I wasn’t trying to argue with you”, you explain. His hold is no longer on you as he folds into a defensive stance.
”I am just saying I realise how hard it would be to have no family”.
He turns to you, extending out his hand in peace and placing it on your knee.
“Well I am not alone anymore”, he says.
is this why he is doing this? A forced wife for a desperate man?
Would you play this part? What would happen to you if you didn’t? What would your father do to you once he found out?
”I am tired”, you state, standing up. Billy follows, taking the bowls and bottle of wine with him.
You don’t wait, turning back to the crowd indoors. The men cheer as Billy enters into the room.
No one blocks you way but crowd you as they spur on Billy.
He manages to place the bowls and wine down, to free his hands to place on your waist as you lead the way upstairs.
You could have knocked his hands off as you reached the top off the stairs and out of the eye sight of the crowd but you chose not to for the short walk to the door.
Billy steps up behind you rather than moving to the side. You felt his broad shoulders rub against you as he unlocked the door.
When it open, it gives you space to distance yourself from him. You go about lighting a lamp and sourcing your nightdress from the dried washing.
You can feel him watching you as you dart around the room so you try to deliberately avoid eye contact.
“Yell 'done' when you are dressed for bed” you ordered him as you disappear behind the divider.
You wait a moment before undressing to ensure billy wouldn’t follow you around.
Your stiff hands only began their work upon hearing him call “done” followed by the squeak of the bed as he rested in it.
Would he expect you to perform wifely duties now that you were out of the forest. He ribs were sore that could prove to be useful if he tried. Although you doubted you would be able to stop him even with that.
With your night dress on, you poke your head out to check to see if he was ready to pounce. Instead, you see him sitting up right on the bed, arms crossed and head lowered to his chest in sleep. It was a long day for Billy, or maybe god was protecting you until your father found you.
Either way, you were careful not to wake him. Blowing out the candle and tip toeing to your side of the bed. There was only one blanket and it was too cold to sleep on the floor so you yield to your desire to warm yourself under the sheets.
The bed was only small, you could feel Billy’s body heat next to you. There was little space between you, accidentally hitting billy leg as you found your spot. He doesn’t wake, which gives you enough security to fall asleep.
You are woken during the night when billy wakes up from his uncomfortable position. His shifting breaks your soft sleep as he lowers himself next to you. His finger twists your hair up out of his face, his nose now brushing against the back of your neck as he snuggles in. The feeling of arms wrapping around you was the last thing you remember before sleep took over.
————————————————-
The next morning you wake, alone and late. The sun blinded you as it rose over the window. Billy was gone.
You wonder why he didn’t wake you. Where has he gone that he couldn’t take you?
Your stomach growls, you hope you didn’t miss breakfast.
You dress as quick as you can, eager to go downstairs despite your nerves. The rowdy men were sure to still be asleep. It surely would be safe enough to eat breakfast.
Billy did not think the same. The door was locked when you tried it. You were to stay where you were until Billy returned.
You kicked and screamed at the door before remembering where you were. The people on the other side would not help you without their own gain.
You fume as you pack away the clean clothes. Your father would find you shortly and make Billy pay for this treatment.
You longed for Westville and your own bed. Familiarity that only the place you were born and raised could bring. You hated being at Billy’s mercy. Under his protection and therefore his will while you waited for this to end.
How would your father react when you found out you were married? There must be some sort of law that could undo it due to distress. Something that could get you out of binding your life to him.
Would your father kill him to get you out of it? Would you let him really die? You hated Billy for what he has done, but knew there was goodness so deep within him that it overflowed. However, you remind yourself he was the outlaw Billy-the-kid. Maybe he deserved to die. Maybe he would escape death again, and find another girl in the next town.
You would cross the bridge of Billy’s punishment when it came. For right now, you need to stay focused.
With the washing put away, there was little else to do but stare out the window at passers-by and daydream about going home.
The scratch of the key at the door, arose your fury and you stood to face him as he came through the door.
“Hey”, he greeted you, “Good morning”.
He had been to the shops you summarised from the parcels in his hands. A place he could have brought you.
“How dare you” you seeth, “Don’t you ever lock me in here again”.
He looked puzzled but apologised anyway, ‘You were asleep. I didn’t want to wake you”.
“You locked the door Billy. That was a little more than fear of waking me. Where did you think I was going to go? You know I wouldn’t make it back without you. You were trying to intimidate me”.
”No” Billy refutes coming closer, ‘I told you this isn’t Westfield anymore. You need to be careful here. If somebody sees something they want, they just take it”.
”Oh”, you scoff, “And you wouldn’t know anything about that”.
He walks past you angry, going over to the table and dropping his purchases.
“I brought you some bread from the bakery”, he changes topics, “I thought you might be hungry”.
He holds out the bag for you to take which you do, tearing into the soft sweet bread instantly.
While you ate, he talked. You sat at the bed, picking at your food while he stood over by the window.
“I went around town asking about our friend. He has two guns. His main one and one strapped to his ankle. They recon’ he made friends too but I got different answers to how many”.
”Do you get more money if you kill them too?” You ask interested.
“No. It would be just murder without a warrant. Maybe self-defence if they raise first”.
Worried pooled in your stomach. What would you do if billy died? You would never get back to Westfield without him.
”It’s not too late to turn back. We could go back to Westfield. I would admit to being married”, you offer.
He comes before you, kneeling down and gazing up at you as he spoke.
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Everything is fine. When we get to Aratula I will figure out a way to lure him out”.
”How can you speak so casually about murdering a man?”, you question in disgust.
“Hardly a man. Murders women and children. Innocent, unarmed men. I will put him down without too much thought or remorse”.
You nod in support. The world would be a better place without Jackson in it. It would just be better if the murder was not your husband.
“I also stopped by the jeweller”, he announces pulling out a drawstring pouch from his pocket. He lifts your hand and places the gold band on your finger, giving it a kiss to seal it in place. “I was worried it wouldn’t fit”.
The ring was comfortably tight on your hand.The weight of it felt foreign. It symbolised ownership but given the circumstances you were grateful for it.
”Mrs Bonney”, he coons, standing up.
“I guess I am”, you agree.
”Let me wash up and we’ll go see if any more townspeople have anything to say”.
Billy washes the sweat from his body with a damp cloth while you finish your bread. Gratefully, soon you were out of the room and into the fresh air.
It was exciting to explore another town besides your own. You had never been away from home before. Billy remained close as you went from shop to shop questioning people.
Most talked freely, telling you everything they knew. Jackson had terrorized the town despite only passing through for a short period of time. Others dismissed you without a word.
Late afternoon came quickly, the only real piece of useful information you received is the location Jackson stayed until he was chased from the town. You implore Billy to go see it, curious yourself to see the stay of an outlaw.
It was on the outskirts of town, from where you were it would have been longer to walk back to the town centre to collect your horse then to just continue walking so you set off with Billy, chasing the sun as it went down.
It was less than what you expected. A rundown stone place with a straw roof. It dulled your excitement looking at it.
“A Quick Look”, Billy commands, “I don’t want to be here long”.
He eyes the place as if he expects someone to jump out from the surrounding rocks and ambush him. He was always cautious, you observed.
The place was left in an array. No furniture stood upright, bullet holes cover the surfaces of nearly everything. You are amazed he managed to escape with his life. He suddenly felt much more dangerous.
Billy investigated the property. Looking in draws for anything of use. Jackson has left his clothes in the run, but nothing else of use. No clue to a weakness or indication of the sort of gun he used.
You see blood on the stone floor. It splatted where he got shot and then dripped on the floor to the back door. You can see it so clearly, you could almost imagine the entire fight in your head.
A loud bang shakes you from your head when Billy drops an item to the floor in his search. You jump out of your skin and into his arms in fright. Scolding yourself when you realise you were acting like a little girl who had heard her first ghost story.
He catches you instantly, wrapping his arms around you in protection with a soft chuckle.
“Sorry”, he apologizes, giving you a squeeze, “Let’s get you out of here, hey?”.
Once you see there is no real danger, you push out of his arms. Straightening your dress to steady yourself.
“Let me go pee and then we’ll head. Just stay here” he commands.
You wait for him inside while he follows the blood trail outside. He goes around the side of the house, checking over his shoulder to ensure you didn’t follow. Only then does he unscrew the lid of his water bottle, tipping out all but two mouthfuls out.
With a sigh, he returns the lid and goes back into the house to collect you.
The sun was nearly gone on the walk back but the humidity of the day lingered beyond its welcome.
He plans works perfectly when you ask for a drink of water only to receive the last few drops.
”Is that it?” You asked him surprised. You hadn’t seen him drink once from the canister.
“We’re almost back”, he confirms, but takes a wrong turn deliberately.
Your annoyance at him grew as you travelled back through unrecognised pasture. When you finally did reach town centre your throat burned for a drink and your legs a rest.
He leads you back to your hotel bar. It wasn’t as busy as the night before. A few seats were spare, and there was no band playing tonight. You could have shouted in joy. Your patience was at an end.
Billy leaves you at a table in the corner while he goes to the bar to collect the nights meal and water.
On a tray he carried back two plates of roast dinner and large glass bottle that looked too cloudy to be water.
He places the meal in front of you without a word and pours out a glass of the liquid. It was not water, you brought it up to your nose for a smell, pulling back when it burnt your nose.
“Drink it”, he says, “It will rehydrate you. Cowboys drink it all the time”.
As thirsty as you were, you believe it. Gaging as goes down bitterly.
He pours you another glass. Before you can reject it, he convinces you once more.
“We’re supposed to drink the whole bottle. It helps to replenish our bodies”.
Seeing no reason not to trust him, you take the next glass sipping it slowly this time.
It sat better in your stomach with food. Soaking up the quinsy feeling. It was a strange drink, the more you drank the harder it was to stop. Billy only had a glass or two. He was always so sacrificial, you thought to yourself.
Suddenly you found his words very funny. Your mood improved but you found it hard to find the words you wanted to say. You would dance if there was music, but instead you laugh loudly at a story Billy told. You weren’t sure what was funny, only that it was.
Your hand reaches for the bottle, but Billy catches it as it is risen.
“I think we’ve had enough”, he states, gently lowering it back down.
“I thought we were supose’ to finish the bo’ttle?” You slur.
“You’re hydrated plenty. Why don’t we go up stairs”, he suggests.
You nod enthusiastically. You were tired, but when you rose your legs wobbled and the room began to spin.
Billy is quick to your side, gripping your waist as you hold yourself up on his shoulders.
“Walked too much”, you comment.
“Hmm”, he agrees, beginning to assist you forward.
The stairs proved difficult. They seemed to move under you, your footing was unsure, and you found it all so funny.
“Oop”, you exclaim stumbling forward, testing his hold.
“Careful”, he warns, “we’re almost there”.
The door was only ten feet but you somehow managed it in twenty. Billy keeps you up with a hold around your waist as he fiddles to get the door open. You giggle into his arm watching him. Always so serious. He smiles at you in response, giggle himself as he unlocks the door and swings it open.
“Alrighty, come on you”, he shuffles you in, laying you on the bed first before he goes back to lock the door.
“You alright?” He asks you.
He sits down beside you on the bed, brushing his hand across your face.
“I had fun today’, you admit. Playing detective in a new city, gave you a thrill you had never experienced.
“You did?”, he chuckles.
You hum back in confirmation. Your eyes closing themselves in tiredness before you forced them back open to look at billy. Only moonlight lit the room, it was just enough to make out your surroundings.
”I am tired”, you complain, sitting up to take off your shoes. Billy rises from the bed to assist you in undoing the laces and disregarding the shoes on the floor.
“I know baby”, he acknowledges, “I just want to try something first and then you can go to sleep”.
He sit back on the end of the bed and gently messages your feet with his hand while he rids himself of his boots, hat and holster with the other.
He squeezes at your ankles and cafs, edging slowly back to the middle of the bed and parting your legs under the disguise of a massage.
His hand crawls up your leg as he squeezes, pushing up your skirt to your hips. Even in your drunk state, you attempt to push it down.
”It’s alright baby”, he tells you, “I don’t imagine everyone has ever told you about this before”.
”About what?” You question, trying to sit up but Billy pushes you back down by your shoulders.
“I’ll show you. It feels good. Just lie still and I’ll show you”.
You feel the strings over your undergarments loosen.
”what are you doing?”, you whine. Your head spun, and your lower region ached in desire. You knew you should tell him to stop. It wasn’t right. But without your clear head, your lust kept you compliant.
”I know what sex is”, you state, giving his hands a weak shove.
He manages to pull them down, leaving you bare. Your hands bunch your dress, covering yourself with weak constituent.
His hand reaches under the bunched fabric, his thumb gently rubs against your Clint in a circular motion. Your hips buck at the sensation.
”I know that” he confirmed, “I just don’t think anyone ever told you how good it feels”.
Good, indeed. Your cunt was warm and wet, giving him no resistance as he moved his fingers. When his spare hand pushed yours away, you gave up too easily, baring yourself to him and his pleasure.
“You don’t have to fight it. God intended it to be enjoyable”, Billy coxes.
“You gotta stay up through”, he comments, tapping your face lightly so you would open your eyes.
“Good girl” he praises when you do.
He rewards you by going down and placing his mouth against you. His tongue lashes between your folds, eliciting a low moan from your throat. His thumb never stops rubbing against your client, and his warm, hot mouth covers you whole.
Knots form and then fall in your stomach as he works, slowing building to completion.
When he raises his head to speak, it disrupts the flow completely.
“Feel good, huh angel?”.
You push his head back down, urging him to continue and he does with more passion than before.
You come with a yelp, wiggling as he licks you clean greedily.
Despite just laying there, your body heated to the point of sweat. Your head rolled back against your pillow and sleep fought to take control of your body now your high was complete.
“Hey, no, no”, he calls coming back to your face. He taps gently against your face.
“You have to stay up okay? Just a moment longer”, he promises.
He hastily takes off his shirt and pants, before attempting to undo your dress without your assistance.
”Stay awake darling”, he commands, lifting your neck against his shoulder so he could shimmy down your dress. With great effort he gets it off. Shame floods you as it hits the floor.
“It’s natural”, he soothes, seeing your distressed face, meeting it with a kiss, “Husband and wife are one flesh. We’re just being one flesh”.
You see him move in the dark, reaching for something in the draw before his hands disappeared into the dark shadows below him.
He feel the tip of his cock, poke at your entire before finding the correct hole and shoving it in. You gasp at the pain as it enters without warning, clawing at his back as he slowly adjusts himself in you.
“You’re good. You’re good”, he promises, “It will go away”.
The pain does go away and you begin to feel full with him inside of you. Every time he separates his hips to thrust, you almost felt empty.
“My beautiful girl”, he praises into your ear.
“Billy” you moan half in pleasure and half in disgust.
“Right here, darling, now till forever”.
He kisses you once more. Grunting into your mouth as he picks up pace nearing his end. The pressure helps to build you to the spot where you were able to come with him.
He rests in you keeping you full, as he brushes his fingers against your face. Dragging them all over in a calming fashion. When you lose the fight to keep your eyes open, he pulls himself from you, covering you with the blanket and placing a kiss against your forehead.
“Goodnight Mrs Bonney”, he whispers, taking his condom off himself and going over to the basin to wash it out for reuse.
How strange, you thought, to sleep as billy- the- kids wife.
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