E

Being Commander of District 12 meant that Coriolanus couldn’t just whisk you away to the forest to face his fears. He had a whole army dependent on him. It meant that while you were held up in his apartment, he was held up in his office. 

It annoyed him to no end. To have you so close and yet still out of reach. 

Despite you living with him for a week, you’ve only shared one meal together. 

His overtime meant that you were asleep by the time he got home. 

You had left a clean pair of his pajamas on the end of the bed. He had a habit of just stripping down to his underwear to join you. 

You left dinner for him in the fridge and he sat at the dinner table eating it alone. 

On the odd occasion, there was time to spend together, the mood was often tense from Coriolanus stress. 

He tried not to take his frustration out on you but his answers were often short. 

After a long day filled with complaints and issues that could have been easily solved without him, Coriolanus decided that he would not return to his office after supervising drill training and instead remain with you. 

He was beyond tired from his day, but it was too early to suggest bed. You lay with him on the couch, propped up by a throw pillow against the arm of the couch while he lay in front of you. He threw your arm around his shoulder and held it tight under his chin. 

The TV played a music talent show that neither you nor Coriolanus could care about but the tv only picked up two channels; the news or the entertainment channel that the Hunger Games were shown on. Coriolanus couldn’t bear to hear any more politics for the day so you watched people dressed in irregular costumes perform ballads out of their range. 

His eyes droop as he fights the upcoming sleep. It was the first time since the fight with Edmund that he got you to sit down. The little he was here you spent avoiding him. For the first few days, he was angry too and avoidance stopped the fight he wanted to have with you. 

But a week had passed and his temper cooled. 

You were with him now. Playing housewife to the Commander. 

He felt better now that he was coming home to something, rather than just the cold. When he looked in the fridge there was food for him. His clothes were washed and prepared for him. His bed was warm at night. He made him feel less homesick.

The talk from the TV turned from the judges to Lucky the presenter. 

“Now ladies and gentlemen. We have a surprise for you tonight. We have a certain special guest gracing us. And we have given him the power to save one of your favorites from elimination! Mr Augustus Bloom won’t you please come out!” 

Coriolanus shot up from your hold to watch him. 

Augustus Bloom walked on screen wearing an expensive suit. His brown hair was slicked back and a small gold earring dangled from his ear. 

The crowd cheered for him. 

Coriolanus was stuck in District 12 dealing with half-wits and scum, while Augustus was charming the Capitol on live tv. 

He shakes hands with Lucky. 

“Mr. Bloom, a privilege to have you here tonight!” 

“A privilege to be here amongst you and away from my office.”

Lucky turns to the crowd and laughs. 

“Look at you. You good-looking man! You should be out on the town, breaking hearts!” 

Augustus laughs along with the crowd. 

“I am too busy preparing my business for when I am president of Panem. I’ll worry about women after that.” 

Coriolanus clenches his fist. 

“Oh,” Lucky turned serious to the crowd, “I think Coriolanus Snow might have something to say about that!” 

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves giving Coriolanus an air of confidence. 

A picture from his Academy days flashes up on the screen, you look at it with curiosity. He was once a young boy with soft curls, he now sat nearly unrecognizable. 

“He’s looking like a strong contender. Isn’t he handsome ladies!” He points out to the crowd, “And some gentleman.” 

Augustus had the wind knocked out of his sail. He fidgeted on stage and took a step back almost as if he was going to run away. Dr. Gaul's criticism ran through Coriolanus’ head, “a soft-bellied rich boy, not fit for the presidency.” 

Now the whole audience knew it too. 

“Snow isn’t here” he gritted through a smile. He wasn’t going down with a fight. 

“No. He’s in District 12, keeping us here in the Capitol safe. A round of applause for Commander Snow!” 

The crowd cheered causing Coriolanus to smile.

“So am I!” Augustus interrupted like a child. 

“Yes, right. I am sure one day you will!” Lucky claps him on the back and returns to the audience with an excited demeanor. 

“But of course, that’s a while yet! We are wishing our President Ravenstill all the good health in the world. Now let’s get on with the show!” 

Coriolanus switches the TV off and rests his arms on his knees. He couldn’t help but smile at Augustus' national failure. He made Coriolanus look so strong, so mysterious, and focused. He would send Lucky a fruit basket in thanks tomorrow. He would also send one to Augustus. 

“You had curls.” The young boyish figure had shocked you. 

“Yes,” he pats your knee affectionately, “When we are back in the Capitol and I am president of Panem, I’ll grow them back again.” 

==================

Coriolanus has the nightmare that night. He woke up with the tune of ‘Hanging Tree’ stuck in his head. The first thing he does is reach out to where you should have been lying only to find the space cold. Panic rushes through him. His feet thump against the floorboards as he runs from the room into the hall. Your sleeping body can be seen on the couch and he instantly relaxes. 

His body tells him he should be angry; fists clenched, shoulders up and tense, his face hot. But he couldn’t manage it. His mind was too hazy to comprehend anything but his own panic. 

Instead, he sits down on the floor beside you and tries to control his breathing. The tune hums in the back of his mind and he tries to force it out. 

“You had the nightmare again?” Your voice halts the tune. He looks over his shoulder at you with wide eyes. You finally saw the resemblance between the schoolboy with the curls. 

He gets up and pushes himself on the couch next to you. You feel his hands slide up your back, trying to hold you close but you wiggle free from his grasp. 

You would not comfort the man who kidnapped you. 

He tried to bring you back down to his chest as you crawl over him but his tired state left room for error. 

You tumble down to the floor as you escape. 

He sighs disappointed, bringing his hands up to his face. 

“Was there something wrong with the bed?” he asks. 

“I prefer the couch.” You sit on the ground next to him. 

“You prefer the bed built by Edmund.” He spat his name like it was poison. 

You look up at him warily, “I never told you that Edmund built my bed.” 

Coriolanus is silent for a minute, he sucks his teeth and sits up. 

“You didn’t have to. The wood from your door and bed match.’’

He feels settled as you sit by his feet. The panic subsides, but his anger bubbles up from it. 

“Can you make me a cup of tea?” he asks. 

With him on your bed, you couldn’t go back to sleep anyway so you rose and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. 

He watches you while sitting on the couch. He liked how you moved so comfortably in the space. You were treating it like your home. No hesitation about where things were, you used things liberally.

“What do you dream?” You ask him. 

“When I wake up it’s gone,” he lies. 

You know he carries it around with him.

“Whatever it is, it scares you.” 

The kettle whistles and you pour it over the tea bag. 

He worried that he now looks weak in front of you. The man who was supposed to be protecting you was scared of a dream like a child. He could continue with his lie but you already knew. 

Instead he tries a half-truth. 

“I dream that I am killed like my father was.” 

This peaked your interest causing him to sit up straighter under your attention. 

“How did he die?”. 

He takes the cup from you but you don’t scurry away like you usually do. You stand in front of him eager to listen to him. The attention moved his mouth, 

“Here. In District 12. A trap out in the forest during the war. He was a governor”. 

“Is that why you wanted to come back?” 

“I didn’t want to come back” he admits. He reaches up with his spare hand to lightly touch yours, “But I am glad I did.” 

“What did you do?” you feel his thumb brush over the back of your hand, “I mean, to get you sent here?” 

He takes a sip of his tea before answering, “I had an enemy in the Capitol. He disliked my father and took it out on my family”. 

“He sent you back as Commander?” 

“No. He died. Gaul sent me back for my presidential run. It looks better to be serving my country.”

You tear your hand from him, “And when they find out you brought me back to the Capitol. How will that look?” 

He places the cup on the floor and stands up to your height.

“I’ll keep you safe, okay?” he presses his forehead against yours, “In the district and in the Capitol”. 

“Safe from danger you put me in.”

Coriolanus shakes his head as you pull away from him. “You’re safe. You’ve always been safe.” 

He tried to pull you close again but you stretched out your arms to keep him at distance.  

“I wanna go home, Coriolanus.”

“Home to Edmund, perhaps?” he bites. His calm and soft features harden. 

A shiver shoots up your spine at the mention of Edmund. 

“Home to my family. The same as you.” 

He sighs, “You won’t be alone in the Capitol as you are here. You just have to put up with it just a little bit longer. We’ll be back home soon”

The Capitol was not your home nor would it ever be. 

But you knew anymore talk of home would lead to more talk of Edmund. 

“Come on. Let’s go back to bed.” You rip your elbow from his grasp as he walks past you. 

“I’m fine on the couch.” 

He rubs a hand over his mouth before bending down and picking up his tea cup. He splashes the remains on the couch and hands you the empty cup. 

“Enjoy it then.” 

—————-

The next day he comes home around lunch time. It catches you by surprise. 

“Come on,” he says, nodding his head backwards. 

You follow him without a word to the van below where officials stood around. Upon seeing him they take their place. You see Smiley by the passenger side door and he calls out for his Commander. 

Coriolanus tell Smiley to take the seat and climbs in the tray of the truck. 

He pulls you up into the van amongst the Peacekeepers. He sits on the end of the bench with you between his legs on the floor. Like a seatbelt he keeps you in place by taking a hold on your upper arms and pulling them back up on his knees. 

You can feel the glances of his officers but they look away as soon as you try to meet their eyes. 

Halfway they try to break the tension with idle chatter. 

“Will the recruits be as bad as last year?” 

“That’s couldn’t be possible.” 

The talk soon turns to anecdotes about their youthful days as Peacekeeper grunts. 

None of them try to include Coriolanus in their jests. They all willfully ignored the couple on the end. 

You don’t try to talk to him either. 

As you pass through the district the people look at the Peacekeeper van causing you to turn your head in embarrassment. You could still feel the harsh judgements from your community as you sat between the Commander's legs. How would you ever rebuild your reputation? 

The van stops in front of the tunnel to the train station. The people part in the crowd to let the van through. 

Coriolanus releases you to unhook the bolts from the backn of the truck. None of the other Peacekeepers move until he does. He jumps down from the bed of the truck and turns back around to help you down. They all wait until you are down and out of the way before they follow. 

It’s busy, too busy for a normal docking of fresh recruits. All of the road and tunnel leading to the train station were overrun by bodies. 

 District people flood the space, all chatting loudly in a panic. They part as the line of Peacekeepers march through. 

Normally on orientation day, the newcomers to District 12 were given a wide berth. People had better things to do then get a glimpse of the faces that would soon be terrorizing them. 

You wondered what peaked their excitement today. What had Coriolanus done that both you and the district people had to see?

Coriolanus drags you down the dark tunnel into the light of the train station. The talk quitened but didn’t stop altogether. 

You screamed upon seeing the commotion. 

Edmund. 

He was badly beaten and tied to a sturdy metal pole that kept the roof up. A bulls-eye was spray painted an inch above his head.

Blood soaked his face to the point you almost didn’t recognize him. 

Large black bruises covered his exposed skin.

You turn to Coriolanus who was already looking at you and beg him to release Edmund. 

“Please, Coriolanus. Let him go.”

“He threw the first punch.”

You knew it had less to do with causing Coriolanus physical harm than it did with damaging his ego and need for control. Your neighbors were shown that the Commander bleeds like any other man. 

“He learnt his lesson.” you promise. 

“Have you learnt yours?”

Only ten young boys disembark from the train.  They were all thin with a badly-shaved buzzcut and carrying a Capitol issued duffle bag. 

You wanted to run over to Edmund. Protect him somehow. But you couldn’t, it was your protection that got him here in the first place. 

“Gentlemen, welcome to District 12.” 

Coriolanus stood by your side while another officer went in front of the line of boys. 

“This is Edmund Flare,” he gestures to Edmund at the post, “A known rebel sympathizer, and a troubled citizen of District 12.”

Another Peacekeeper runs over and passes the man a gun. You grab Coriolanus' arm in protest. 

“More likely than not, you will have to shoot Edmund one day in service of your country. We figured today we would give you the opportunity to save yourself the trouble in the future.”   

The first young boy is given the gun. 

“You get one shot before you have to wait for that day to naturally come.’’

Edmund holds his head up high to show he is not afraid. But you were. You were terrified. A strong urge to go over and rip the gun out of the young boys hands presented itself but you knew you would be pulled back before you could even stand close enough to touch him, 

The boy checks the gun for the trigger, earning a laugh from everyone but you and Coriolanus. 

Eventually he finds it, and he takes aim. 

The shot misses by a mile. 

“Coriolanus please.” He remains emotionless, watching the scene before him. He stood as if it was a street performance, hands clasped behind his back and perfect posture to get a good view.

“Wait! Wait!” you call out but the men continue. Another boy steps up and takes the gun. 

He takes less time to examine the gun before firing a shot. Edmund flinches as it wizzes past his shoulder. 

‘‘Coriolanus! Stop this. Just please stop, untie hi-”

The next shot is fired causing you to spin around to ensure that Edmund was still standing. He was tall and stupidly proud. 

“I’ll never forgive you if one of them hurt him!” you threaten but it doesn’t even earn you a glance. 

“Do you love him?”

“No” you answered firmly and fast, “No, Coriolanus. Please stop.” 

Another shot is taken. 

“Because if you loved him now would be the time to tell me, because I would hate to break apart lovers.”

The third shot lands next to Edmunds boot. You felt physically sick watching the scene. Your legs shook and would soon give way. 

The men start to whoop and cheer the young recruits on. It gives the next young boy confidence to take a step closer to take his shot but it misses all the same.  

You can’t tear your eyes off Edmund as the next recruit takes aim. They look each other in the eyes. Never spoken a word and already enemies. 

The shot is taken but wizzes past Edmunds head.

You shake your head no. You knew telling him that you loved Edmund would sign his death certificate. 

“He’s my brother's friend, Coriolanus. We grew up together.”

The next shot hit the pole but not the target, causing you to yelp. 

Loud cheering snapped you out of your daze. Begging would get you nowhere. 

Instead you take his shoulders into your arms and turn him towards you.

“He looked after me before you. I would have been dead long before you got to me if it wasn’t for him”. 

Coriolanus throws his eyes back to Edmund which was not the desired effect. 

You change positions, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his attention back down to you.

“I didn’t tell him that you’d taken his role. The other night he was just trying to protect me as you would’ve.” 

He finally looks down at you.

“Please, don’t kill him, Coriolanus. I could never forgive myself.” Your voice begins to shake. You were so nervous for Edmunds safety. Your knees buckled and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. 

He takes the side of your face into his hands. 

“Do you love him?” 

You shake your head feverishly, “No, Coriolanus.” 

“Do you love him?” You feel his fingers tighten on your face. 

“Yes.” you admit. 

“Do you love me?”

Through gritted teeth a ‘yes’ resounds. 

“More than him?” 

A shot whizzed into the crowd as the new recruit lost control of the gun and Coriolanus pulled his body over yours. 

The officers scold the boy. Taking the waving  gun away. The shot landed into the train station wall but it was a close call for those standing in front of it.

He removes your arms from him and you watch him walk over to the officer holding the gun. 

He takes it and aims at Edmund who stood straight and tall. 

You shrink as the gun fires. Unable to look, you cover your face with your hands. 

The cheering made no impact on your confidence. You couldn’t hear Edmund from their excitement. So you reluctantly open your eyes to see him still standing. 

The bullet had made it straight to the middle of the painted target. 

Coriolanus stood taking aim still, as if he was still considering firing another shot. 

Edmund stared back, almost daring him. 

“Commander.” you call. You don’t call him by his name, not in front of people. 

Coriolanus lowers the gun but keeps his eyes on Edmund as he speaks, 

“Load them up and head back to the compound.” he passes the gun to the closest officer and turns back to where you stood. 

“Cut him loose.” he calls back. 

When he tosses his arm around you and pulls you back to the truck, you turn back to see Edmund surrounded by Peacekeepers. 

People mummer as you walk past but your ears buzzed too loudly to hear a word. 

You felt so weak as you walked. You thought you were going to collapse before you could make it to the van. But with Coriolanus’s strong hold on you, you made it back. 

He climbs in first and reaches down to pull you up. He sits you on his knee instead of on the ground and you watch as the peacekeepers, old and new, return to the truck. 

You don’t even have it in you to feel embarrassed as eyes locked into you. 

No one said anything to Coriolanus on the way back. 

As soon as the truck opens back in the compound, you are the first to jump out. You hear Coriolanus footsteps as he followed you back to the apartment.

You immediately take a seat at the kitchen table and Coriolanus gets you a cup of water. You stare at it in front of you. 

“Edmund died today, as far as you are concerned.” 

Closing your eyes to the image of him, you nod your head. 

He could hear Coriolanus moving around the apartment but you couldn’t care what he was doing. 

When he slams something down in front of you, you open your eyes to see a piece of paper and a pen. 

“I want you to write to your brother and tell him about us.” 

You couldn’t. Your brother was hot headed, and powerless. He would cause only problems for himself trying to get back. 

“What would be the point? He is over in District 8.”

“My family are in the Capitol, yet they know about you.”

Shock strikes you knowing that his family knew of Coriolanus’s actions. 

“Write to him,” he pushes, “tell him that we are together. How you feel.” 

You pen a half-hearted letter about how you met a man. Coriolanus, you called him, Not Commander Snow. You tell him how you miss him, and that your mother is okay. That Coriolanus is ensuring that your basic needs are met. Don’t worry, you tell him, you’re perfectly safe.

Coriolanus reads it after you are done before folding it and placing it in his pocket. 

He slides another piece of paper over in front of you. 

“Now write to Tigris and my grandmother. Tigris suggested it would make you feel better, already knowing someone in the Capitol.”

You pick up the pen and write again, but your mind remains on the image of Edmund being used as target practice. You make yourself a promise that you would never meet his cousin or his grandmother. Their letters are as close as they will get before you could escape.

—------

Coriolanus amped up his work schedule even more. Eager to break free from his responsibilities and solve the mystery of Lucy Gray. 

You were left alone at night which was preferable to his company but you felt yourself going crazy with only your own company. 

You tried to keep a routine to fill the day. It was mostly taken up by cleaning tasks. 

After dinner you would wash and dry the dishes, wipe the countertops and table and sweep and mop the floor. Then you would retire to the living room with your sewing or polishing work until it was time for bed. 

There is a quiet tapping on the window disturbing you from securing the buttons on Coriolanus’s shirt. 

No fear ran through you wondering who it could be. They couldn’t get in to harm you anyway. So you peer out from the window. 

“Edmund” you gasp. 

His left eye was blackened, a large bruise formed around the bloodshot vessels. A purple bruise marked his cheek and there was a cut on his right eyebrow. 

“How did you get in?”

He hold a pair of wire cutters up to the window. 

“Are you okay? God I was so worried about you.”

“Ah,” Edmund smiles and replaces the wire cutters with a small knife from his pocket, “Takes more than that.” 

“What are you doing?” you hiss. If Coriolanus found him, there was no way Edmund would escape death a second time. 

“Getting you out of here.” 

“You can’t be here. He’ll be home soon.”

“I know. I’ve been here every night since i’ve been well enough.  I told you, you’re not alone.”

“The Peacekeepers-’’

“There’s a fifteen minute window where this section is blind.” The lock wiggles but resists being opened under pressure, “And he just entered the infantry to wish our poor peacekeepers a speedy recovery. We have time.” 

The door was determined to chew most of it up, however. 

“Edmund, what did he do to you?” his face was swollen from the bruising, and you could see large black and purple spots peeking out from under his shirt. 

“The day after he took you, he sent Peacekeepers to my home. They took me back to the compound and showed me some ‘hospitality’”. 

“Edmund,I am so sorry,” you begin to cry, “I never should have taken the oat bars to the jail.” 

You remembered the day at the market that set off the chain of events. 

You remember seeing the man, he stood out amongst the crowd. Dirty, torn clothes. An arm missing, no doubt from the district's mining work. There wasn’t much work for men outside of it. 

A sense of pity overwhelmed you, so when he swiped a loaf of bread off the table, you looked the other way. Unfortunately a watchful Peacekeeper did not. 

The man's plea echoed through your mind as he was taken away; “Please, I am so hungry.” 

It led you to making the oat bars not only for him, but for all the others punished for their hunger. 

You remembered a rumor that there was a hole at the west end of the jail for the Peacekeepers to sneak out from, and women of the night to sneak in. You were surprised to find out it was actually true. 

“This is not your fault, okay. I am going to get you outta here, and we’ll go to the mountains okay? Where it’s safe. Like planned.”

You nod your head. 

The door jingles as Edmund tries to force it open with his knife. It doesn’t bulge.

“Edmund, my mother, is she okay?”

“She’s okay. She’s already up the mountains.”

“How? She could barely walk?”

“I carried her.” 

The guilt came crashing down on you. Edmund had his own family to look after. They wouldn’t survive without him. 

“Edmund. Stop. I can get the key,” you weren’t sure if you actually could, “You need to go. Just tell me where you cut the hole.” 

He stops trying to wedge the door with the knife so you could hear him clearly. 

“There’s three big bins out by the back,” he points to the direction, “I cut a hole behind the middle one. It’ll take you to the south forest. I’ll wait there.” 

“No,” you interject, “No. Wait for me in the mountains.” 

He rolls his eyes and picks up his work of jamming his knife in the door. 

“You’ll never make it up the mountain by yourself.” 

“At home then! Just stay away from here.” 

The plea was for both you and him. 

“You can get the key and get out?” He asks in a serious tone, looking at you once more. 

“Yes.” you confirm. 

He sighs as he pockets his knife, “When?” 

The Commander kept his keys by the night stand. You think you could remember which one opened the door. 

“Soon.” 

“A week. I’ll give you a week before I come back with something stronger.” 

You nod your head in agreement.

“Thank you, Edmund.” 

“You’re my girl.” he remarks as it was an obvious motivation for his work. 

You shiver at his words. 

————

You don’t sleep well at night so you have taken to having naps while Coriolanus is at work. He is home more often now. He had got ahead of a considerable amount of work which meant nights were spent together. 

Most nights he would take you walking around the compound for fresh air after dinner. You tried to memorize the key he used to unlock the door but there were so many that all looked the same. You wondered how he even knew.

He is anxious now that he found out you were sleeping in the living room and has taken to chaining you together as you slept. He cuffed one of his wrists and one of yours, making sleep impossible as he basically slept on top of you now. 

It was only three days after Edmunds promise, that you woke from your nap with the sight of Coriolanus packing your clothes into a bag. 

“What are you doing?” you ask. 

Was he moving you to your own apartment? 

He drops the bag and comes over to sit next to you on the bed. 

“Hey,” he greets “You need to get up now. We are going to go away for the weekend.”

You sit up away from him, “Where are we going?”

Vacations were not a thing in District 12. 

“The Capitol?” you guessed. 

“No, not the Capitol.” 

You sigh in relief. Still he had not answered your question. 

“Where then?” 

He gets up from the bed and zips the bag up. 

“Do you not trust me?”

You get up from the bed to see he had laid a dress on the end of the bed for you. 

‘‘I just want to know where we are going.” 

“You took me to a special place, and now I want to take you somewhere, okay?”

Throwing the duffle bag filled with spare clothes for you and him, over his shoulder he exits the room. 

You change and his way out to the living room. There would be no point in fighting. You were going to find out where he was taking you at some point. 

The living room was empty, but the door swung wide. 

With the door being left open for you, you took the stairs down to where Coriolanus was loading the back of a patrolling truck. 

You saw a small cooler of food, one of the old pans, bedding and pillows, a small bag of toiletries and the clothes bag. He had packed in a hurry. The bags were thrown in without care. They were far apart from each other and more items than not were upside down.

“We’re not coming back?” you ask. 

“We’ll stay a night or two.” Or however long it takes to find Lucy Gray’s body.

He holds open the door and you follow his silent command to get in. You spot the rifle tucked between the seat and the console. It makes you rethink your decision of complacency. 

“My special place didn’t need a gun.”

He takes your arm and gently pushes you forward into the car, but you tug back against him. 

“It’s nothing. Just a precaution.” 

He gently pushes you again to move. 

“Get in.” he barks. 

“No.”

He takes a harsh grip this time on your arm and leads you back to the cage where Peacekeepers kept people who disturbed the peace.

He pushed you into the small space amongst the bags. 

It was big enough that you could sit with your back against the wall but it would only leave an inch of space between your head and the roof. The back was caged in so the rebels couldn’t reach the officers in front, and the length was long enough to fit three or four rebels at one time. Albeit a tad uncomfortably. 

You bang on the metal divide as he slams the door shut and begins to drive. 

“Coriolanus, you don’t have to do this. I could just go home.” 

He drives through the middle of the district to the out of bounds forest, where Peacekeepers were waiting armed and ready by the electric fence line. They buzz the parting gate open and seal it shut again once the car passes. 

Past the gate, it was just you and him. What would he want to take you to a secluded forest for. A million reasons run through your mind and they all end with you dead. 

“How are you doing back there?” he calls from the front. The car as it powers through the harsh conditions almost drowns him out. 

“Where are you taking me?” you demand to know, “What’s out past the boundary line that you set up?”

Was he hiding something out there? Was that the reason he set up the fence? Not to keep people contained but to hide something. 

“There’s a cabin I know of. There’s a lake too. I think you’ll like it.”

You watch from the front window, looking out for landmarks that could lead you back home. The dark clouds that roll fourth threaten to destroy anything you can remember. 

The path to the cabin is ingrained in his mind since he walked back a different man. He weaved through the gaps in the forest without looking at his father’s compass. 

“Did Lucy Gray like it?” 

He ignores your comment and you don’t speak again. 

—---

When you reach the cabin it is old and run down. Vines cover the walls of the house, patching up the rotten wood. 

Coriolanus seemed nervous to be there. His hand flexes as it reaches for you.

The door had been sealed shut with moisture and it took three hard shoulder charges from Coriolanus to get it open. He invites you in with a hand on your shoulder, shutting the door behind you before retaking your hand in his.

You could smell the dust as you stood in the small living room. The cabin was small and colorless. Mostly everything was made from wood. From the small kitchen table and chairs to the bed you could see in the adjacent room. The only thing that was metal was an old fire stove, and a few decorative pieces.  

Leaves had blown in from holes in the roof scattering the floor. The place looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. You would have thought the place was abandoned since its creation if there weren’t bags upon the floor. Despite its appearance, someone had been here before you and Coriolanus. 

He lets go of you to rush over to the bags. He unzips one and pulls out a colorful dress. The way he lets out a laughy breath sends shivers down your spine. 

“Lucy Gray’s?” you ask but you already know the answer. He had taken her here to kill her, maybe under the guise of running away together, and now he has taken you here to kill you. 

Coriolanus shrugs as if he doesn’t know and shoves the dress back in the bag. 

“Whoever it belongs to is long gone.” 

He continues to look through the bags for anything missing while you glance at the door. 

You think about making a run for it. Surely you would have a better chance in the forest then against him. You feel your feet slowly turning in the direction of the door when his speaking interrupts you. 

“I’ll take this junk outside.” he gathers the bags, slinging one over his shoulder and carrying the other two in his hands. 

You don’t speak as he comes over to you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, noticing your uptight demeanor. 

“Fine. You?” Was he being driven to a quiet rage with thoughts of Lucy Gray?

“Perfect.”

He places a quick kiss to your lips before carrying the bags outside. 

You look at the gun on the floor. If you ran now while he was busy outside it would give you a head start. Surely he would need to come back to get the gun before chasing you. He couldn’t do it with his bare hands. 

You could feel his hands around your throat and knew he could. 

You bolt through the door and down the old steps but run into him as he comes back up. 

He had only taken to throwing the old bags by the side of the house, planning to sink them alongside of the guns in the lake at a later point. 

“Whoa” he stops you with his hands, “Where are you going?”

“The bags. To get the bags out of the car.” 

He looks out to the forest as if he had heard something. 

“Get back inside. I’ll get them.” 

You watch him from the window bring the items in. He was cautious and kept glancing at the forest. 

You did not want to end up a ghost among the forest with Lucy Gray. You wanted to live. To go up to the mountains with Edmund and be shielded in his arms. 

As Coriolanus finished his second trip with the bags, he used an old chair still there and pinned it under the door handle to prevent it from opening. 

You promised yourself that you would make it to the mountains. Coriolanus would not kill you and bury your body next to Lucy Gray. 

You felt as if you were in the Hunger Games.

You were going to be the victor.

Coriolanus looked unbothered by these thoughts as he tried to light a fire in the old stove. 

He gets it going and as he puts his matches back in, he notices you still in a tense form. 

“It’s only for tonight. We’ll go home tomorrow afternoon.”

“Will we?” you spat. “Why are we here anyway?” 

‘To kill me. Say it, you coward’, you thought. 

“It’s quiet,’’ he suggests, “Some place quiet where we can be alone.”

“Is this where you took Lucy Gray?”

He slams a pan down on top of the hot surface. 

“I didn’t know Lucy Gray. I’ve told you.”  He opens a pack of sausages and throws them down without care before tossing the leftover garlic potatoes you cooked the night before in as well. 

“Did you bury her out here?” you push. 

He ignores you. Pushing around a sausage with the knife he used to cut open the packet. 

“Are you going to bury me out here?”

“I have never hurt you.”

“You starved me, hit me, nearly killed my mother. You call that not hurting me?” 

You felt your blood boiling. It was one thing to make your life a living hell, it was another to deny he did it. 

He drops the knife and turns to face you. 

“Have you starved under me? Has your mother?” he hits his chest with his next words, “You eat because of me. You sleep in a bed that I paid for. I provide for you. Me.” 

He stalks towards you causing you to stumble back. You hit a wall but feel a rusted piece of metal under your fingertips. You grab it from the desk but keep it low from his sight. 

“Everything has happened to you because you strayed, and you want me to apologize for it?”

“I want you to admit to what you did.” What you are about to do, so I don’t feel guilty. 

He grabs hold of the bar and pulls it from you. 

“I did not kill Lucy Gray,” he said earnestly. But he wished he had. 

He throws the rusted object across the room and it lands with a heavy clang. 

“And I am not going to kill you. You don’t think you’ve done enough already to get yourself hanged? I protected you from that. Not Edmund.”

Your breath hitches as you hear his name. 

The smell of burning and sounds of angry popping infiltrates the room. Coriolanus leaves you to deal with it. The sausages were charred on one side but raw on the other. After a quick flip, Coriolanus returned his attention to you. 

“Sit on the ground, by my boots.’’

You eye your weapon on the other side of the room but he was stronger, faster, you would never get it and wield it in time. Night time would be the best chance of escape. The cabin had no lock on it, and you were sure you could make it to the mountains from here. But first you had to get Coriolanus off his guard. He still carried his cuffs with him. Escape would be impossible if you were locked in place. 

So you sit on the ground and wrap yourself around his leg as he cooks. 

He liked the feeling of you anchoring him. It made him feel secure. 

He cooks in silence, tossing the items in the pan so they wouldn’t burn. Cutting a sausage in half, he could see it was done, but he had forgotten plates. 

Instead he takes the pan off the stove and carefully sits down across from you on the floor. The pan sizzles as it is placed between you on the floor. It didn’t matter if it burnt the wooden floor. The cabin was so run down, it hardly made a difference. Coriolanus pokes a potato with his knife and brings it up to you. 

He wouldn’t give you the knife after the pipe incident. You bite the hot potato off and Coriolanus had his turn. 

You could tell the rocky temper was still floating around in him. He had calmed but his face still spoke of his annoyance. His necklace overlaid his shirt, your ring called out to you. 

“Give me your dog tag.”

“What?” he responds. 

“If you’re not going to kill me, then let me wear your necklace. I’ll give it back at the compound, but if you do kill me, you’ll be forced to wear your guilt around your neck.”

You wanted your ring back before you left him forever. 

“I am not going to kill you.” he sighs, taking a bite of sausage. 

“Then give me the necklace.”

You hold your hand out for it, which Coriolanus eyes. 

Dropping the knife into the pan, he maneuvers the tag of his neck, bypassing your hand and dropping it over your head. 

You felt the ring scratch you as it landed. 

“Happy now? Will you stop acting crazy?”

You hold the pendants in your hand and nod in agreement

. 

The rest of the night was uneventful. He sets up lamps as it darkens and teaches you a card game. You lost every round, even the ones he tried to let you win. It was a strategy game and you didn’t have the head for it.

The game only lasted an hour before you were helping Coriolanus set up the bed. He had brought along air beds from the Capitol that inflated and deflated by a push of a button. He pushes them together and you made a bed out of the queen sized bedwear from the apartment. 

As he went to sleep with you wrapped safely in his arm, he thought about how he was going to get you to stay inside while he went searching the woods.

He couldn’t tell you what he was looking for or who he was looking for. Nor could he take you with him under the guise of a leisurely walk. If Lucy Gray was out there he didn’t want you anywhere near her. He knew there were four more other cabins in these woods. Just because she hadn’t come back for her mother’s dress, didn’t mean she wasn’t out there. If anything, if she was alive it would be the last place she went back to. She was smart, she would have known that Coriolanus would one day come back to find the mystery of Lucy Gray. She was probably trying to throw him off her scent. 

You wiggle, pulling the blanket higher over you and it brings his attention closer to home.

Maybe he could lock you in the back of the car while he searched. 

He decided he was going to do something nice for you after this. For putting you through it all. Get your measurements and commission Tigris for a new dress, perhaps. Or buy you a necklace of your own. 

 Maybe both. He had the money for it for the first time in his life. And he did owe you an apology and a thank you for being here with him tonight. 

He could see how scared you were thinking that your protector was turning against you. After yesterday, he perhaps should have waited a day or two before taking you away. He at least  should have been more gentle in the approach, so you didn’t think he would harm you for his anger towards Edmund. 

Coriolanus understood him in a way that saved him from being shot. He was just looking out for you, the same way Coriolanus would have. He and Edmund both wanted to take care of you but your heart only had place for one. And that spot rightfully, and wholly belonged to Coriolanus Snow. Edmund did his job of keeping you alive for Coriolanus and he was rewarded when the bullet went behind him and not into his skull. But now it was Coriolanus’s turn and both Edmund and you needed to learn that. 

Coriolanus mind slowed as you stilled beneath him. 

You will yourself to be still. You count your breaths out to mime sleeping. Coriolanus’s hold on your shoulder falls as he sleeps but you don’t make a move just yet. Half-scared that he would wake when you got up. 

It wasn’t until it started to pour rain that you decided to stop stalling and make a move. 

Carefully you rose, and the chains of his arms fell off you. The rain pelting down covered the sound of the air mattress as you moved off it. 

The rain, as it turns out, was a blessing and not a punishment. 

You had left your boots and dress next to you for easy access. Stripping yourself of your nightdress, you quickly change and tie up your boots. 

Coriolanus had taken to sleeping in his underpants, now that you weren’t in a position to indirectly persuade him to dress in his nightwear. He liked the feeling of skin to skin with you but you beg him to keep his t-shirt on. You hated the feeling of his skin pressed against yours. He obliged. 

Your boots squeak against the old floor boards as you walk across it to the door. Causing you to wince at every step, but you do manage to reach the door without waking him.

You try to gently tug the chair from under the door but it was jammed. Turning back to see him still sleeping, you tug a bit harder, but only the door knob jiggles. You cringe as he moves slightly on his back. You would have a harder time escaping the compound than here. There were no armed guards or sniffing dogs. Just you and him, and you had a head start. You had to pluck up the courage now. 

The chair scraps against the floor but you manage to get it free. 

There is a second where nothing moves or makes sound. You almost think you got away scot-free.

“What are you doing?” You hear his voice and turn to see him sitting up dazed. 

Your answer is the throwing open of the door and running out. You hear him jump up as you do. 

He yanks on his Commander’s pants and boots, leaving the laces untied. 

It was too late by the time he got out you were nowhere to be seen. 

He felt his heart jump from his chest. This couldn’t be happening.  It was just a bad dream that he would wake from. But the icy water pouring down on him told him that it was true. You had betrayed him like Lucy Gray. 

Lucy Gray. What if she was out in the woods where you ran? She was the victor of the hunger games, you were a lost lamb. You wouldn’t stand a chance against her. She would tear you to shreds if she thought she could get back at Coriolanus. 

He thinks about returning to the cabin and retrieving his gun but you were already too far out of reach. 

He yells out for you. 

The rain poured down soaking you to the bone, but covered your tracks as you ran. 

“Y/N!” he screams. You battle the rain as you ran through the forest. Pushing yourself to go faster. 

“Hey, it’s dangerous out here. Lets go back to the cabin. Talk about this.” 

His wild eyes scan the area for any sign of movement. The rain hindered his vision but he could hear the faint sound of branches snapping under your foot. 

“Do you honestly think you can run from me? That I won’t find you?” 

You don’t answer and he screams out some more

“Y/N! Come out now! This isn’t funny!” 

You stumble as your dress caught on a tree, it grazes your arm as you pull, leaving a nasty cut. 

He screams loudly out of frustration. The rain seemed to slow down to a trickle as he did, as if it was also scared.  

“You stupid, little girl” you can hear him as he walks, he was catching up. You couldn’t outrun him so you slowed your pace, focusing your efforts on hiding. 

“When I catch you…” he doesn’t finish his sentence. 

You press yourself against the tree. Your arm stung from the cut and your lungs burned from your efforts. 

“Hey, who do you think will reach your mother first?” he taunts. 

 You knew it wouldn’t be him. She was safe in the mountains and soon you would be too. 

“Y/N. That’s enough.” 

You slink to the next tree and focus on quieting your breathing. His footsteps got louder as he gained ground. 

“Y/N, I said that’s enough!”  He picks up a large tree branch and walks forward with it. 

“You’re going to get lost in the forest. There’s worse things than me out there.” 

He imagined you wandering, lost amongst the trees. Lucy Gray, savage and wild, following you. You wouldn’t see her as a threat when she introduced herself. You were too sweet. You would willingly follow her back to wherever she was hiding and by the time you sense the danger of her, it would be too late. 

He needed to find you. To make sure you were alright. That Lucy Gray hadn’t got her hands on the only pure thing in his life. 

“Look it’s not too late. We can just forget this happened. Go back to the compound.” he offers but you knew it wasn’t true. 

You hold your brother's ring in your hand and make an attempt to move forward. 

You made it to the next tree but hear Coriolanus stop walking. 

With the rain slowing, it was harder not to make a noise. 

A loud banging spooked you as he threw the wood against the tree you were hiding behind. You knew you should have stayed still, he was only testing, but your feet took off before your mind could command them not too. 

He felt better seeing you run off. You ran uninjured and with no one following you. 

He takes off after you, determined not to lose sight again.

Both of you run through the forest and rain. You felt as though he might eat you alive if he caught you, but he was faster. All too soon, you feel hands on your waist, pulling you down. You scream as you sink into the mud, trashing under his weight.

He sits on your thighs and keeps your hands pinned against the dirt floor. 

“What were you thinking?” He spat. You had never seen him look so upset. His face scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, his eyes looked down at you in a crazy panic. 

“How could you be so stupid?” 

You toss under him, screaming at him to release you. 

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” 

You kick your feet in an attempt to buck him off, but he was too heavy. 

“Shut up,” he grabs your jaw and stills it in his direction, “You stupid, stubborn, fool of a girl. What was your plan? Huh? Wander around the forest and hope you make it back to District 12?”

You don’t answer and he tightens his hold. 

“It was foolish. What if something got you in the forest?’’

What if Lucy Gray got you in the forest. 

“Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?” 

“I don’t care,” you cry. 

“You don’t care?” he says, astonished.

He sits back off you and pulls you up by your arms. 

“When you were hungry, I cared.” he pulled you along back to the cabin. 

“When you didn’t have money for rent, I cared.” You wriggle your arm, but his hold was too tight. 

“Clothes for the winter, medicine for your mother. I cared. And what do I get for it?”

You latch yourself onto a tree. It grounds you as he tries to tug you off it. 

“All I ever wanted from you was for you to care.” 

He yanks you off the tree and shoves you forward. 

“You would think after everything, I would be entitled to it.” 

“Coriolanus, please let go of me.” you buck against him. 

He tightens his hold, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground. 

He throws you across the floor as you reenter the cabin, going to get his cuffs from his bag. You scramble away from him as he gets closer but he stands over you, trapping your wrist in the cuff and hooking it around the leg of the oven and then trapping your wrists. 

He stood back over you.

“Look at you,” he spat, “You wouldn’t have lasted the night out there.” 

The cut on your arm bleed down, your hair was tangled with twigs and mud. You looked pitiful. 

“Let me go, Coriolanus. I won’t tell anyone.”

He lowers himself down to the ground, placing his knees either side of you. He places the weight of him on your legs. You hated the feeling, as now you were fully immobilized.

He speaks slowly and dangerously with your face in his hands. 

“If you ever try to leave me again, there will be nothing you could do that would save Edmund”.

Do you understand?” 

You nod, but it seemed to anger him. 

“I asked if you understood,” he yells. 

“Yes. Yes. I understand.” 

“How stupid could you be? So worried about me killing you, you decide to do it yourself.” 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you just wanted him to get off you. His weight was crushing. 

“I doubt you’ve ever thought something useful in your life. Use to everybody else doing it for you.” 

His hands tangle in your hair forcing you to keep still. 

“I’ll do your thinking for you from now on. Your next independent thought, I’ll smash from your skull, understand?” 

“Yes.” you cry. The night proved too much for you. The hope of getting away now crushed under his foot. 

Your chest heaves with sobs. The panic of being a sitting duck waiting to be killed courses through you, it was a choking sensation. 

He takes his wet form off of you and towards the door. 

The night was getting to him too. He felt as if history was repeating itself. Back in the forest with little control.  

He goes to the side of the house where the bags layed and stuffed them with as many heavy rocks as he could find. 

They were heavy as he picked them back up and takes the old boat out to the middle of the lake. The bags sink easily with the rocks, and join the guns at the bottom. His past was officially buried. He now only had the future to look forward to. A future with him as President of Panem, and you by his side. 

He rows the boat back to shore. The rain soaked him again and his shirt clung uncomfortably on his skin. It sticks the cold to his chest and his mind floats back to you inside. You were sure to catch a cold if he didn’t move fast. 

Entering the house, he could see he was correct from the way your body shivered. 

Wiping off the water from his face with his soaked shirt, he goes to his bag and pulls out a fresh shirt for himself. He could still hear you crying as he changed into dry shirt and underpants. 

He takes one of his long sleeve off-duty button ups and a towel he wanted to be used from swimming in the lake and brings them over to you. 

He had brought you a spare change of clothes but after tonight he felt like he needed the extra security and you needed a extra reminder. 

You flinch as he drops down on his knees. 

“I am going to uncuff you so you can change.” 

You sniffle and he takes it as confirmation to move. With your hands unlocked, you battle with Coriolanus over your clothes. He grasps the end of your dress, beginning to hike it up but you push down the fabric. 

“I can-” you manage. 

“I do the thinking for you, remember.” 

You don’t fight as he yanks the wet dress over you, throwing it behind him carelessly. He keeps his eyes as forward as he can as he slides the sleeves up your arms. Only looking down as he does up the buttons. It was oddly gentlemanly and you wonder if he did it for his sake or yours. 

“Stop,” you beg, as you feel his fingers hook over the elastic of your underwear. He doesn’t, going as far as to help you put on a fresh pair. He cuffs you once more to the oven before bringing one of the blankets and pillows back over. 

He lays the blanket over you without a word and props the pillow under your head before returning to makeshift bed. 

He lays on his side away from you, but you gather he doesn’t sleep, as an hour or so later he brings his pillow and blanket and curls up against your side. 

He gets his rest, but you are left in a state of shock that hinders your sleep. 

————-

Early the next morning you woke from the sound of Coriolanus stomping in the kitchen. He was eating beef jerky for breakfast. You wake with the sight of him leaning back against the wood counter, towards you. You try to sit up as much as you can while being tied down. 

Looking at the food, your stomach grumbles. 

“Hungry?” he asks. 

You nod in hope that mercy would be given to you. 

None was.

“Imagine how hungry you would be lost in the woods.”

“I would have made it back.” you contend. 

He strips off another piece as he answers, “You would be dead if I didn’t find you.” 

He throws the packet on the counter. It sits unbalanced on the side. 

“Are we going home?” You saw the bags were neatly packed in a pile and you thought calling the compound ‘home’ might earn you some beef jerky. 

“I have something I have to do. We’ll be back by this afternoon.” 

“What do you have to do?” 

“None of your business.” he snaps. 

The conversation ended as he walks over to the bags and picked up his gun that was resting against them. 

You watch him, dressed down in his white t-shirt and army pants, as he swings his rifle over his shoulder. 

“I’ll be back soon.” he comments, half way out the door. 

He walks through the forest at a slow pace. Careful not to miss the smallest bit of detail. 

Retracing the steps of that day, he makes it to where he was bitten by the snake. 

Time had overtaken the hunting ground. There was now grass where the earth once was.The branches and trees had healed from the damage done. 

He eyes the place where he attempted to shoot Lucy Gray and aims his gun like he did. 

He half-expected to see her in the space waiting for him, but it was just ground again. No clues were left for him to find.

There was no rotten smell overtaking his nose. No scrap of clothing left for him to find, or anything to indicate human life had been moving through the forest. 

He continues to walk through. 

The mockingjays squawk above him. If he was a better shot, he would have taken the time to kill at least some of them. But you would hear the gunfire and panic. 

With no sign of Lucy Gray, he continues his way up to the other cabins. He searches each one but they look untouched and run down. The heat of the sun beats down on him as he makes his way back. It was early afternoon by the time he had satisfied himself that Lucy Gray was nowhere in the woods. She could have made it back to District 12, but it was unlikely. He kept tabs on the Covey for months after he got back. He surely would have known if they were hiding her. She must have gone north like planned. He wondered if she made it, or if her body is now one with the earth. 

Either way, she was gone and Coriolanus could shake her from his memory. 

When he returned back to the cabin, you were busy yanking on your chains. 

He presses the point of the gun into your ankle, pinning it against the floor. You don’t try moving  under threat. He slides the gun slowly up your leg, over your calf, over your knee, inching up to the middle of your thigh under his shirt. You pulled against your chains, but don't verbally acknowledge you were scared. 

“Open your legs wider.” he demands. Instead you squeeze your thighs tighter together. 

He pushes the gun with more force against you. 

“I am in a very good mood. You would hate to ruin that wouldn’t you?” 

Deciding you would, you separate your legs. He nestles himself between you, pulling you closer by your thighs so your legs are past his hips. 

Thankfully the gun settles on the floor.

“I think we should talk about last night.” 

You shake your head no and he gives you a serious look. 

“Every time I give you an inch, you take a mile.” 

“I thought you were going to kill me.” 

“I have been nothing but patient and kind to you.”

You wanted to laugh at him but forced it down. It was not too late for you to end up dead in the forest. 

“I know, Coriolanus. And I am sorry. It’s just no one has ever cared for me like this before”. 

He laughs gently at you, “You’re trying at least.”

“It scared me. But if you give me another chance, I promise I won’t disappoint you.” 

He lays his body down on yours, keeping his weight off you by planking on his elbows. 

“You can have as many chances as it takes.” he promises, softly.

“Just one more.” you return in the same small voice. 

He kisses you as if you had earnestly promised to live up to his expectations. 

But really what you promised is that you would allow yourself one more chance of escape before he made good on his promise to kill your mother and Edmund. If you lead to their death, then you would follow them shortly after. 

---------------------------

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He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)