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antxlss · 1 year

Text

north face jacket

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

summary: while at a party at the boneyard, rafe gives you his jacket. you took it even though you aren’t very fond of him. this led to things you would’ve never imagined.

warnings: suggestive comments

words: 1.2k

a/n: i’ve been inspired by this jacket because rafe looks so hot in it. as always, thank you for reading! if you have any requests, please do not hesitate to reach out! i love you, enjoy!

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my friend sarah begged me all week long to come to this kegger with her today. so i finally caved and decided to go. i’m not much of a party person, but what harm would one kegger do?

i was currently waiting on my porch. sarah, topper (her boyfriend), and rafe (her brother) were coming by to pick me up.

i grew up with sarah so i know rafe. it’s safe to say he’s not my favorite person in the world. he always picked on sarah and i when i would come over. normal asshole older brother things. ever since i’ve gotten older he’s taken a liking in me. flirting with me every chance he gets. i turn him down, obviously. he’s my best friends brother. i couldn’t do that to her. but god is he hot. but i know that’s just something i can’t do, so i ignore his advances.

after about 5 minutes of waiting on the porch topper’s truck pulls up. i step back and crack my front door open and let my parents know i’m leaving.

i walked up to the truck and saw through the windows that topper was driving, obviously. so naturally sarah was in the passenger seat, topper’s hand resting comfortably on her thigh. i opened the back door and there in all his glory sat rafe. i sat down and buckled in. we were off to the boneyard for a fun night.

the ride there wasn’t out of the ordinary, mostly just me and sarah talking out of our asses about whatever we thought of. the boys had their own conversation about how many birdies they’d had at their last golf match.

we finally arrived and the party was already in full swing. pogues, kooks, and tourons alike were all drinking out of red solo cups and dancing to music being blasted out of a single bluetooth speaker. we hopped out of the truck. all four of us standing at the edge of the fun.

“uh, so, what first?” topper asked.

“drinks, duh?” i said in an obvious tone. i made my way to the keg, topper, sarah, and rafe following behind me.

i reached the keg and generously filled my cup with the cheap beer. i downed half my cup before filling it back up. i made my way over to a clear spot where i unrolled a blanket i had packed. i sat down taking off my shoes and digging my feet in the soft sand. sarah, topper, and rafe came and sat down on the blanket as well.

“guys, let’s go dance.” sarah suggested, scrambling to her feet, her cup of beer still in hand.

i jumped to my feet “i’m in.”

sarah looked to topper and held her hand out. he gave her a look. “do i have to?”

she gave him her signature puppy dog eyes and within a second he was on his feet.

we all started heading closer to the group of dancing people when topper suddenly turned around.

“rafe, you coming bro?” he asked.

rafe waved his hand dismissively. “i’m going to get more beer man.”

with that we all continued to the “dance floor.” as soon as i got in the group, i felt all of their energy. i started dancing, downing my beer. grinding on guys i’d never talked to and probably never will. it was so electrifying.

after a few songs, i stepped out of the group to refill my cup when i saw someone staring at me.

rafe.

his eyes were following me as i went to the keg, as i refilled my drink, as i continued dancing. it’s like i could feel his eyes tracing down every curve of my body. he studied the way i moved it to the beat of the music. he watched every hand that accidently grazed me. his eyes bore into any and every guy that grabbed my waist and danced on me.

i watched as he walked back over to the blanket i had laid down earlier. i decided i was gonna say something to him.

i walked up to him, towering over him as he sat on the blanket. “are you done eye-fucking me yet?” i snapped.

“well, not really, i was kinda enjoying myself.” he replied with a smirk.

i plopped down beside him, the alcohol i had consumed catching up to me. “you’re disgusting.”

“i know you like when i say things like that to you.” he remarked.

i rolled my eyes and shivered as a gust of chilly wind blew by. my crop top and shorts weren’t doing me much good.

“are you shivering because you’re nervous from being around me, or are you cold?” rafe asked.

“i’m cold you dipshit.” i sneered.

i felt warm, fuzzy fabric drape over my shoulders. i glared over my shoulder to see rafe holding his north face jacket onto my body.

“what’s with the face, i’m just trying to keep you warm.” he argued.

“stop hitting on me.” i snapped.

“why?” he questioned.

“you know why. i’m your sisters best friend. i’m off limits. plus i don’t like you anyways.”

“whatever, just take the goddamn jacket before you get a cold or some shit.” he ordered.

i slipped my arms through the jacket, taking in the scent of expensive cologne, savoring the warmth “thanks.” i mumbled.

“you look hot in my clothes.” he smirked.

i reached over and smacked him on the arm. “i hate you.”

i know he’s off limits. i know i’m supposed to hate him. but no matter how hard i try, i just can’t. it was probably the alcohol, but before i even know what i’m doing i reach out and i grab his face. i crash his lips on to my own.

the kiss is sweet and passionate. like we’ve both been waiting for this for a long time. i feel his hands drop to my waist. i move mine to wrap behind his neck. i swing my leg over, straddling his legs, sitting in his lap. he finally breaks the kiss for air.

he presses our forheads together. both of us out of breath.

“i knew you liked me.” he teased.

i giggled letting my head drop to his shoulder.

“sarah, come on!” i heard topper yell.

“shit.” i quickly jumped off of rafe and casually sat off to the side of him. sarah and topper were walking up to us.

“guys, we are ready to go.” sarah groaned.

“yeah, okay.” i stumbled over my words, still shaken up about earlier.

rafe and i both got up and i shook out my blanket and folded it up. we all made our way back to topper’s truck. i grabbed rafe’s arm letting sarah and topper get ahead of us. i start taking off his jacket when he stopped me.

“keep it. it looks better on you.” he whispered.

i smiled. “you’re such a dork.”

“meet me in my room tonight” rafe knew i was staying the night with sarah, and i had some ideas of why he wanted me in his room.

“okay.” i replied. i pecked his lips and ran forward to catch up with topper and sarah.

what am i getting myself into?

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bunnywritesjunk · 9 months

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Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗

Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽

Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗

Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.

A helping Hand

Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.

“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.

You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.

You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.

First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.

“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.

“You're back early, how was the mission?”

“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.

You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”

Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.

“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.

“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.

“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.

He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.

“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.

You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.

A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.

“Looking for something?”

You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.

“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.

He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.

“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.

Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”

He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.

“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.

He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.

“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.

Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.

“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.

Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”

He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.

“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”

“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.

You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.

“ I...Simon..." You whined.

“Tell me, Bunny.”

You covered your face muffling your words.

“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”

“Please help me.....through my heat....”

“That's more like it." He purred.

He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.

“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.

Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.

“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.

You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.

“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.

You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.

“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.

He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.

“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.

“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.

“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.

“Cum for me.”

Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.

“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #hybrid reader #bunny reader #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod mwii #ghost mwii #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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iggyinuit · 2 years

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Iggy in Cambridge.

#iggy the eskimo #cambridge #birdie hop

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megalony · 1 month

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Little Bird- Part 2

This is the second part of my Evan Buckley imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this one and I have another part planned.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Evan starts to find himself falling for his new neighbour and her little girl. And he will do anything he can to help them when they need him.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) rolled her lips together and tried to stop the panic from spreading across her face when she cautiously walked through the door into the fire station. She had never been in here before. She had never stepped foot inside any fire station before and it filled her with panic.

What if Evan wasn't here? What if he was out on a call and (Y/n) had to turn around and take Birdie home? What if she wasn't allowed to be here? Evan told her she could come by anytime and he would show Birdie around the station since she had asked so many times. But maybe the Captain wouldn't be so easy-going about friends stopping by. After all, (Y/n) didn't have any kind of emergency.

If Evan wasn't here, (Y/n) wasn't sure she would be allowed to wait around for him to get back. She wouldn't want to impose and wait with strangers. She would rather take Birdie home.

But Birdie was here now, and there was no way the toddler was leaving without seeing Evan first.

A high-pitch squeal left Birdie's lips when she realised where they were and she began clapping her hands. She rocked back and forth in her pushchair until (Y/n) cringed and stopped walking before Birdie tipped herself over.

(Y/n) felt a desireable urge to turn around and rush out before anyone saw them, but when she tilted he head up, a wave of relief and vertigo rushed over her all at once.

Evan was here. He was upstairs, casually leaning over the balcony with his back arched over and a cup of coffee in his hand. The moment his eyes found the source of the squealing, one of the brightest smiles (Y/n) had ever seen washed over his face and he hurried to move.

She swayed back as she tried to keep watching him before she tilted her head forward to stop herself from wobbling.

Moving round, (Y/n) crouched down in front of the pushchair and undid the clasp to let the three year old hop out.

Birdie was off within a second. She stretched her arms out in front of her and bolted as fast as her legs could carry her across to the stairs and she waited at the bottom for Evan to head down to her. Another squeal left her lips when Evan scooped her up and planted her on his hip.

"There's my little bird! Are you okay girlie?" Evan bounced her on his right hip and moved his left hand to cup her neck so he could kiss her cheek.

But he pulled back with a grin when he suddenly realised what she was wearing, more specifically, what she was wearing on her head. She had a miniature yellow helmet that sort of looked like the helmets the team wore when they were out on a call. Of course it was three times smaller than Evan's and it was shaped a little differently, more like a construction hard hat, but it was still similar.

And right across the front, 118 had been painted in dark blue paint in a very neat, cursive handwriting that Evan recognised instantly. He flicked his finger against the hat and tipped it back on Birdie's head so he could see her better and look at that dazzling smile.

"What's this? Are you coming to work with me now, little bird?"

He liked it.

"Yeah," Birdie broke off with a cough and tilted her head down to cough into Evan's chest, almost bashing his chin with her hat. But when she looked back up at him, she grinned and kissed his cheek.

Evan knew she hadn't been at nursery today or yesterday because she had a bad chest infection. She only went to nursery two days a week and this week she was staying at home with (Y/n) because she wasn't well. And she didn't look much better than when Evan saw her yesterday. But she was in a bubbly mood which made him a little calmer.

When Birdie leaned her cheek on Evan's shoulder, he pressed his cheek on top of her helmet and swayed her from side to side while he walked over towards (Y/n). She was moving the pushchair near the lockers so it was tucked up in the corner, away and not at risk of causing any accidents.

He reeled his free arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest so he could kiss the top of her head. "Hi," He murmured quietly into her hair while (Y/n) turned around in his arm and looped her arms loosely around his torso beneath Birdie's legs.

(Y/n) pressed her chin into Evan's chest so she could look up at him and her lips curved into a gentle smile when she looked up at his baby blue eyes.

"We missed you," She mumbled into his chest with a sheepish grin. It wasn't just Birdie who was desperate to come down to the station and see Evan. (Y/n) missed him too. She wanted to curl around him and hear his voice and see him at work just as much as her daughter did.

"That's what I like to hear. Wanna go meet the team?"

With Birdie tucked up into his chest and neck, Evan took the chance to lean down and kiss (Y/n). Birdie seemed to have an instinct to know exactly when Evan was trying to wrap around (Y/n) or kiss her or get close to her because Birdie would suddenly call out for him and find him no matter where he was.

His hand wandered up her back until he was holding the back of her neck and his thumb brushed up and down her skin beneath her hair. (Y/n) shivered at the touch and she could feel herself going lightheaded as her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin.

(Y/n) pecked his cheek when they parted and she reached her hand up to hold his hand that moved to loop around the back of her shoulders instead.

They wandered over to the stairs and climbed up and (Y/n) took her time to look around. She had seen a lot of people downstairs near the gym or wandering the halls, but there were a handful of people up here too.

"Hey Buck, do we have guests today?" Bobby leaned back in his seat at the far end of the table and smiled around the rim of his cup.

"These are my girls, (Y/n) and Birdie." Evan had talked about them often enough for the team to know who they were and what they now meant to Evan. And Hen had found their first meeting so sweet when Evan told her about the girls being stuck on the balcony, she seemed to think it was some sort of lovey-dovey, Romeo and Juliet kind of thing.

(Y/n) brushed her hair behind her ear and sat down when Evan motioned to one of the seats at the table. He stood behind her chair and carefully stood Birdie up on the table with his hands on her waist so she didn't slip or tumble.

"That's my Captain, Bobby."

Birdie tilted her head to the side and smiled. They could all see the wheels turning in her head and (Y/n) knew she was wondering why no one was wearing their helmets yet.

"You drive the wee-woo?" She pointed behind her towards the balcony and Bobby nodded when Evan mumbled "The truck," so he knew what she was referring to.

"I do sometimes, and I'm sure Buck will let you look round the truck if you want."

"Oh, wow, what a cool hat. Have we got a new recruit already?" Chimney leaned across the table and planted his hands down opposite Birdie. She spun round to face him and tilted her head down shyly while she leaned back until her back was resting up against Evan's chest. And she smiled when Evan's arms curled around her middle.

"This is my new partner." Evan gave her helmet a little nudge as if to prove his point and Chimney nodded with a grin.

But when he leaned across the table and playfully swiped the helmet from her head, (Y/n) sat forward and shook her head. She had barely been able to get Birdie to take off the helmet when it was time to go to bed last night and when she knew she was coming here, she wouldn't put it down. Birdie was fiercely protective over her toys and that helmet was her new prized possession.

She seemed to think everyone was going to take it away and steal it from her forever. It didn't matter that she could still see it in front of her, it was no longer on her head.

Her arms stretched out in front of her and her lower lip wobbled as a small, croaky sob left her lips and tears pooled in her eyes.

Birdie tilted her head back onto Evan's shoulder and pointed as another cry bubbled past her lips, breaking off into a cough that made her chest hurt and make her cry even more. She shivered when Evan's arm tightened around her waist and she watched him click his fingers assertively at Chimney.

"Give my girl her helmet back."

Chimney handed it back instantly and Evan placed it back on Birdie's head before he turned her around and lifted her up off the table.

"There we go, it's back you're okay. Come on, let's go look round the wee-woo." Evan kissed her cheek and picked her up, letting her sniff and cough into his neck as she bound her arms around his neck. He smoothed his hand up and down her back but he didn't like how much she was coughing or how badly she was starting to struggle to breathe.

(Y/n) quietly mouthed 'sorry' to Chimney but he shook his hand with a smile. He hadn't realised it would upset her, he shouldn't have pinched her helmet. He made his way over to the sink and when Evan turned around, (Y/n) pushed up from the table to follow. But she stopped when Bobby reached out and gently held her wrist to pull her back.

"You both make him very happy." He murmured softly while his eyes remained on Evan who was already walking down the stairs. Happily telling Birdie about all the features on the truck.

A tender smile lit up (Y/n)'s face even as she shook her head and looked back down at Bobby.

"No, he makes us happy."

(Y/n) followed down the stairs and wandered along with them to the truck. She leaned against the side door, arms folded across her chest and a smile lighting up her face as Evan wandered round the truck, showing Birdie all the compartments and telling her what they stored in each one.

When they moved round to the front of the truck, (Y/n) moved too and she smiled when Evan opened the door and gently lifted Birdie up into the driver's seat. She flopped down on the seat and started to giggle and cough when she couldn't see over the steering wheel which she grabbed and pretended to drive so (Y/n) could take a picture.

Reaching up on her tiptoes, (Y/n) curved her arms around Evan's neck and pressed a kiss just below his jaw which acted as a secret button to make him shiver and turn to jelly.

"Thank you for this." She kissed his jaw again and again until Evan turned his head and captured her with a kiss instead. He wormed his arm around her waist to keep her as close as he could get her but just as Evan went to slide his hand down her back towards the top of her jeans, he stopped.

Birdie was coughing again.

"Alright little bird, come here."

(Y/n) stayed wrapped around Evan as he reached up and lifted Birdie down into his arms. Neither of them liked the way she started to wheeze and her eyes filled with tears again when her chest started to ache and twinge from how badly she was coughing.

She burrowed down into Evan's chest but when she kept coughing, Evan's eyes narrowed. He reached his hand up and gently pulled her lower lip down so he could peer into her mouth.

"Her lips are tinged blue… do you mind if I ask Eddie to take a look at her?" The way Evan frowned was enough to make (Y/n)'s heart race and she nodded, curling her hands around his arm to keep herself upright.

It could be nothing, but Evan had been doing this job for a good few years now and he noticed the signs. He knew if someone's inner lips were blue, it was a sign of lack of oxygen or a worser sign if someone already had an infection. Evan would rather be safe than sorry and ask Eddie to do a quick once-over of Birdie so they knew she was okay and didn't need a trip to the doctor.

And he had to ask (Y/n) first. Evan would never want to step on her toes and do something like that without her permission first.

"Baby, can I put your hat in my locker with mine so it stays safe while we go and look round? I don't wanna lose it." Evan waited for Birdie to nod before he swiped the helmet from her head and stepped to put it on top of his helmet in his locker.

He quickly pressed the back of his hand against Birdie's head, pretending he was brushing her hair back while he checked if her skin was flushed or not. It was.

"Eddie," He moved his free hand to cradle the back of Birdie's head, keeping her tucked up into his neck while he headed over to the locker room with (Y/n) hot on his heels. "This is (Y/n) and Birdie… can you do me a favour and check her over for us?"

"Sure, what's wrong?" Eddie smiled at both girls and nodded his head over at (Y/n). He had heard all about them these past few weeks and it was nice to finally meet the girl Evan was infatuated with.

"She's got a chest infection, she's got worse since yesterday." (Y/n) bit down on her thumb and moved to sit next to Evan when he sat down on the bench in front of the lockers. She moved her free hand to rub up and down Evan's thigh as a calming mechanism while Eddie went to retrieve a medic bag.

He came back in and knelt down in front of them, stethoscope in his ears and a wide, calming smile on his face.

"Hey Birdie, I'm just gonna take a quick look at you, okay?"

"You a fireman?" Birdie nuzzled the left side of her face into Evan's chest and curved both her hands around his left arm that she had cuddled to her front like a teddy.

"I am, I'm a medic too." He pressed the stethoscope against the middle of her chest to listen to her heart before he slipped it between her shoulderblades and listened to her breathing. Her lungs were crackling a little like static on a tv and it wasn't a very good sign. "Do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

Birdie looked up at Evan before she looked back down at Eddie and nodded, grumbling to smother a cough. She burrowed more into Evan and closed her eyes but she quickly opened them when Eddie leaned over and gently lifted up her jumper.

"How long's she had the rash?" His voice made panic bubble up inside Evan while (Y/n) leaned over his shoulder to take a look.

"It wasn't there this morning when I got her dressed." (Y/n) would have noticed a rash. She had bathed Birdie this morning and gotten her dressed and she would have noticed the rash that was spreading across the middle of Birdie's chest and around her sternum.

"This won't hurt, stay still for me." He pressed a thermometer in her ear and when Birdie closed her eyes again, Eddie felt her pulse. "She's lathargic with a high temp and a rash… she could have sepsis. She needs to go to the emergency room, now."

Eddie didn't want to worry either of them but he didn't like the way this looked. Birdie had a temperature, a new rash and as well as feeling sick, she was now looking sluggish and still coughing. If she already had a chest infection, that meant she could be developing sepsis which was serious. She needed to be checked out and put onto high strength antibiotics immediately if she was getting sepsis.

"Go get in the ambulance, I'll tell Bobby what's happening and me and Hen will drive you down."

(Y/n) leaned her head on Evan's shoulder and clenched her hands tightly around her bag on the ride down. She had been in the back of an ambulance more times than she'd like to admit with her heart complications, but she had never had to take Birdie in an ambulance before. The only time she had taken Birdie to the emergency room was when she was two and had fallen and smashed her head on the coffee table before they moved out to LA.

Other than that, Birdie had never had anything serious that needed more than a few trips to the local GP. Being in the back of an ambulance because of her daughter was frightening.

She felt a tiny bit better when Evan kissed the top of her head. He hadn't let go of Birdie. Not once.

He didn't want to sit her on the gurney and panic her so he and (Y/n) sat on the edge of the gurney with Birdie on Evan's lap and Eddie in front of them, keeping a check on her vitals. Hen was driving them down with the lights on but no sirens so they didn't alarm Birdie.

"Alright, let's get you inside."

(Y/n) let Evan gently ease Birdie into her arms and she slung her bag on her shoulder, snuggling her daughter up into her chest to try and keep her settled and as calm as possible. She felt Evan's hands on her hips when they climbed down and Eddie guided them through the paramedic entrance and over to the reception desk.

"I've got a three year old with a high temperature, a rash and an infection that's possibly going septic. What bay do you want her in?" Eddie looked around for bay number three and guided (Y/n) and Evan over to the nurse. "Alright, call if you need anything. Buck, just let me know when you need a ride home." Eddie clapped his hand on Evan's back.

He and Hen would leave them to it and be on standby if they needed anything else and ready for when they needed a ride home. Eddie would guess that Birdie was going to be here for a while at least. But Evan might need a lift back to the station to grab his stuff and his keys so he could pick up some things and come back here.

"Y-you're staying?" (Y/n) turned to look up at Evan with watering eyes that bubbled over when he frowned at her.

Did she really think he was going to leave her here alone? Did she think he was going back to work, not knowing if Birdie was alright or not and knowing (Y/n) was panicking and prone to fainting with an elevated heart rate?

"I'm not leaving you here alone. I cleared it with Bobby, I'm staying."

When (Y/n) leaned her head on his shoulder, Evan wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the cubicle as a nurse and a doctor followed after them. He wasn't going anywhere, Evan was staying here with his girls to make sure they were both alright and check that Birdie got checked out.

"Okay, and who do we have here?" The nurse smiled politely when (Y/n) sat Birdie down in the middle of the bed. She kept her hand on her daughter's back when Birdie swayed like she was going to flop back and fall asleep.

She reeled off Birdie's full name and date of birth, glancing at Evan when she noticed his lips twitch up into a little smirk. He found it so strange to hear anyone- let alone (Y/n)- refer to her as Bernadette. That was the name on all her records, but (Y/n) never once called her that. For all intents and purposes, her name was Birdie.

"And I presume you're mum and dad?"

"Yes." (Y/n) spoke before she lost her nerve or Evan tried to fumble through his words. If they said he wasn't, they might not let him stay in the room. And she knew that Birdie was so attached to Evan that she practically thought he was her dad. In almost every way, Evan had become her dad.

And she felt his hand give her hip a comforting squeeze when she answered. He moulded his chest over her back and pressed his lips against the back of her head, feeling like a comforting blanket wrapping around her.

"Is she allergic to anything?" The nurse glanced up from her notes to take a quick look at Birdie with a tender smile.

"Ibruprofen and naproxen… like me." Evan glanced his eyes down to Birdie with a smile when the toddler leaned her head on (Y/n)'s arm and squirmed around.

Surprise flooded (Y/n)'s face and adrenaline bubbled up in her stomach and pushed through to her chest.

Evan remembered.

He remembered (Y/n) telling him the only two things she had found Birdie to be allergic to. When she gave her ibruprofen, Birdie came out in a horrible rash and started to be sick and the doctor confirmed she had a mild allergy. Her allergy to naproxen was a bit more severe and she had only taken that once at hospital and never again.

It had been a surprise when (Y/n) found out Evan had a very bad allergy to the exact same thing. It just seemed to cement things even more that Evan was now a part of their little family.

"Let's take a look at this little lady, shall we?" The doctor turned around and pulled a pair of latex gloves over her hands before she wheeled a stool over and sat down in front of the bed.

Birdie leaned back into (Y/n)'s chest and started to wriggle and whimper. She was tired and felt sick and her chest was hurting. She didn't want to be poked and prodded, she wanted to go home. Her eyes closed tight and she leaned back further until (Y/n) pressed her middle up against Birdie's back to keep her sitting up. And (Y/n) felt Evan lean further into her like they were dominos all lined up together.

The doctor listened to Birdie's heartbeat and then her lungs just like Eddie had done. And (Y/n) leaned down to kiss her head when the doctor took her blood pressure.

Birdie squirmed and whimpered until Evan leaned his arm around (Y/n) and brushed his finger beneath Birdie's chin and across her cheek to try and calm her down. "Good girl," He hummed quietly when she stayed still and let the doctor finish taking a reading.

"When did she get the rash?" The doctor looked over Birdie's chest before she pulled her jumper back down and smiled softly at her.

"Sometime this afternoon, no more than a few hours ago."

"Okay, I'd like to take some blood then start her on a round of antibiotics immediately. I'd say she does have sepsis."

A shiver coursed down (Y/n)'s spine and she sighed, tilting her head into Evan's neck. She knew what that meant. Birdie was seriously unwell. Sepsis was the body's way of getting confused and attacking healthy tissue instead of fighting the infection. She needed to get antibiotics and clear the infection quick so her body could calm down and stop attacking her healthy cells.

Reaching down, (Y/n) scooped Birdie up and moved round to sit on the bed herself. She sat Birdie down on her lap and snuggled her close to try and keep her calm. She wouldn't be very pleased when she saw them trying to take her blood.

Evan crouched down at the side of the bed and smiled calmly, taking Birdie's hand in his while the doctor gently held out her other arm and rolled up her sleeve.

"I don't wanna-"

"It won't take long, little bird. You're my partner at the station, aren't you? Close your eyes, then we can tell Bobby how brave you are." Evan smoothed his thumb over the back of Birdie's hand and swiped his other hand across her eyes until she closed them.

He hated to see her sat shaking on (Y/n)'s lap, anticipating the pain she was going to feel and she jumped when the numbing spray and cotton swab swiped across her elbow. The moment the needle slipped into the crease of her elbow, she let out a low, broken whine that ended in a grumbling cry.

She began to tremble and smothered her face into (Y/n)'s chest while Evan rubbed the back of her hand and quietly hushed and praised her.

"All done, it's all done baby." (Y/n) hushed as she swayed Birdie from side to side once the needle and vile were removed and a wad of cotton was taped across her elbow. She bounced her knees up and down to try and soothe Birdie. All the way here (Y/n) had watched Eddie try and keep Birdie awake and stop her from falling asleep in case she went unconscious and her state worsened.

But now it would be better if she went to sleep. She had been assessed and if she dozed off, they could give her the antibiotics easier than her fighting and getting distressed like this.

She hated to have her little girl whimpering and bubbling into her shirt and clinging to her like she thought she was never going to see her again.

The doctor came back into the room with an IV of antibiotics and fluids, a tube and a needle and it made (Y/n) wince. Birdie had never had to have a canula in before.

"Once we get her on these, I can sort out getting her admitted into the children's ward."

The moment Birdie lifted her head from (Y/n)'s chest, she started to scream. As much as she could with her burning, wheezing chest, Birdie cried and gasped and screamed until her cheeks puffed out and tears were streaming down her face.

"Baby it's okay-" (Y/n) tilted her head back, willing the tears away when Birdie continued to thrash and cry in her arms. She had found some energy from somewhere. The needle had spooked her. She didn't want another one. She didn't know or care what it was for. Birdie didn't want it.

"No!"

"Birdie I promise it won't hurt-" The doctor frowned and looked up sadly at (Y/n) when Birdie thrashed again, but her next words stunned (Y/n).

"I want daddy!"

She had never said that before.

(Y/n) had been a single mother since the moment she found out she was pregnant. Birdie had never had a father figure in her life. She grew up with (Y/n) and that was it, her sole parent and dependency was on (Y/n). She never asked about a father or why the other kids she knew had dads but she didn't. She never asked about having a dad or why she only had a mum.

But now she had Evan. He was the closest thing to a father figure that Birdie had in her life and she had fallen in love with the idea of him being her dad and being in her life.

(Y/n) looked down at Evan, but the stunned expression she had was mirrored on his face.

He was now stood up beside the bed, hands frozen at his sides as he stared down at the little girl who had captured his heart. His jaw moved and scraped from side to side but he didn't say anything for a second or two. (Y/n) wondered if it was too soon, if Evan wasn't ready for that name and the responsibility that came along with it.

But within a second, he moved. Evan leaned down, his eyes locked with (Y/n)'s, silently asking if it was alright when he reached his hands out towards Birdie.

(Y/n) passed her over without complaint and watched the way Birdie stopped wriggling instantly. She stopped thrashing and kicking and screaming once Evan picked her up. He looped an arm beneath her legs and his other hand rubbed across her back in circles while Birdie looped her arms around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe.

When her face tucked into the crook of his neck, Evan leaned his cheek on top of her head and started to gently rock her up and down.

"It's okay, baby bird. I'm here." He soothed quietly as he kissed her cheek and looked over at the doctor. He silently ticked his head to the side and turned around so he was facing (Y/n) with the doctor behind him. Evan knew Birdie had her eyes closed and her face hidden in his neck and with her arms around his neck, the doctor could stand behind him and quickly sort the IV before she had chance to fight them.

Evan started to hum and tried not to move Birdie too much when he felt the doctor behind him. He stood in between (Y/n)'s thighs and smiled softly when (Y/n) looped her arms low around his hips and pressed her face into his stomach.

A low whine croaked past Birdie's lips when the needle inserted into the back of her hand but she didn't move or pull away.

"You're okay, I've got you."

They both heard the doctor whisper "All sorted," and she patted Evan's shoulder before she left the room to go and get everything sorted. She wanted them on the ward as soon as possible to get Birdie monitored and make sure she didn't get any worse.

When she left the room, (Y/n) slowly stood up, pinned between Evan and the bed pressing into the back of her knees. She looked up at Evan, curving one arm around his waist and her other hand moved to card through Birdie's hair softly.

Evan started to sway from side to side again and kept moving Birdie up and down in his arms. But a quizzical look took over his face when he noticed the tender smile on (Y/n)'s face.

"She's fallen asleep." (Y/n) whispered. That was the quickest (Y/n) had ever known her daughter fall asleep and she was beginning to drool onto Evan's shoulder. Evan didn't realise her arms had gone slack around his neck or that she had stopped whimpering into his neck and changed instead to quiet snuffles and groggy, hitched breaths.

"You uh… you don't mind, what she said?"

"I don't mind my daughter loving you almost as much as I do." (Y/n)'s voice was barely more than a whisper on the wind but they sounded like the loudest, most beautiful thing Evan had ever heard.

He leaned down and stole a kiss from her lips, removing his hand from Birdie's back to wrap it around (Y/n)'s waist instead and reel her as close as he could get her. He could feel her smiling against his lips and he grazed his teeth across her lower lip.

Out of all the nicknames and things Evan had been called over the years, this was definitely the best one he'd ever had.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #imagine #911 imagine #buck imagine #bobby nash

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perlelune · 2 months

Text

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | v. {END}

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: DUB-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A deep breath flows from your lungs as you examine your reflection in the cracked, stained mirror. It’s been in your family for years and you never had the heart to rid yourself of it, despite the object’s sorry state. Like everything in the small house, it harbors a plethora of fond memories.

You arrange a few unruly strands of your hair. Though you immediately feel silly for doing so.

It’s not like he cares what you look like. It never bothered him before. He always seeks you out, even when you are worn and sweaty after working a long day at the factory.

As you tiptoe across the room, your gaze settles on Tilly’s tiny form. Soft breaths lift her chest up and down. She is fast asleep, thankfully. Words are amiss to explain where you’re sneaking off to tonight, who you’re planning on meeting up with…or perhaps there are words for that, some you are too terrified to even fathom. Two young people secretly wandering the streets of District 8 at night to find each other and…

Your cheeks flare with warmth.

This isn’t what Coriolanus is to you. He is your tormentor. That is all. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf in the dark, your stomach threatening to drop to your feet.

One of the moth-eaten, dusty floorboards squeaks below your feet as you reach the exit door and nudge it open.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Startled by your cousin’s drowsy voice, you turn around so fast that your head spins. She blinks at you curiously as she sits up in her bed. A heavy sigh peals from your lips. Smiling from ear to ear, you approach her.

You hunker down in front of her.

“I am. You’re not, sweetie.”

“Where?”

Your stomach coils. Still, your smile remains intact.

“Just gotta run an errand quickly,” you lie while cupping her cheek. “We’re running out of your medicine. We have to make sure you stay healthy past the winter.”

She yawns and glances at the twinkling stars through the window.

“But it’s so late.”

Excuses dwindle in your head. You retreat to the authoritative older sibling tone you sometimes use to get your cousin to do her chores.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

You tuck Tilly back into bed. Arranging the blanket over her gingerly, you drop a soft kiss on her forehead.

Your cousin nods and curls herself beneath her blanket. Relief swells within you. She is too little to hear about the purpose of your nightly trip. In fact, you plan on her never knowing a thing about it. With luck, all of it will end tonight. You’ll bow to the peacekeeper’s demands. One last time. Then you’ll bury the awful memory in the furthest, deepest recesses of your mind and never look back.

It’s what you hope will happen.

Cool winds skate across your skin when you step outside. The moon trails your quiet, anxious trek through the alleys of District 8, its silver beams lighting the cobblestoned path. Every time your feet hit the ground, the nervousness in the pit of your stomach grows. Perhaps you should have stayed home, risked his wrath. You are so painfully unready for whatever the peacekeeper has in store for you. Your wild, palpitating heart seems as if it’ll burst out of your chest any second now.

Suddenly, your tremulous walk is halted.

Familiar fingers snake around your wrist. You’re pulled into a dark corner and shoved against a wall. A stunned gasp hops from your throat.

Coriolanus smirks at your reaction.

“No need to be scared, birdie. It’s just me,” he whispers, balancing his arm above your head in a way that makes you feel caged.

“Coriolanus.”

He seizes your chin, cobalt eyes drinking you in. His voice is almost soft.

“You really thought I’d let you walk on your own at night? It’s not safe.”

He parts from the wall. His hand wraps around yours. He tugs you along and you have no choice but to follow.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll recognize it.”

Indeed, you do. To your utter despair. After strolling through a vertiginous amount of dank alleyways and narrow stairs, you and the peacekeeper end up in front of a place that bears a daunting familiarity.

As the neon lights of the brothel fill your sight, your apprehension skyrockets.

Snippets of memories of what occurred the last time you were here lurk inside your mind. Your insides clutch.

Coriolanus sighs. His thumb sweeps across your palm, almost tenderly.

“It won’t be like last time. I promise. You can trust me.”

The same beautiful woman welcomes the two of you. Once again, there’s a flirting lilt to her tone, one the peacekeeper ignores. Coriolanus asks about a room. His questions about it fade amidst the uproarious drumming of your heart inside your ears. You’re a jittery wreck behind him, your gaze bouncing from wall to wall.

His deep voice yanks your attention back to him.

“Birdie?”

“Y-Yes?”

The corner of his lips quirks upward.

“Come with me.”

You nod. Is it too late to make a run for it? Though you’d rather not find out how much worse this could get, how mean Coriolanus could turn. He didn’t even hesitate to have you on your knees before, simply to make a point. He’s in good spirits now, nicer than he’s ever been to you, even humming a light tune to himself. Maybe you should aim to keep it that way. Tread the path of least resistance, as much as you loathe yourself for surrendering to him so easily.

You enter the room. Your heart leaps when you hear him lock the door behind you. The inside is nicely decorated. Candles around the canopy bed at the center of the room provide a soft, intimate light.

Red and white rose petals are scattered over the silk sheets.

Your heart skips a beat when his breath ghosts over your neck.

“It’s pretty, right?” His hands settle over your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I had it decorated specially for us.”

He shifts you so you’re facing him. Fingers sneak below your chin, tilting it upward. Your stomach flutters as you get lost in his blue eyes. They burn into you like coals in the swaying candlelight.

“Has anyone ever done something this nice for you?”

You remain silent for a while, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, the one he gave you.

“N-No,” you eke out after an eternity.

He starts pulling on your scarf. When it hits the floor, exposing your neck to his gaze, you already feel incredibly vulnerable. You tremble as Coriolanus begins to circle around you. As he does that, more articles of clothing join your scarf on the floor, turning into a growing heap at your feet.

First he unbuttons your shirt. When it’s loose on your frame, he pulls on it lightly until it slides off you. Next he unlaces your skirt. Coriolanus is slow, digits dragging over your quivering flesh as he peels every layer of fabric off you. Eventually, you are bare before him. Goosebumps peek under your skin as he spends a torturous minute simply appraising you. Lust swells his pupils, nearly drowning the blue in his eyes.

“Have you ever done this before?”

You shake your head. He seizes your jaw, angling your face upward.

“No miners? No factory worker? No one before me?”

Heat rushes to your face. Still, you shake your head again, faintly wishing you could sink inside the earth and disappear.

Satisfaction illuminates his features.

“So I’m your first.” He caresses your arm. You will yourself still, despite the itch to run away searing through you like a hot knife. His voice lowers to a husky whisper. “I wish you’d see I’m not your enemy, birdie.”

He then shocks you. Layer by layer, Coriolanus starts to shed every part of his peacekeeper uniform. Every piece of clothing falls into a heap on the floor that melds with yours.

When he peels off his boxers, your throat dries. He’s thick and long, just as you remember. Apprehension settles within you. His eyes lock with yours. “Do I look like your enemy right now?” he mumbles. Your pulse picks up as he approaches you. Your gaze drifts everywhere and nowhere, your breath caged in your lungs.

“I don’t know.”

“Do I scare you?”

“Yes.”

His mouth slants crookedly.

“But not in the way you wished, right?”

You gawk at him, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed.

The courage to answer never finds its way into your heart. Coriolanus’ lips however find their way onto yours. At first, the kiss is soft and firm. Cradling your face, he sweeps his mouth over yours without haste. Meticulously slow. As if he wishes to commit your taste to memory.

He nudges you backwards onto the bed. When your back collides with the mattress, his mouth turns more ravenous. His tongue explores the roof of your mouth while his hands wander lower, kneading at your curves. Your head spins. You keen against his tongue as a sick twinge of something you won’t name flickers in your core.

When his mouth parts from yours, you’re both equally breathless, his warm breath mingling with yours. You find yourself almost longing for the heady feeling. Almost. The blond smiles down at your dazed expression.

He traces your jaw with his thumb.

“You can scream as much as you like, you know? No one will come to your rescue.”

“I won’t scream,” you say, defiance igniting your gaze.

“Oh but you will,” he replies with confidence. His mouth ghosts over your earshell. “You’re all mine tonight, pretty bird.” His mouth tugs upwards. “And I plan on making you beg for it before the morning comes.”

As if to emphasize his point, he slithers down your body. The entire time, he corrals your gaze, his blue eyes shimmering in the darkness. He wedges himself between your thighs, meeting only meek resistance as he pushes them apart.

Coriolanus appraises your slick folds. He drags a finger alongside your slit, mirth lighting up his face.

“Already so wet for me, birdie,” he says.

Your face heats. You could try to contradict him but the evidence is right there between your legs. Impossible to escape or deny. You are sinfully, embarrassingly wet in front of the peacekeeper.

“I-”

Brazenness melts off your tongue when he presses his lips to your core. He feasts on your weeping folds, his unyielding fingers keeping you placid and open. His tongue teases your tender nub, drawing torturous patterns. Your muscles tighten. The air in your lungs rushes in and out faster as Coriolanus’ tragically skilled tongue sends zings of shameful pleasure through your spine.

Meticulous and slow, he takes his time to taste you. Every second he spends unraveling you is the most sensual torture.

Your trembling fingers claw at the sheets, your eyes rolling back. You glance down. A peculiar tingle dances through your belly when you catch sight of the blond’s head bobbing between your thighs. Despite your center aching for release, you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth and seek more of the delectable contact. He sucks your swollen clit between his lips, pushing his tongue between your folds. You gulp down a sharp scream. Waves of pleasures sweep through your frame. Your lids flutter as your stomach tightens. A painful tension settles in your limbs, heat gathering in your core.

For a long time, you try to stay quiet. You bite yourself hard enough to draw blood as you muffle every whimper and moan struggling to break past the confines of your lips.

Coriolanus makes his way up your body, his index and middle finger replacing his tongue. Quick exhales burst from your chest as you peer at him through your hazy vision.

“I want to hear you, birdie,” he rasps, his fingers catching on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. He sinks a finger inside you. Your chest lifts, brushing against his. When the digit hooks between your slick walls, grazing against your sensitive spot, you unleash a loud squeal.

The blond smiles.

“There. So much better.”

He sneaks another finger inside your core, stretching you even more. Unused to the feeling, you whine and grip a fistful of the sheets. He pumps inside you, finding a steady rhythm that has you twitching beneath him. The broken moans spilling from your tongue mingle with the wet sounds your cunt makes as he explores you with his fingers.

Embarrassment is slowly nudged aside by the storm of delectable sensations growing inside you.

The heel of his hand keeps grazing against your swollen button, eliciting spikes of pleasure through your flesh.

His forehead rests against yours, his feathery lashes falling to half-mast as he whispers,

“Come for me, birdie.”

Your breathing accelerates, his words propelling you closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers. Your legs tense. Warm tingles swirl across your flesh as your back arches.

A lightning bolt of pleasure passes through you, quick and intense. For a few seconds, not a thought occupies your mind. You are nothing but a million nerve endings on fire.

Your boneless frame crashes over the sheets.

“Good girl,” he praises, his smile expanding. His fingers pull out of you and he brings them to his lips. You watch, sickly fascinated as he dips them into his mouth, reveling in your taste. He hums in appreciation. Your face warms. He then places those same digits over your own lips, forcing you to taste yourself. He bends over you, peppering sluggish kisses in the crook of your neck. His hand splays over your heaving chest, his thumb rubbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch. His lips trail lower on your body.

He pauses, looming over you. Hands on each side of you, Coriolanus lines his tip with your entrance. Your eyes widen in surprise. You squirm and try to scoot away, panic rushing through you.

He yanks you back on the bed with ease, his body pinning yours onto the mattress. When you reach for his face, hoping to land a blow, he snatches your wrists and slams them above your head.

He scoffs, “So feisty, even to the bitter end.”

Your breath falters when his thick tip stretches you open. Even that single inch of him feels like too much. Rapid breaths burst from your fluttering chest.

Tears quiver beneath your lashes.

“It hurts…”

He pushes until he’s halfway inside you. Pain shoots through you as you sob.

The tears spill. He releases one of your wrists to fondle your cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay, pretty bird. I’ve got you.”

He shoves inside you until he grazes your hilt. Your lips part in a quiet scream, your vision flickering. For a while, Coriolanus remains still, giving you time to accommodate his thick girth. He starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep. The longer he fucks you, the more the pain morphs into something else. Something not entirely unpleasant, albeit a little terrifying. The aching stretch becomes tantalizing, your wet walls clinging to his length every time it drags against your soft spots. Little whimpers leave your throat as you cling to his bicep.

Coriolanus’ hand wraps around your jaw.

“Focus on me and only me,” he instructs.

Your eyes dive into his. Flames dance in his cobalt orbs. He smiles, his thumb sweeping over your bottom lip.

“Such an obedient girl.”

“How does it feel now?” he grunts. You note the sweat glistening over his bare muscles, dotting at his brow. His exhales are more strained now, matching yours.

You keen at a sharp snap of his pelvis into yours. He picks up the pace, bending one of your thighs against your chest to thrust as far as his cock will go. Your toes curl, blissful shivers creeping their way up your spine.

“Awful,” you wheeze out.

He snickers. “You’re a horrible liar, birdie.”

You sense him nearing the cusp of his pleasure. His cock twitches between your walls and you plead, panicked, “Corio…Coriolanus…not inside, please.”

A crooked grin spreads on his lips.

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful, if I left you something to remember me by.”

You shudder, shaking your head. “No…”

He slips his fingers between your joined bodies, drawing a long moan from you when he starts rubbing your pulsing clit. He plays with your tender bud until you cry out. You come apart around him, slick walls hugging him snugly as he shoots his thick seed inside you.

Dread settles in your bones, piercing through the haze of delight. You tremble as the stickiness trickles alongside your walls.

He lets out a throaty sigh, trapping you underneath him so you can’t move.

“Yes,” he breathes out, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Your mouth opens in shock as another tear traces a blazing path down your cheek. He scatters bruising kisses along the column of your neck. His cruel words sear into your flesh. “That way you can never forget you were mine before anyone else, birdie.”

You awake with a start, bruised and sore, in the massive bed. Your glance darts around, confusing filling you as you tuck the blanket against your frame. Your shoulders sag. You note faint sunlight pouring through the crimson curtains. All the candles from last night have been blown out.

It’s the next day. You are alone. You shiver at the sight of the rumpled sheets, glimpses from the night before seeping through your mind. Coriolanus kept true to his word and made you sing for him the entire night. He was relentless and didn’t stop until you passed out from pleasure. In fact, you were so exhausted, you can’t pinpoint the moment he left. You simply recall him cooing soft praises in your ear as he had his way with you for the last time.

For a moment, you held some fear that he would never leave, since he was so hellbent on making you come around him as many times in a row as he could.

What terrifies you most however, is that last night wasn’t terrible. Not entirely. Or not in the way you pictured at least. Heat creeps up in your cheeks at the thought.

You clamber off the bed, wincing at the aching stiffness of your limbs. You collect your clothes and begin to dress. You’re eager to leave the room. It stinks of sex and shameful mistakes.

As you climb down the stairs, the madam greets you with a wiggle of her fingers. You bristle, shame glowing inside your chest.

She bends over the wooden handrail, her cleavage threatening to spill out of her dress.

“He said you were free to stay in the room to rest for the entire day if you wished. Paid in full before he left.”

“I don’t want to stay.”

You hasten your pace to reach the exit faster.

She stops you in your tracks, a mischievous grin dancing on her lips.

“So the pretty boy didn’t tire you out then?” She tilts her head and pouts. “Pity. I imagined him to be a more…zealous lover.”

Your cheeks flame as you rush out of the brothel. You can’t get back home fast enough.

You need a shower expeditiously. Never before have you longed for the freezing cold spray to hit your skin so badly.

You return home to at least a month’s worth of supplies and medicine in several bags.

There’s even candy for your cousin, the same he brought her last time. Your cousin’s overjoyed, of course, but you remind her not to overindulge.

Nothing else accompanies them. No letter. No card. You should feel happy at that, you surmise. Finally, you are free to live life on your own terms, return to your routine.

Part of you is a little stunned by it however, and perhaps expect the peacekeeper to not be truly gone. For days, you keep wondering if he’ll materialize from a dark corner or surprise you as you stroll down a dank alleyway.

None of that occurs. Still, it takes weeks for your blood not to chill anymore at the sight of a peacekeeper. After a month of tranquil, humdrum days, you’re forced to admit it. Coriolanus has granted you the peace he promised.

Your chest is a little lighter as you head to the factory everyday. You even start smiling again, which Yara and Tilly keep teasing you about.

But you can’t help it. No more feeling scared or confused. No more eyes trailing your every move. You’re relieved, happy. Life in district 8 may sometimes be uncertain but, at least, you hold your destiny in your hands once more.

Blessed freedom. Finally.

So you let yourself relax. Over time, the terror gripping your gut melts away. The tightness in your chest eases.

Your mind is so at ease that you don’t notice the shadow creeping behind you on your way out of the factory. It’s too late when you do.

A black cloth is shoved over your head as you turn a street corner. You’re hauled off your feet and dragged into a dim alley. Your heart races, panic flooding you as you’re tossed into the back of a vehicle.

The engine roars to life. Every question you ask is ignored, your kidnappers frustratingly silent. You wonder if you’ll die or be sold off to traffickers. You’ve heard of district girls disappearing sometimes, the kind no one will miss or ask too many questions about.

They often end up in sordid places. You’ve heard the stories. Some could end up in the mines, in shady brothels or even wind up as an Avox maid with their tongues cut off. Chills swirl over your skin.

Is it to be your fate? Being carted off to some hellish place and worked to death?

The car stops. Your pulse soars. Quick breaths pour from your mouth as you’re roughly carried to some other place. You struggle, trying to kick your assailant. You land a blind strike and hear a curse. You make a run for it, your blood singing wildly.

It’s pathetic the swiftness with which you’re caught, as if your attempt meant nothing.

You’re shoved into a box. As the slamming of a hammer surrounds you, sealing your fate, you begin to sob. You used to think you were just born in the wrong place, unlucky, like so many others. Now you’re starting to believe you are cursed.

Shivers wrack your frame as the box is lifted. Your stomach lurches. The entire trip is a nightmare. Dread grips you tight as questions crowd your mind about who’s taking you and why. After a while, you realize you’re on a train. Your terror swells.

You’re being moved out of District 8. You haven’t left your district since birth. For better or worse, this was your home.

After an awful, rambunctious journey, the box is finally opened. You hear grunting above you as the lid of the box is pried open.

The bag over your head is removed and you take in a lungful of clean air. Strong arms hoist you out of the box. You clumsily stumble to your feet.

You whirl.

An audible breath skips off your tongue as you take in who stands before you. He looks so different. No more peacekeeper uniform. No more buzzcut.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He smiles. “Hi, birdie.” A wave of snow engulfs your veins.

He sweeps a hand over his silver curls, sounding almost bashful.

“Do you like it? I’m trying to grow it out again.”

Ignoring him, you peer at your surroundings. The white room has a vaulted glass ceiling that allows sunlight in. The pearly marble tiles are pristine. Other than that, you only find one opening. A small door on the other side. You scuttle across the room to reach it.

The door knob shakes but doesn’t give. Still, you insist, your desperation growing. Your heart sinks as you glance down at the tiny keyhole in the door.

Coriolanus’ deep voice approaches from behind you.

“This is a locked cell, pretty bird,” he explains. “And I’m the only one with the key. Dr. Gaul uses it for her more…feral experiments. But she’s granted me permission to use it for an experiment of my own.”

You whip around. “Dr. Gaul?”

You feign interest, hoping to distract him, having noted the tiny golden key dangling from his neck. Coriolanus catches you looking at it and smirks. “My mentor. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through everything. I’m sure you’ll fit right in over time.”

He inches closer and you stagger backwards.

“W-Why am I here?”

Instead of being offended by your attempts to shy away from him, the blond seems mildly amused, studying you as he paces around the room.

“I couldn’t let my sweet bird wither away in a filthy district, of course. I belong in the Capitol, and you belong to me.”

You gape at him. While you knew him to be some entitled rich kid from the Capitol, you never imagined he’d take it this far. Steal you away like you’re some shiny object that struck his fancy at the marketplace. Not a person with a life and desires of their own.

“You’re insane,” you hiss.

His mouth twitches, marking the first hint of displeasure at your reaction.

“We’ll have to work on that coarse mouth of yours. It will not stand here.” His tone grows chillier. “Here in the Capitol, we have discipline, order.”

“Let me go,” you shout, lunging yourself at him. You attempt to tackle him and grab the key from his neck. Unleashing a sigh of annoyance, Coriolanus seizes your wrist and twists it with hardly any effort. The sickening sound of bones snapping lands in your ears. He throws you on the floor, kicking your side for good measure. You keel over the tiles, cradling your throbbing wrist against your chest.

Coriolanus shakes his head as he considers your curling frame on the floor.

“Look what you’re making me do, sweet bird. As I’ve said, your uncouth District wench ways will not stand here. You’re going to behave…” He hunkers down before whispering, “Unless you never want to see your cousin again.”

Your head snaps up, tears filling your eyes.

“She needs me. Coriolanus, please-”

“She will be cared for. There’s a very nice orphanage south of the Capitol, one for all the children who lost their homes in the war.” He beams at you. “She’s being transported there as we speak.”

“Oh my god…”

“You want to see her again? It’s all up to you, birdie.” A slow, wicked smirk blooms on his lips. “...Or perhaps she would fare well as the District 8 tribute for the 11th Hunger Games. She may be a little young…but at least she’d increase viewership.”

“You can’t do that,” you protest, your lip quaking as tears skip over your cheeks.

A dark chuckle leaves him.

“I can and I will. You see, birdie, the world isn’t fair.” He cocks his head. “No one cares about innocent children dying. Hell, I was kicked, beaten and starved so many times during the war, I lost count. No one cared.” His blue eyes turn icier as they meet yours. “The world…it’s an arena. You’re either a predator, or you’re prey.” He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. A gesture that’d be almost tender if the words spilling from his mouth weren’t so cruel. “It’s best to just embrace your role.”

He caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“So will you be my sweet, obedient girl?”

As you sink in his empty blue gaze, a sense of defeat cloaks your frame. You come to realize, you were never meant to come out unscathed from meeting Coriolanus Snow, never meant to win. The fire in his eyes is the kind that burns all standing in its path.

There is no getting away. If you survived him, you’d be lucky.

Your chin trembles as you reply meekly, “Y-Yes, Coriolanus.”

His lips brush over yours before he gets to his feet, satisfaction glowing on his handsome features.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone, birdie.”

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