#i have a family that i never expected and it's amazing

[earthchica]

Make It Right

terry richmond x black, fem!/plus size reader

summary: Terry makes it right and apologizes to you for his words and his behavior; soon, you and Terry talk through your issues, getting a better understanding of each other and rebuilding your communication.

warnings: angst, slight communication issues, serious conversation, explicit smut (18+), light daddy kink, oral (f), rough pent-up sex, making out, flirting, fluff, domestic life, romantic dinner, family vacation, nicknames [ baby, sweetheart, mama, baby girl & more ] words: 5k

note: please enjoy, but there may be some errors.

sequel to { funny how time flies } mini-series masterlist previous chapter { everything I ever wanted }

You heard the soft creak of the bedroom door as it opened and then shut, the sound echoing in the quiet bedroom. Suddenly, a familiar warmth enveloped you as Terry wrapped his arms around you, trying to pull you into an embrace.

You could feel the weight of his body pressing against yours, but frustration bubbled up inside you. “Get off of me, Terry!” you exclaimed, your voice sharp and annoyant as you firmly shoved him away.

You shifted towards the head of the bed, separating you from the man you hurt your feelings. Terry stood there, a blend of guilt and despair washing over his features.

“I’m sorry, baby. I-I,” Terry stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush as his eyes roamed your face, searching for a glimmer of understanding.

The remorse in his gaze was sincerity, which struck a deep chord within you. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.” He sat on the bed and moved closer, extending a hand as if trying to bridge the emotional depth that had formed between you.

“I’m so grateful to have you; you’re such an incredible wife and an amazing mother to our son.” His voice cracked slightly, laden with the weight of his apology, as he pleaded for you to see the truth in his words.

"No, why would you say you're tired of me? How could you say something like that to me of all people?" you yelled, your voice rising as a flood of emotions engulfed you.

A mix of anger and hurt made your heart race. "Baby, I didn't mean—" Terry started to respond, his voice still remorseful, but you couldn't let him finish.

You cut him off, allowing your pent-up emotions to spill like water gushing from a broken dam.

"Do you even grasp how I've been feeling these past few months?" your voice trembled, each word charged with frustration and hurt. "It feels like I'm carrying the whole load on my shoulders, all alone."

"If you’ve been feeling this, why didn't you communicate that to me? You know I'm not a damn mind reader!” Terry shot back, his tone rising and more urgent.

"So it's my fault again?” you retorted, your frustration boiling. “Why don't you take some accountability for once, Terry? You used to know how to support me or recognize when I was struggling without me having to spell it out for you."

Your words hung in the air, charged with the weight of unspoken expectations and the longing for understanding that felt increasingly out of reach.

Terry took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping as he faced you directly, the moment's weight heavy between you. “Look, I know I messed up badly,” he began, his voice low and sincere.

“I hurt you, and that’s not right. I should have never said I was tired of you. That was just disrespectful. You deserve so much better than that.”

Terry paused, searching for the right words, his eyes filled with regret. “I see how hard you work every day taking care of our son. You do everything for our family; I have taken that for granted. I haven’t been there like I should have been, allowing my frustrations to cloud my judgment.”

Terry stepped closer, his hands outstretched, palms up. “I got no excuses. What I said was wrong, and I’m ashamed of it. You’ve been carryin’ so much, I’m sorry, for real. I wanna make it right, whatever it takes. I'll support you better, listen more, and be the husband I know I can be.”

As he spoke, you could see the love and remorse etched on his face—deep lines of worry creased his brow. But it was hard for you to process his words fully at that moment.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger decrease slightly. "I hear you, Terry,” you said softly, almost dismissively. “But right now, I just need some space…I think you should sleep on the couch.”

You get off the bed to grab your shower cap, go to the bathroom, and close the door. You hear Terry leave the bedroom, the silence filling the space again.

After your shower, you take your time with your night routine, meticulously applying your skincare products as if the physical act could somehow cleanse the emotional turmoil still swirling inside you.

Each motion rhythm felt almost meditative, yet the weight of the conversation earlier loomed heavily in your mind. You are dressed in a comfortable tank top and pajama shorts, feeling the fabric against your skin, a small comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

Finally, you climbed into bed, the sheets cool against your skin, but the emptiness beside you felt overwhelming. The thought of Terry not being close to you despite the hurt made the room quiet.

You wrapped the thick blanket tightly around you, trying to find solace in the familiar fabric, yet you couldn't shake off the need for his presence.

Deep down, you craved the warmth of his body next to yours, the security you felt when he embraced him, even if your heart still stung from his words.

With a shaky sigh, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and decided to seek him out. You padded down the hallway, glancing at the clock—it was already late, and you wondered how long you’d been lost in thought.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, the sight of him slumped over on the small loveseat in the living room tugged at your heart. His long frame seemed crammed into the little seat, the edges of the cushions barely accommodating his size.

“Terry…” you called softly, barely rising above a whisper. He lifted his head at the sound of your voice, eyes widening with surprise and a hint of hope.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his voice thick with fatigue. “Um...” you started, crossing your arms over your chest, unsure how to proceed.

The remnants of the hurt and irritation still lingered, yet the sight of his uncomfortable state and weary expression stirred something inside you.

“Come to bed,” you said softly with no expression, and his expression shifted to relief. “Are you sure?” Terry asked, a mixture of cautious optimism laced in his tone.

“Yeah, just…come on,” you replied, trying to sound more convinced than you felt. Terry was always so imposing as he stood up but looked helpless and small.

Without another word, he followed you back upstairs, and the silence between you felt thick. As you entered the bedroom, you climbed back into the bed, the sheets still warm where you had been.

Terry lingered by the door momentarily, hesitation clear on his face. “Are you still upset?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with concern. “I am,” you replied, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the situation.

“But I don’t want to sleep alone. Maybe we can talk more tomorrow when we’re both in a better headspace.” You said softly. Terry nodded, understanding and regret evident in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, he climbed into bed beside you, leaving a respectful and cautious distance between you. The silence hung between you until it was almost suffocating, but neither knew how to break it.

Instead, you both lay there, staring at the ceiling and pretending to be asleep. Eventually, sleep found its way to you both. The night felt long, but eventually, morning came with the promise of a new day.

As the sun peaked through the curtains, you stirred awake first, feeling the warmth of Terry's body against you, and you glanced over at him; your heart softened just a bit as you watched him breathe softly.

After last night's argument, some of you wanted to stay angry and distant from Terry, but another part just wanted things back to normal. You knew in your heart that you two would work this out somehow.

You turn over, gently reach over, and place your hand on his cheek before returning to sleep. Terry stirred slightly and cracked open an eye if you felt your touch even in his sleep.

Terry softly smiled at your sleepy state, knowing he had to make things right. He reached for his phone, the soft glow illuminating the dim room.

Sitting up, he took a deep breath, preparing himself for a tough day ahead—not at work, but at home. He scrolled through his contacts, dialing in to call your uncle.

“Hey, Uncle Eddie,” he said after a few rings. “I won’t be coming in today…yeah, personal reasons. I need to be home…Okay, thank you.” As he hung up, he glanced over at you, still half-asleep.

Terry slid out of bed quietly, careful not to wake you. Padding softly to the baby’s room, he gently lifted Elijah from the crib. Cradling him in his arms, he marveled momentarily at how small and innocent his son looked.

“Good morning, little man,” Terry whispered, bouncing Elijah slightly as he went downstairs to the kitchen. He set the little one in the high chair, securing him safely with the straps.

The baby’s sleepy gaze slowly transformed into a wide-eyed curiosity as he watched his daddy move about the kitchen. With Elijah happily sitting in his chair, Terry began preparing breakfast.

Terry rummaged through the fridge, pulling out eggs, milk, and fresh fruit. As he cracked the eggs into the skillet, their sizzling brought a sense of calm.

Cooking had always been a form of therapy for him. “Let’s get you some breakfast, too, huh?” he chimed to Elijah as he quickly poured him a bottle.

Terry could hear Elijah's soft noises of delight, making focusing easier. Deep down, he hoped that doing this would show you his sincerity.

After feeding Elijah, Terry made a generous portion of the breakfast for you and himself and set the table. As you wake up to an empty bed, you glance at the time and feel slightly panicked.

However, you hear Terry's voice through the baby monitor, talking to Elijah in the kitchen about you, hoping this would be the start of you forgiving him for your argument last night.

As you got out of bed, rubbed the sleep from your eyes, went to brush your teeth, and washed your face before strolling downstairs towards the kitchen.

The aroma of breakfast wafting through the air, making your stomach rumble. Terry turned as he caught sight of you, a sheepish smile lighting up his face.

“Morning,” he said warmly, his voice brightening the atmosphere. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite,” he added; you tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “My favorite?”

“Yeah,” he replied, setting a plate on the table before you. “Eggs, pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit. I know you usually love a little bit of everything.”

As you sat, Elijah babbled enthusiastically in his high chair, excited to see both of you. You couldn’t help but smile at your son and kiss his forehead. "Good morning, baby boy"

You started to eat, the first few bites eliciting a sense of normalcy you desperately craved. “Thanks for making breakfast, Terry,” you said softly, focusing on Elijah. “It smells amazing.”

“I wanted to do something nice for you,” Terry admitted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I know.....last night. I hate that we left things unresolved.”

You looked up from your plate, gauging Terry’s expression. His eyes were sincere, mixed with an undercurrent of regret. “Yeah, I appreciate that you’re trying this morning.”

Terry nodded slightly, the weight of his guilt apparent in each motion. “I just want you to know again I’m sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated, and I didn’t handle it well.”

You paused before responding. “I get that, Terry, but when you said that to me...my heart broke, and I thought we were locked on this, I thought-.”

“I know,” he replied, his tone dropping to a more serious level. “It’s just so hard sometimes, balancing everything— Elijah, work, our marriage. I let the stress get the best of me and took it out on you.”

"Well, I think we really need to work on our communication because ever since Elijah was born, I feel like we've lost sight of that strength we've built," you said, your voice filled with realization.

Terry acknowledged the tension in his shoulders, easing just a bit. “You're right. I've noticed it, too. I miss how we used to talk, how we could share anything without worry.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of those words resonating deeply. “Yeah, me too. Remember those late-night talks we used to have? We'd stay up for hours just dreaming about our future, making plans together. Now it feels like we're just trying to survive the day.”

“Yeah,” he said, his expression softening. “I want to go back to that. “We have to find a way to carve out time for us, even if it's just small moments here and there.”

“What do you think that looks like?” you asked, genuinely curious. “How can we make it happen?” you added. Terry took a moment, clearly contemplating.

“Maybe we could set aside a few minutes each night after Elijah goes to bed. We could just talk about our day or even watch something together. Something light and fun.”

“That sounds nice,” you replied, a smile creeping onto your face. “I would love that. But I also think we need to be able to have those conversations when things get tough. It can't all be about being positive; we must address the heavy stuff, too.”

Terry thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You're right. I think it's so easy to avoid conflict, thinking it will just resolve itself. But it won't, will it? We have to face it head-on before resentment builds up.”

“I can be guilty of that too,” you admitted, feeling the weight of the past few months crash over you. “I've been just bottling things up instead of expressing my feelings. It’s easier to keep the peace, even if it eats away at me.”

“I get that,” he said softly, his gaze steady on you. “But I promise to do better. I want to hear what you say, baby, no matter how difficult. I care about your feelings and will be a better husband; I want to be a better husband.”

Your heart swelled at his words. “Thank you, Terry. That means a lot, and you are a good husband and a father. We're in a tough patch, and I'm sure we'll get through. I want you to feel the same way. We need to make this a mutual effort. If I ever say something that bothers you, please don't hesitate to let me know.”

Terry reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You have my word. And I hope you know I'm committed to strengthening our marriage. There's nothing more important to me than you and Elijah; “I love you, baby.”

"I love you too, Terry." With those words lingering in the air, you both shared a transformative moment of understanding. It wasn't an immediate solution to all your problems, but it was a solid step.

-

The past few weeks have been a turning point for both of you. Communicating openly like you used to, sharing your thoughts and feelings without the weight of tension lingering in the air, had lightened the load on your heart.

As you and Terry cuddled on the couch, the warmth of his body against yours felt comforting. The lamp's soft glow lit the room just enough to create an intimate atmosphere.

You watched Elijah through the baby monitor, sleeping peacefully in his crib. “Wow, you came through, huh?” you said playfully, playing with his ears.

“I feel like I barely had to lift a finger with the housework and Elijah. You got my back like that?” You said with a smile. Terry chuckled, leaning closer to you.

“Well, if I keep you happy, it’s a win-win situation, right?” He pretended to flex his muscles, and you both laughed at the moment's silliness.

“You’re so crazy,” you teased, smirking at him. “But real talk, I appreciate it. I feel like I can finally breathe again. It’s been a minute since we had this together.”

“Right? I missed this, alot, I mean a lot a lot ” Terry expressed, his face turning soft. He brushed his thumb along your cheek, making your heart flutter.

“You know I love you, sweetheart, I wanna see you shine and be happy,” Terry said, and you smiled, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.

“Aww, Terry, I love you too so much. I know I can get caught up in my head often, but having you step up like this? It just makes me feel so much better.”

Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your lips. “You keep saying how I stepped up, but it’s us together making it work. You’re the heart of this whole household, baby.”

Terry paused momentarily, still gazing into your eyes, and you could feel the heat rising between you. “We’ve been keeping things going in the house lately, being a team.”

“True, that's how it's supposed to be. And it feels good to be back in sync,” you responded, feeling at ease. “It’s nice to know you’re all in, and I’m all in too.”

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a slow kiss. It was sweet at first, but gradually, it deepened, both of you melting into the moment as your bodies relaxed against each other.

A playful glint sparkled in his eye when he gently pulled away, hinting at a fun idea. “You know,” he said, his voice brimming with excitement.

"We should plan a little family getaway. Somewhere we can kick back and truly relax.” He said deeply low. “A vacation?” you replied, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Really?” you asked, and Terry leaned closer, the enthusiasm contagious as he continued. “Yeah! How about we spend a weekend at that villa we used to visit in Cancun?"

"And we could invite your parents to join us. It would be an excellent opportunity to unplug from all the chaos and have fun.” His eyes lit up with the thought, a sparkle mirroring his excitement.

You couldn't help but bite your lip, imagining the warm sands and gentle ocean breezes. “That sounds amazing! I adore that place. It holds so many wonderful memories for us."

"—it’s where it all began. Plus, this would be Elijah's very first vacation! What a special way to introduce him to such a beautiful location.” You gasped.

Terry chuckled softly, “So, you wanna do it?” You nodded enthusiastically, a grin spreading across your face. “Let’s do it! I can already envision the memories we can make.”

Cancun, Mexico

The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, casting a warm golden glow over the peaceful Cancun shoreline as the day unfolded—a perfect Sunday morning.

The gentle sound of waves lapping against the soft, powdery sand created a soothing rhythm while a refreshing breeze played against your dark-brown skin, carrying the faint scent of salt and beach flowers.

Elijah giggled uncontrollably as he splashed playfully in the sandy oasis around him. Tiny grains of sand stuck to his little fingers and toes, glistening like miniature jewels in the sunlight.

You and your mom were fully immersed in the moment, working together to construct an elaborate sandcastle. Its towers rose proudly, decorated with seashells and bits of seaweed, as you all hoped it could withstand the approaching tide.

“Look at you, Eli! You love the sand, huh?!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling with affection. The moment's joy was captured forever as you snapped a picture of his bright smile, his hazel eyes sparkling with delight.

Elijah's laughter echoed around you, filling the air with pure joy as you and your mom continued to shape the sandcastle. Your dad strolled, still wet from his time on the jet skis, with a broad grin.

“Y’all got some serious skills over here!” he called out, surveying the castle. "That’s lookin’ like a real palace for my grandbaby!" Your mom chuckled, smoothing out a rough edge of the sandcastle.

“A palace fit for a prince! Ain’t he just the cutest?” She looked down at Elijah, who was now trying to pick up a handful of sand and giggling when it slipped through his tiny fingers.

“Right?” you replied, grinning. Your dad squatted beside Elijah, chuckling as the baby reached out toward him, his little hands covered in sand.

“Hey, Eli? Are you makin’ masterpieces over here? You tryna start a sand empire?” He asked. Elijah let out a squeal of delight, and your dad couldn’t help but laugh.

“Aww, look at that smile! He’s sayin’ ‘I got this, grandpa!’” Just then, Terry wandered back from the jet skis, a towel draped around his neck.

“What's going on? Y’all makin’ a sandcastle? I wanna see!” Terry said, leaning down, peering curiously at Elijah. “And there’s my number one fan!”

“Look at him, Terry!” you exclaimed, scooping Elijah into your arms as his face lit up at the sight of his daddy. “He’s ready to take on the beach. He’s got sand in places I didn’t even think was possible!”

Terry laughed, reaching out to tickle Elijah’s belly, causing him to burst out in another fit of giggles. “Man, how did we get so lucky? He’s a whole treasure out here!”

“Right, such a blessing!” your mom chimed in. You looked at the happy scene around you��your parents, your husband, and your precious son—and felt your warm heart swell.

“This is what it’s all about, y’all. Family!” You said softly, and Terry smiled at you sweetly. “That's right!” your dad agreed, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“We gotta make the most of these days, y’know? Family, fun, and all this love. Ain’t nothin’ better!” With everyone laughing and loving on Elijah, the sun shone brightly overhead, casting a golden glow over your little beach paradise.

Later.

The afternoon unfolded beautifully as your family gathered around the spacious dining table at the villa, sharing a delightful lunch filled with laughter and stories.

The warm sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a golden glow on the cozy living room where everyone eventually settled in. Plush cushions beckoned from the oversized sofas, and the aroma of delicious food lingered in the air.

Your parents, visibly relaxed and content, cherished their time with Elijah, engaging in lighthearted conversations that filled the room with joy and warmth.

Terry leaned over to you, a playful grin on his face. “How about a little adventure?” he whispered, eyeing your parents, who were busily playing their grandson.

“What do you have in mind, handsome man?” you asked, intrigued. Terry glanced toward your mom and dad. "Well, I would you love to take you out for dinner? Just the two of us?”

Your heart raced with excitement. “Really? What about Elijah?”

“Don’t worry,” he replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’ll ask your parents to watch him, so we can have some time for ourselves.” You couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of a romantic evening.

With every detail, he sparked a thrill in your heart that had been dormant for too long. “Okay, you’ve got a deal!” You said with a smile, you rushed upstairs to freshen up.

You pulled out a multicolored sundress adorned with shapes and designs. You applied some light makeup, focusing on a touch of lip gloss that shimmered in the fading sunlight.

Staring at your reflection, you felt nostalgia and excitement, feeling beautiful and ready for the evening ahead. When you returned to where your parents and Elijah were gathered, your dad raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile.

“Wow, look at you, miss thang! Someone’s got a hot date!” He teased, and you laughed. “Just a little dinner with Terry. He has a surprise planned for us.”

"Sounds wonderful! And you two deserve it, sweet pea." Your dad said with a light smile on his face, and your mom clapped her hands together.

“Yeah. We’ll take good care of Elijah. You both go enjoy your night!” Your mom said with a smile, and you nodded, giving Elijah a kiss on the forehead before leaving.

You met Terry at the beach's edge, his eyes lighting up as he took in your dress. “You look stunning, baby,” Terry said, taking your hand as you walked together towards the car.

The drive was filled with easy conversation and laughter. As you neared your destination, you noticed a seaside restaurant nestled under twinkling lights, music wafting from within.

“Is this our spot?” you asked, excitement bubbling. “Yup! I figured we could have a nice dinner followed by some dancing,” he said with a wink, holding the door open for you as you stepped out.

Inside, the ambiance was warm and inviting, with flickering candles on the tables and soft music playing in the background. After being seated, you both ordered and sipped on lemonade while discussing anything.

Terry leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. “So, you got any plans for when we take over the dance floor, huh?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You chuckled softly, tilting your head. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Mr. Smooth! I’m ready to turn this place out.” You twirled strands of hair around your finger, feeling the chemistry between you.

Terry raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Oh really now? Do you think you can keep up with me? I might spin you so fast you'll forget where you are!”

You laughed, biting your lip playfully as you met his gaze. “Honey, I was born ready! Just wait till I hit you with these hips. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Is that a challenge, baby girl?” Terry asked, feigning shock as he leaned closer. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you like a warm hug.

“Because if it is… well, I’m here for it.” His voice dipped low, drawing you in. The waiter arrived with your appetizers, but neither of you paid much attention.

Your eyes were locked in a playful duel. “You know I never back down from a challenge,” you replied boldly, lifting your glass in a mock salute before sipping the lemonade.

He watched every move you made with a smile that made your heart flutter. “And that’s exactly why I love ya,” he said softly, his tone turning more sincere.

It felt like old times, just the two of you in each other's company, the laughter ringing like music. After dinner, the music softened, and the atmosphere turned more romantic.

Terry stood, extending his hand to you. “Shall we?” With a smile, you took his hand as he led you to the dance floor, where the soft light danced around you like fireflies on a warm summer night.

As you swayed together, you felt the rhythm of the music seep into your bones. Terry pulled you closer, his hands resting gently on your lower back, confidently guiding you.

The world around you faded, and it was just him and you, lost in this moment. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered sweet nothings that made your heart swell.

“Look at you, movin’ like you own this floor,” Terry murmured, admiration dripping from his voice. “Ain’t nobody can do it like you can, sweetheart.”

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a giddy thrill igniting your chest. “Terry,” you replied, biting back a smile as you twirled under his arm, relishing how he effortlessly caught you again.

“You know how to make a girl feel special.” You said, resting your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart sync with yours.

Terry chuckled lowly, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes. “Nah, baby girl, it’s all about you. Every move, every glance— I can’t help but be mesmerized,” he said earnestly.

“You’re my whole world.” His gaze held yours captive; it was intimate and raw, each word wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

“You know what you are doing!” You laughed lightly as your cheeks warmed under his adoration. “Maybe...but I'm just speaking the truth,” he whispers, kissing your lips.

The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush that sent shivers down your spine. Time seemed to slow as you melted into him, the world around you fading.

You could taste the sweetness of the lemonade mingled with the warmth of his breath, an intoxicating blend that left you craving more.

As the music swelled, so did your passion. Terry deepened the kiss, his hands roaming from your waist to your ass, pulling you closer as if he wanted to erase any space between you.

“Baby,” Terry breathed against your lips, a teasing lilt in his voice. “You gotta know what kinda hold you got on me.”

You laughed softly, feeling emboldened by his affection. “Oh really? Is that right?” You leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his cheek, an invitation that promised more.

“Yeah...hey, I have something else special,” he replied with a playful smirk. His eyes sparkled as he twirled you again, then pulled you back into him, letting the music guide your movements.

“After this amazing dinner, what could you have else planned, Terry?" You asked as your bodies moved harmoniously, hips swaying together like they were made for this dance.

This moment where nothing else mattered. "You'll have to see, come on," he whispered, took your hand, leading you back to the table to settle the bill.

“You ready for this?” he asked, glancing at you with that glint in his eye that always made your heart skip. “Ready as I’ll ever be! Let’s go!” you answered, excitement bubbling over.

You stepped out into the cool night air, hand in hand. You two were in the car again and eventually made where you two were going. “Terry, where we goin’?” you asked, curiosity bubbling up like champagne, your heart racing as he pulled you along.

“Just trust me, baby,” he said over his shoulder, his smile mischievous and inviting. “I promise it’s somethin’ real special.”

You squeezed his hand, excitement surging through you as he navigated through the small villa. Every step was a tease; every turn held the potential for surprise.

Finally, he stopped in front of an ornate wooden door. He turned to you, letting go of your hand just long enough to pull out a small key from his pocket.

“Now, don't be peekin',” Terry said with a grin as he unlocked it. Your anticipation heightened as the door creaked open, revealing a cozy space bathed in warm golden light.

“Oh wow…” you breathed as you stepped inside, your heart leaping at the sight before you—a smaller villa impeccably decorated with rich crimson roses scattered across the bed and soft candlelight illuminating every corner.

“Surprise!” Terry announced proudly, closing the door behind you both. “I figured we needed a little time on this vacation just for us.” You spun around to face him, unable to contain your joy.

“Terry! This is, this is so beautiful and sweet! You really thought of everything!” You said softly, looking at him happily.

“Aww, you know I had to treat you right, baby. “Ain't nothin' but the best for my queen,” he said, his voice smooth like honey as he stepped closer, closing the space between you two.

You could feel the heat radiating off his body, sending shivers down your spine. “Terry, I love you,” you replied with a grin, your heart fluttering like a butterfly in spring.

Terry's eyes danced with mischief as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear. “Oh, baby, I love you too," Terry said, reaching for your waist.

Terry pulled you against him as his lips met yours with an urgent hunger. The kiss ignited a fire within you, deepening as he playfully nibbled on your bottom lip.

“Taste so sweet,” Terry murmured against your mouth before pulling away just enough to gaze intently into your eyes. His hands slid down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly to the bed.

“I've been wanting you all night” Terry growled, his breath hot against your skin as he sat you on the bed. The soft sheets beckoned you both as he laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Look at you” Terry teased, a devilish grin playing on his lips as he traced a finger along your jawline. “Got all dressed up and ready for me; now it's time to rip that shit off.”

With that, he started peeling off your dress, bra, and panties like they were the layers of an onion, revealing every inch of your skin to him." fuck baby,” he said appreciatively, feasting his eyes on your body.

“You're so damn stunning.” His voice dropped low, sending shivers through you. “I could get lost in you.” He added. “Oh, Terry…” you breathed out, feeling the heat between you two intensify.

Terry leaned closer, his hands exploring every curve and dip of your body before trailing down to your thighs. “You smell good, too,” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, savoring the taste of your skin.

“I bet you taste even better.” You could feel the electricity crackling as he moved lower, his lips brushing against your stomach. “Gonna make you scream my name tonight,” he promised with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Baby, don’t tease me like that,” you replied breathlessly, biting your lip in anticipation. His presence was intoxicating, and every moment felt like it was building to something spectacular.

“I ain’t teasin’; I’m just gettin' started,” Terry responded, his voice dripping with a sultry confidence that sent heat racing through your veins.

Terry grinned, eyes glinting as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “Now open up for me, mama,” he commanded softly, the authority in his tone making your heart race even faster.

“I wanna taste that sweet, wet pussy of yours the way you know I can.” He said sensual and you shivered at the intensity of his gaze, feeling wholly exposed yet utterly safe in his presence.

“Terry,” you gasped, your body arching instinctively toward him. Terry smirked as he spread your thighs wider, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With no warning, he dove in hungrily, lips wrapping around your most sensitive spot and sucking gently while his tongue flicked teasingly over you.

The sensation hit you like a tidal wave, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through every nerve ending. "Oh, shit! Terry," you moaned, gripping the sheets as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

“You taste so damn incredible,” Terry growled against you, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through your core. “Like candy…I could spend all night down here.”

His tongue danced expertly, swirling and teasing as he took his time savoring every inch of you. “Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” you begged, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.

You could feel it building inside you, a tight coil of pleasure that threatened to burst. “I’m close, baby! Just like that!” You cried out, the words tumbling from your lips as his mouth worked its magic.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Terry growled, deepening his rhythm as he added a finger, sliding it inside you just right. “C’mon, let me feel you.” He watched with satisfaction as your body responded to him, arching and writhing beneath his touch.

“Tell me how good it feels, sweetheart,” Terry demanded, his voice thick with desire. You could barely form words; each syllable was swallowed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“It feels… so fucking good, Terry!” you gasped out, your hand finding the back of his head, pulling him closer as if that could draw him deeper into you. “Don’t stop… I need to cum.”

“Then do it for me,” Terry urged, his tongue flicking faster against your sensitive bud while pumping his fingers in and out of you with expert precision. “Let me taste all that sweetness.”

And just like that, the coil inside you snapped. You cried out his name like a prayer, waves of ecstasy washing over you as your body quaked in pleasure.

“Oh ahhh fuck, Terry!” Your voice echoed in the room as you caved to the bliss. He lapped at every sweetness that flowed from you, savoring your release as if it were the finest delicacy.

“Damn, baby! You’re so beautiful when you cum,” Terry said, kissing along your inner thighs. You were panted, barely able to catch your breath.

“That was…” You couldn't get the words out; they were still coming down from your high. “I know, baby girl,” he said, winking at you as he got off the bed to take his clothes off.

Terry climbed back on top of the bed, his muscular arms flexing as he positioned himself between your legs. His eyes locked with yours as he pressed the tip of his big, throbbing dick against your wet pussy.

“Tell me what you want, sexy,” he purred in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Do you want Daddy to make love to his good girl or fuck her senseless?”

You looked into his eyes, the fire igniting a corresponding flame within you. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you growled, the words leaving a wake of desire in their path. “Fuck me 'til I can't walk straight.”

"You got it, baby," he said with a mischievous grin. Terry slammed his dick inside you, filling you to the hilt and setting every nerve ending ablaze.

"Damn, mmmm...you feel so amazing!" His breathing was labored and erratic as he pulled back out slowly before slamming back in even harder.

"Goddamn, yes, Terry! yes, Fuck me like you mean it!" Your words mixed with moans as he relentlessly pounded into you. "Harder, Terry! I want it harder!"

"No problem, babe," he grunted, picking up the pace. Sweat beading on both your brows as your bodies slapped together in carnal rhythm. “I’m gonna give it to you so good,” he said with a moan.

"I know you will, Terry," you moaned. "I know you gonna fuck me senseless."

"You better believe it," he growled, reaching around to roughly squeeze one of your plump breasts, tweaking the hard nipple between his fingers.

"You like that, huh? You like it when Daddy squeezes your tits while he fucks you?"

"Yes! Yes, Daddy, I love it!" you cried out, arching your back to meet him stroke for filthy stroke. "Squeeze them harder, make me cum again!"

Terry obliged, pinching and twisting your nipples as he continued to pound into you mercilessly. Your moans filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a symphony of lust and desire.

"Oh shit, baby, I'm close," Terry grunted, his breath coming in short pants. "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"

"Cum inside me! Cum deep inside of me and show me how much you love me!" you screamed, your own orgasm building up once more.

"Damn, my nasty girl," Terry groaned before picking up the pace even more. “Your pussy is so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels like heaven. fuck I love you.”

As if that were the final push needed, both of you came undone together. Terry roared out his release as he pumped hot thick ropes of cum deep inside you.

"Terry, Terry, Terry" you screamed, chanting his name at the top of your lungs as your body quaked with another mind-shattering orgasm.

Your bodies trembled together as the last waves of pleasure washed over you. Terry collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both struggled to catch your breath.

After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you into his arms. "That was…incredible," you panted, nuzzling into his chest. "You're incredible," Terry murmured, kissing your forehead tenderly.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as your heartbeats slowly returned to normal. You lay there in comfortable silence, basking in the afterglow.

[blackgirlsloveburrow]

Can we get bf Joe where his obsessed with his black gf heavy on the PDA and we see his family and fans reaction and he love to creampie her💕😮‍💨

i got you! this kinda went a different way but i like it? i hope you do too!

NSFW 18+

joe doesn’t give the media a lot to work with. he shows them what he wants them to see. which is his skills as a quarterback or anything he needs to shoutout for his brand deals. he likes to keep everything private, but there’s just one thing he can’t.

you. he’s addicted to you.

no one really expected him to be with you, as you were quite different than his other exes, but that’s what he likes about you. you’re a lot like his teammates where you give him new experiences, different than the ones he had known growing up in rural ohio. you give him new sensations and feelings, so no wonder he can’t keep his hands off of you.

people first found out about you and joe when they saw a photo him kissing on your neck with his hand on your thigh on the same side of a booth at what you guys thought was a private dinner. paparazzi always found a way.

he didn’t seem to mind though.

it was a shock to his fans and family for sure, as they never really imagined the star quarterback to be caught so “scandalously”. this would be something they would have to get used to though as joe never planned to stop showing his affection in public to you.

joe would kiss and hug you anywhere, anytime. embracing you after amazing wins or hard losses in front of everyone. he loved to kiss you, hold your hand or your hip. it’s a side they never saw from him before. he found any chance to show you off, always trying to take you to his events. it was always hard for him having to leave you for more than a day when he had to travel or you had to work.

the way he fucks you when he misses you (which is all time time) is always so passionate. joe misses you even when you go the store for an hour. when he misses you, he always buries his face in your neck, holding your hands down, and fucks you deep and hard. he wants to be as close to you as possible.

he loves to cum in you too. he creampies you so much. he likes knowing that you’re his. you always remind him he needs to be careful when he cums in you, but he can’t help it.

“i just love you so much baby, i like feeling you around me when i finish” he always replies. you can’t help but feel loved, so he always gets away with it.

joe wouldn’t mind getting you pregnant though. if you did, he can show you off even more and you can be by his side all of the time. he would never admit that though.

[lolitastories]

Blue Eyes

Rafe Cameron

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Read alone or consider it as Part 4.

“Are you sure we can’t just skip town and settle in- I don’t know, Canada sounds fun!” I woke up early in the morning to head back home hoping Rafe would stay in his house with our daughter while I dealt with my family. But Rafe being Rafe convinced me it was better to deal with it together, so now I am cleaning my house while he plays with the baby on the couch not listening to my pleas. “She can learn how to ice skate, maybe hockey?” I scream from the kitchen. “I heard healthcare is amazing-”

“Breathe.” I turn around setting the rag on the counter. I look up and see Rafe on the kitchen doorway with our daughter in his arms. I pat my hands dry on my pants as I walk closer to them.

“Japan?” He grins, shaking his head. I groan as I place my head against his chest. “This is going to be unbearable.” Rafe moves his fingers under my chin and lifts it.

“Maybe it won’t be,” I raise my brow, he couldn’t even believe in his own words. “As long as they don’t make any rude remarks, we will be fine, civilized.” He comes down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“If It hadn’t been for a moment of weakness, I wouldn’t have been dealing with this.” I grab Rafe's hand and pull him towards the couch. “I just had to visit my grandmother,” I hear Rafe laugh as he sits down and places our girl in between us.

“By the stories, what else did you expect from a mother-in-law who deep down never liked her son’s wife?” My father was her first born and definitely her favorite.

“Maybe respect her granddaughter's wish of wanting to wait before I tell the rest of the family.” I look over to find Rafe just grinning. “That grin won’t last long,” I stood up and moved to take a spot on his lap. One arm around his shoulder while the other caresses his face. “I can handle them if things go south. I don’t want to put you in a difficult situation.” I look down, chuckling as I watch our daughter grab a fist full of my pants as she tries to crawl between us. “I know your temper and I want you to promise you won’t let them get the best of you,” I look back at him, who is staring blankly back. “Please?”

“Okay” He helps our daughter stand on his lap and her small arm waves around to get a hold of Rafe. We laugh seeing her almost hit me.

“She has to learn how to share,” It's like she understood. Her small head turns over to look at me. I placed my face in the crook of Rafe's neck but soon after she was back to hitting me. “He was mine first” I playfully joke which she smiles at. Our moment is cut short when we hear a knock on the door.  I took a deep breath before opening the door which revealed my parents, grandmother and sister. “Hey”

“Hi honey, how are you?” My grandmother passes by without even looking at me. “There she is!” I hear her excitement.

“Let us have a good reunion, okay?” I move aside a bit more and stay quiet due to my mother's words. My father only nods his head and walks in close behind my mother.

“Ready?” I look up and shake my head. “Too bad.” I know my sister was trying to lighten up my mood, but these nerves can’t be knocked out until they are out of here. I walk to stand beside Rafe who was already being stared down by my parents.

“Mom, dad, grandma, this is Rafe” My grandmother looks up and smiles before going back to babbling at my daughter.

“Nice to meet you” Rafe goes to shake their hand, but they don’t even give him that. I roll my eyes and turn towards my sister.

“This is my sister.” I point over and she smiles, coming forward to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet my sister's first boyfriend,” I give her a stare, but she doesn’t take the hint. “She wasn’t much for dating so imagine us more than surprised when we heard she had a kid with someone.” She was the only one laughing.

“Yeah, imagine us surprised.” My mother coldly said. “We never interfere with her choices because she has always been our responsible one but not even letting us be part of such an important part of her life well, we didn’t expect that.”

“What made you think that was a good decision?” My father finally looked straight into my eyes. “Wasn’t he the reason you came home for those weeks? Now you have a child with him?”

“No. My reasons for coming home were about me, I needed time to breathe, and I thought going home would clear things up.”

“Doesn’t seem like it cleared up anything in you. You must have come home because you told him you were pregnant, and he didn’t want anything to do with you or your child.” He knocked the wind right out of me. “Then you moved back, and he probably didn’t even help you through your pregnancy and only shows up once a week” His tone got higher as he spits out his words.

“I am not going to argue about what he did or didn’t do because you don’t deserve or have the right to that part of my life. I have a child with this man, and he will keep on being part of my child's life because he wants that too.” My hands felt numb.

“What will happen when he decides to leave huh? How would you take care of your child alone as a single mother? You’re tough my girl, but you fall down so easily.” My jaw stiffens as I watch my mother agree with my father's words.

“Well, that is part of life, isn’t it?” I look directly at my mother. “You know more about fighting for your kids as a single mother than I will, but I can assure you I will not find a man of convenience. I can handle that, you two on the other hand have no right to give me advice on that topic.” My mothers' eyes look down before taking her stance again. I remember the day I was hiding in the living room. She was talking on the phone, and she was talking about not loving my father. She married him because he had the means to take care of her and her children she brought into the marriage. That is when my view of them together forever changed, he wasn’t my real father, but I loved him, and she didn’t love him. “Now another part of my life I don’t need advice on is you being a part of her life,” I pointed over towards my daughter who was getting fussy in my grandmother's arms. “I know you aren’t here for me so if you want to get to know her, I will accept it as long as you know your place.” I feel Rafe's hand entwined with mine.

“You think-”

“Dad.” My sister walks forward. I could see the anger in his eyes. The way his hands are fisted shut. My head turns when I hear a cry from my girl. I walk over and take her from my grandmother's arms. I didn't hear what my sister was telling them, but they were quiet when I walked over to Rafe.

“We need time.” My mother finally speaks. She picks up her purse and starts heading towards the door with the rest. “We will let you know when we are available to visit.” My grandmother kindly hugs me before she walks out along with my sister.

“Mom?” I stand in the doorway watching as she steps down the stairs following my father towards the car. “My life will continue with or without you and so will hers. I will not go out of my way to please you anymore; I have more important things in my life now.” Her cold stare and demeanor don’t change. She walks off taking another quick glance back at me as she gets into the car. I shut the door and hear in the background how the tires drive off in the gravel. My mind was interrupted when I felt two hands grip my face and pull me in. Rafe places multiple kisses on my lips, then my cheek until he stops and stares at me. I didn’t notice until a laugh came out of my mouth, but I had a huge smile on my face.

“I am so proud of you” He wraps his arms around my waist making sure not to squish our daughter. “Are you okay?” He says lovingly. I nod my head letting my shoulder fall from all the tension.

“Yeah.” It felt like forever with them here but now that is it all over, I feel so relieved like it never happened. “We need to make this a happy day again.” Rafe raises his eyebrow questioning me. “Let's go out!” I pull apart with him and start getting the diaper bag ready.

“How about the aquarium?” I pause thinking back to the last time I visited one. “You love it, and it will be nice to share that with her since she is becoming obsessed with that otter” I laugh putting that exact otter in her bag.

“You don’t want to go thrifting?” I tease handing him the bag.

“No.” He instantly responds. “I will follow you through hell, but I don’t think I can do another antique store or thrift store for another month.” I roll my eyes.

“You are exaggerating,” I hand over our daughter so I can put on my shoes. “But I guess I will just have to find me another man who doesn’t mind”

“You do that, and he won’t last long breathing.” I ignore his comment and stand up to take the diaper bag from his hand.

“Whatever macho man. Let's go because we have enough time to get back before her nap.” I rush over to the door and see him slowly walking. “I thought we would repeat our prior activity while she naps but it's fine-” I hold back a laugh when I see him speed run past the door.

“You should have started with that!” I shake my head as I lock the front door and rush down to the stairs towards his truck. “Don’t you dare touch that door!” My hands weren't even raised I thought in my head. I hear the gravel move under his feet as he comes around the truck. I go to turn around, but his hand meets my hip and pushes me against the truck gently. His other hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I know this feels too normal to go back to where we used to be, but We know that we can’t go back to the way we were before.” He moves his body closer. “I want to be the man you need not just because you are the mother of my child but because you deserve someone who treats you right.” My body shivers to see his eyes full of such devotion. “We will go slow when it comes to us because this is forever. I will take my time for the sake of us.” I wasn’t the one to cry but Rafe's always brought it out of me.

“I love you” I say in a shaky voice. A smile appears on his face, and he moves forward to place a simple kiss on my lips.

“I love you too” I didn’t meet Rafe in his crazy teen years, but I have heard stories about how unhinged he was back then. I wonder how many people would be shocked to see him now. A devoted father who will do anything for his little girl, and a man who looks so lovingly at me. So sappy, I smiled to myself. Then again why did I care? This was the Rafe I knew and loved, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[maelstrom007]

@ghouljams Jesus ghoul my brain is still going this is like back when the Fae au was kicking off I can’t stop

It’s amazing getting attention and praise from Price, he’s breathtaking and smart and has the answers to all your questions. But no matter what you do, no matter how good you are, Ghost is still there looking unimpressed and still suspicious. Always keeping an eye on you, perpetually expecting more from you, even more than the other people (You’re Prices pet project, he needs to make sure that you’re perfect.)

So imagine how it feels when one day you do something big, like really big, like denouncing your family and selling off all your personal possessions big. And unbeknownst to you Price gives Ghost a little signal, one he’s only given a handful of times. Imagine the confusion and then euphoria when Ghost comes up to you and claps your shoulder with one massive hand and nods his head in recognition of a job well done. To be acknowledged and praised by Prices chosen one? Who’s never given you more than a disdainful look since you’ve arrived?

They have you hook, line, and sinker.

@ghouljams the worms are worming. . . I was listening to Depeche Mode today and Personal Jesus reminded me of your cult leader Price AU and it just has a death grip in my brain. . . All I could think of the whole song was Price manspreading in a chair with Ghost, Soap, and Gaz posed around him in dramatic backlighting, doing his biding to keep his cult in check.

Price is obviously cult leader, we get it, we know it, he's so charismatic and clever and manipulative and influential we know we know we know.

Thinking of what the other boys roles would be in this whole thing though. . .

Gaz is definitely the person on the outside clocking discontented people and setting in hooks. Absolutely gorgeous man, charismatic as fuck, endearing and non-threatening (at first glance), such blinding loyalty that he is able to see and interact with the outside world and not be tempted to leave. This simultaneously makes him adjusted enough to 'normal' life that he gives off very little red flags when inviting people in. He's also the person who befriends the new follower and makes sure that they're only seeing what they're supposed to, and vetting if they'd be impressionable enough to add to the flock. Testing their resistance to peer pressure, vetting them and making sure they're impressionable enough.

Soap is the listening ear on the inside. His job is to ingratiate himself amongst the followers and report any findings to Price, both good and bad. So not only is he keeping an eye out for disloyalty, plans to leave, discontent, etc. but he's also looking out for personal things like lost personal possessions, low stakes concerns, anything that Price can use to give individuals 'personal' time with him that makes him seem attentive or even slightly omniscient to the more spiritual followers.

Ghost's job is really to be that of a smoke screen. He is very visibly Price's 'right hand man', outwardly intimidating and such a hard ass on rule following that he acts as a force pushing followers to the sphere of Gaz and Soap. Because they couldn't be that close to Price, right? No one but Ghost is. So surely they're safe talking about their doubts and confusion, as long as Ghost is out of earshot. I feel like he also makes Price more valuable by making him more unobtainable. Unless Price comes to you, you need to seek an audience with him through Ghost. And 99% of the time even if you do get to see Price, Ghost will be there. At least that's what people say anyway. Price definitely isn't telling everyone that he's 'made an exception just for them' and that 'this'll be a secret between the two of them'. Definitely not.

I have this notion that it would be one of those self sufficiency communes that has their own internal ecosystem, growing their own food, making their own clothes, etc etc. They would send the well behaved followers to set up a stall at the nearby towns farmers market to keep up appearances and make sure that nobody in the town really bothers them. Who gives a shit what the group of farmers in the middle of nowhere are doing when their produce costs next to nothing and tastes divine? Maybe they should go out there some time and see what it's like. . .maybe learn how to take care of a plant or two of their own? And you've always wanted to learn how to do pottery, the cute guy on the corner says they're hosting a class this weekend. . . . . . . . . .

[demigodsanswer]

I know it's kind of an stretch since they're royals and have their babysitter, but maybe Percy and Annabeth being interrupted during their alone time because their child keeps demanding their attention?

This for the modern royals au btw

Might write this as an actual fic later, but if I write it now, I'll stay up all night. but I could not get this idea out of my head. It's just royal Percy and Annabeth discovering what parenting must be like for people who aren't born into birthright monarchies

Percy and Annabeth are way more hands-on parents than most people in their position, but because of this, they have a tendency to underestimate how much they do rely on their nannies for. When Sofia is about five and Ingrid (Gigi) is about three, they take a family vacation to New York for about a week to visit grandma. It's the kids' first time in New York (they've met Sally of course, she's just traveled to them). Percy and Annabeth decide they want to go just the four of them, because they love New York and want special time alone with their girls. They're also trying now for the third baby, so they know it's going to be the last vacation for a while.

They have a house in New York that Annabeth's family uses whenever they're in the city, but the little girls have never been there before. During the day, it's tons of fun, they like to explore it (when they aren't out and about), but the first night there, Gigi gets scared and runs to her parents.

Percy and Annabeth were just getting started on baby three, so to speak, when they hear Gigi. Gigi ends up spending the night in their room. No luck that night.

The next night, Gigi doesn't interrupt, just prevents anything entirely by asking to stay with them. They say "okay, but just one more night."

Well, the next night, Sofie learns that Gigi has been doing this, and asks to stay too. Now they have both girls in bed (and I don't know if you've ever slept next to a young child, but it's chaos. This is not a restful night of sleep).

The next night, Percy and Annabeth suggest the girls just have a sleepover together. The girls love this plan. They build a fort over the bed they're going to sleep it, and it's great. Percy and Annabeth are getting it on. And then Gigi wets the bed, which she hasn't done since she finished potty training, so it's a completely new phenomenon no one is expecting. Gigi is upset, Sofie is upset she's been peed on, and Percy and Annabeth have two messy girls, two messy sets of clothes, and a messy bed. And these are two people who haven't done a load of laundry in minimum six years. So Percy takes care of the wash (he's more used to the practice, as he actually did his own laundry when he lived in New York and through college), while Annabeth gets them in the bath. Very little sleep is had that night.

Percy and Annabeth have literally never been more tired. This is the first time they're really feeling the weight of parenthood as regular people must. But thankfully, Sally an Paul are taking the girls to the Museum of Natural History the next day, so Annabeth and Percy have the day to themselves. Originally they had planned to visit old haunts, maybe get a cocktail together. They spend the first half of the day asleep, and the second in sexual positions they haven't found themselves in in six years. They are in a revitalized, amazing mood by the time they meet Sally and the girls for dinner.

The last night in New York, they just decide to have a big family sleep over, forgoing any attempts at baby making in favor of movies, popcorn, and snuggles with the kids they do have.

Also all the nannies are getting raises when they get back.

[loucifersbitch]

one of the things i love about online friendships is how REAL they are. no, we've never met each other in real life. yes, i do love you endlessly. because your first impression of me wasn't my appearance. it wasn't the sound of my voice or the color of my hair

it was my brain. you saw what i had to say, the way i think, my specific brand of humor, and you said 'yeah, i like this one'. we built a connection based on our personalities and the ways our minds work

and i love that

[vigilskeep]

i need to wynnepost. somebody has to

[lilidawnonthemoon]

[kidvoodoo]

Donnie scouting with those sweet sweet robo-arms 💜

[s0fter-sin]

so lately i’ve been obsessed with a 141 dancer au

gaz runs classes, has a youtube channel and quickly becomes one of the most sought after choreographers in the music video scene. soap is his dance partner for his classes, he helps run them and does demonstrations with him

ghost is also a choreographer and he’s gaz’s Arch Nemesis

he's famous for never performing his routines, never doing public appearances without his skull mask and being highly exclusive with who he allows to perform his choreo which earns him his name (since he’s a ghost creator). gaz however is a social media darling, his classes and videos regularly doing huge numbers

they both popped up around the same time and are neck and neck in terms of popularity and skill and they immediately rub each other the wrong way

gaz accuses ghost of not actually choreographing his routines himself bc no one has ever seen him dance and ghost thinks gaz is a clout chaser who's just in it for the fame instead of passion

he became a dancer as a way to channel his rage after years of being an underground fighter, the discipline and physicality helping him more than fights ever did. he hates the thought of someone just using it just to get famous when it literally saved his life

deep down they know their accusations are wrong and they have a grudging appreciation for the other's talent but they'd both rather die than admit it

price is a famous dancer turned director they both work with frequently and they always fight over him; trying to get their routines picked for his music videos. he's also the only one in the industry who's ever seen the ghost perform (before he got famous and before the Incident™)

he finally gets fed up with them constantly being at each other's throats and hires them both to work together and choreograph a joint routine. they're both famous in their own right but this video is for a huge artist so neither of them can refuse no matter how much they hate the other

gaz has a gymnastics background but also a ballet background which lends him to a more fluid style whereas ghost’s style is stronger, more masculine with sharper movements so they naturally end up butting heads

then there's soap who has a completely different style altogether, focusing on a more modern, breakdancer style which makes him see everything completely differently

but it also adds to his self-doubt bc he didn't have a formal dance education, he built his entire repertoire by himself. people see him as inferior to gaz who has that very formal, highly disciplined style. his insecurities about only ever being seen as gaz's demonstration partner and that he can only do gaz’s routines so all his skill is just an extension of him instead of being seen as a dancer in his own right forces him to adopt a rigid - destructive - perfectionism in himself and his body

soap meets ghost before the first rehearsal. he gets to the studio early to practice when sees this beautiful man dancing

he has no idea who he is but he moves so seamlessly, almost better than gaz, and he immediately falls a little in love. the man catches him watching in the mirror and he flusters, getting worse as the man just smirks at him and flawlessly completes the routine

soap tries to save face and asks him to teach him the routine he's doing

the man agrees, introducing himself as simon. the style of the routine is familiar to soap but he can't focus on it when simon's hands are on his waist, guiding him through the steps; his chest pressed up against his back. they work together beautifully, picking up each other's body language and dancing together easier and better than they've ever danced with anyone

then gaz arrives and the vibe in the studio immediately changes

simon's easy confidence becomes hostility, pulling up the skull gaiter he'd let hang around his neck as he practically pushes soap behind him to square up to gaz

soap’s shocked when gaz hits back with the same energy until he realises it's the same way he acts whenever he talks about ghost and his stomach drops

he steps out from behind ghost to side with gaz and the betrayal in simon's eyes hurts more than anything he's ever felt

from there it's romeo and juliet; camp gaz versus camp ghost as they fight over every step of the choreo and soap is the poor bastard stuck in the middle

soap tries to channel that “you’re my best friend’s rival, i have to hate you,” mindset but he can’t forget the way it felt to dance with simon

and how much he wants to do it again

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[adore-gregor]

I feel so lucky

[boyjoan]

hello!! i am choosing not to be centred around the minute details!!

[harmonizewithechoes]

.

[chenisthebestkitty]

Tiffany couldn't quite work out how Miss Level got paid. Certainly the basket she carried filled up more than it emptied. They'd walk past a cottage and a woman would come scurrying out with a fresh-baked loaf or a jar of pickles, even though Miss Level hadn't stopped there. But they'd spend an hour somewhere else, stitching up the leg of a farmer who'd been careless with an axe, and get a cup of tea and a stale biscuit. 

It didn't seem fair.

“Oh, it evens out,” said Miss Level, as they walked on through the woods. 

“You do what you can. People give what they can, when they can. Old Slapwick there, with the leg, he's as mean as a cat, but there'll be a big cut of beef on my doorstep before the week's end, you can bet on it. His wife will see to it. And pretty soon people will be killing their pigs for the winter, and I'll get more brawn, ham, bacon and sausages turning up than a family could eat in a year.”

“You do? What do you do with all that food?”

“Store it,” said Miss Level. 

“But you-”

“I store it in other people. It's amazing what you can store in other people.” Miss Level laughed at Tiffany's expression. “I mean, I take what I don't need round to those who don't have a pig, or who're going through a bad patch, or who don't have anyone to remember them.”

“But that means they'll owe you a favour!”

“Right! And so it just keeps on going round. It all works out.”

“I bet some people are too mean to pay-”

“Not pay,” said Miss Level, severely. “A witch never expects payment and never asks for it and just hopes she never needs to. But, sadly, you are right.”

“And then what happens?"

“What do you mean?”

“You stop helping them, do you?”

“Oh, no,” said Miss Level, genuinely shocked. “You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?”

"A Hat full of Sky" - Terry Pratchett

[atrwriting]

future problems — coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

hi everyone :) jumping on the bandwagon

this man is so fine i couldn’t help myself. i hope everyone had an amazing holiday if they celebrate — i celebrate christmas, so here is my almost 10k word christmas gift to all of you xoxo love u all v much thank you for reading !!

as always, warnings: corio-lame-o is a fucking warning holy fuck, smuuuuut, arranged marriage (i think this counts?), coriolanus is a distrustful evil fuck (but he’s super hot), fem!reader, reader is married to this dickhead (i say as if i wouldn’t want to be lmao), angst, sexism and misogyny is def in here, p in v penetration, m receiving oral, choking, dom!corio, asshole!corio, sub!reader, subspace kinda

informal warnings: bro what the fuck was i on this is literally 10.2k words and i refuse to edit because im super lazy anyway we die like men you've been warned

anyways… here is future problems:

he never wanted to get married.

he saw it as a potential problem, one that would most definitely lead to loose ends — and he hated loose ends.

despised them.

however, his innate need to maintain an image was far more important to him. he weighed the costs and benefits in his head like an algorithm — check, check, check. coriolanus’ mind left no stone unturned, especially when future problems were to be squashed before they could ever be wiped from memory. in the end… he decided he would marry.

and it would be you.

he never allowed himself to be naive — so he would never allow himself to marry someone he already loved. lucy gray? a child’s want for something they can’t have, and something they wouldn’t realize until later that it was a walking regret. no — he could never marry someone that would harm him. absolutely not. out of the question. therefore, it had to be you.

it had to be you because what harm would you cause him? you were shy, quiet, of satisfactory social standing, and uncontroversial. everything a patriarch of the snow family would want. deserved. be entitled to.

he needed someone that wouldn’t be a problem — a loose end in the future. he had conquered so much — he refused to let anything else, especially as irrelevant as a significant other, stand in his way.

however… it did not aid him in his stone-cold lack of a love affair conquest that you were absolutely breathtaking.

at first, it was just an ego boost. he simply couldn’t stop his thoughts from voicing, of course she’s perfect. the snow legacy can only have perfect.

but then… oh, then…

then he saw your smile.

oh, your smile.

your fucking smile.

the first time he caught himself enjoying it — he scolded himself. he refused to see you for a week. a punishment of sorts. more so for him than for you. after, he refused to let his eyes wander on the pretty features of your face for him to witness a reaction to something someone had said or done. he didn’t want to be reminded of what it was like to experience joy or peace because someone else was experiencing it — that was what almost costed him everything he had built.

no one would ever tear that down. not again, not ever.

no one.

when the day of your marriage came, it was business as usual. he refused to meet eye contact, and did not partake in more conversations with you than he had to. he could tell you felt uncomfortable — but he forced himself not to care. he drove it down, down, down like a miner drilling for more coal — hoping, one day, it would be worth it.

and it was… until he was sick.

it was a minor ailment — nothing major, but he was on bedrest for about a week or two. he had employed enough adequate members to his staff to feel that things would at least be taken care of until then. he also found comfort in the fact that two weeks was not long enough for something irreversible to occur. if a problem had taken placed, he would be able to rectify it once he was well and able and… set aside the responsible party.

however, he did not expect one problem.

and that would be you.

he knew you were asking to see him. he knew, he knew, he knew, but he refused to let you in. you were not disrespectful — you had only asked once a day, which happened to be every day in the afternoon. he had picked you specifically because you were too quiet to be annoying. however, his own perfect, pristine, and proper plan had stabbed him in the back. he had never considered that the perfect, pristine, and proper wife would be this dutiful to him, checking in once a day on his condition and to speak with him. despite his illness, he laughed at himself — leave it to him to not expect the expected: the hand-selected dutiful wife would, in fact, be dutiful.

he had to put an end to it. he couldn’t keep saying no for another week. how was he expected to get better if you kept bothering him?

so he let you in. this once. just this once. he reasoned that if he let you in this once, you would be less persistent. just this once — and another problem would cease to plague his mind.

just this once, he chanted in his head. just this once.

he sat up straighter, and attempted to shape his hair so it wasn’t terribly unkept. he reasoned that if you saw him appearing to be healthy, you wouldn’t feel the need to come back. he thought —

but he couldn’t finish the thought.

because you walked in.

smelling like fucking lilacs.

lilacs, of all things. lilacs! not roses, not anything else — lilacs. he did not hate lilacs, but he despised the actual flower. only beautiful for so long before it died and the stench was intolerable. an inconvenience. a nuisance. a guaranteed future problem.

however, when you gifted him with a small smile — you realized why small shows of beauty were so valuable in this world. no one else saw your smile — except for those closest to you. people he hand selected to be around you to prevent future problems. he realized then — he had more control and ownership over your smile than either of you thought.

he was so stunned by your smile he didn’t even notice the tray of tea and cakes in your hand. you took a few steps towards him and he shifted in place.

“i brought your favorites,” you spoke softly. “i know you should rest — i just wanted to ask if there was anything i could do to make your recovery easier.”

“no, thank you,” he replied, voice raspy. “i should be well in a few days.”

you nodded and offered an uneasy smile. his eyes flickered over to how once you had set down the tray on his beside, you slowly wiped the palm of your hands down the front of your dress. your eyes were cast absentmindedly in front of you, on the wall — and he could tell something was plaguing your thoughts.

he then also realized there was a book on the tray, much to his dismay.

“someone had mentioned that this was your favorite author. this was published a few days ago,” you began. “i understand that you have been experiencing headaches, and may find it difficult to read… so i wanted to offer to read aloud for you, in case you found these walls dull.”

you smiled — it was an attempt at a joke. he smiled back, but only to be polite. “today i find myself wanting to sleep. i appreciate your offer.”

you smoothed your hands over your dress once more before nodding and forcing a smile. “i’ll leave you to it, then.”

you did not bid him farewell — and he found himself wondering if he was annoyed or grateful. you simply exited the room, and let the door shut softly behind you.

he scrunched his eyes at the door, swallowing hard.

however, he didn’t understand why.

he had wanted this. the perfect wife — knowing when to take a hint and frankly, fuck off. you had done that, perfectly well — so why was he pissed?

he then found himself glaring angrily at his favorite tea cakes. the swap of sugar for honey, another one of his favorites. his favorite author, a book he was excited to read when he was better. he knew that you hadn’t asked about him — he employed people with the requirement to let him know when you were asking questions. he knew your every outward thought and concern, and sometimes even the ones that weren’t shared aloud because they were so evident on your face.

and then he realized: you noticed things like he noticed things.

however, he knew why he went out of his way to notice things, but why did you?

his jaw clenched as he glared angrily at the wall in front of him. he picked up a tea cake and chewed it aggressively, swallowing it half-intact. he coughed at the barely there food, anger rising further to his flushed cheeks.

he needed to understand how, and he most certainly needed to understand why.

he never went out of his way to get to know you, because he thought he already did. he thought he had you boiled down to one thing, and one thing only: passive. incapable of proving to be any sort of roadblock that was capable of getting in his way. now that he knew you shared something with him, what else was shared? was there something he had to look out for? was there something he missed? was he wrong about you?!

he had to know. he had to.

to do that… he called you back that evening. it was two hours before midnight, and he knew you were awake. despite having separate chambers, he knew your daily schedule. you would be reading at this moment, and he would ask you to read for him.

as if on cue, he heard a soft rapping on the wood of the door. he beckoned you in, and you entered the room. you were clad in a night dress with a matching robe over it, all pink silk. this time, he returned your smile.

"i apologize for the late hour," he spoke. "i hope you had not retired for the night."

you shook your head, your tendrils of perfect hair shaking slightly. "i was reading. i am glad you sent for me — can i get you anything?"

"i was hoping the offer to read for me was still on the table," he rasped. "i find myself unable to sleep."

you blinked once, staring at him. in an instant, a small smile was threatening to overtake your face into a large one. you cast your eyes down to a blushing manner, but his eyes narrowed slightly on your face. what would you get out of reading for him? what we he not seeing? what did he miss?

"of course," you responded. "i have not had a chance to read anything by this author. i am glad i have the chance now."

why. why. why.

he did not show his discontent. he simply rested back against the pillows as you reached for the book on his bedside table. you sat down on a chair on his side, and you crossed your legs. he eyed the small portion of the exposed, soft skin of your legs and wondered if your new ploy would be to try and seduce him. however, you quickly covered your skin with the extra material over your robe and placed the book in your lap. once opened, you read for him.

he was not listening to what you were saying, but he was listening to how you said it. the tone, the enunciation, the pauses, and the speed. he wanted to find some clue as to why you had made it a point to be at his beck and call, and he wanted to see how long the act would last until it dropped.

the act would drop. it always did.

the hour would approach midnight before he found that he could not discern anything from how you were reading aloud. his plan did not yield the results intended, as you had not broken from fulfilling his task for two hours. two hours. you had not stopped out of boredom or exhaustion, nor to talk to him. you were poised, soft, and he hated to admit it... but sweet. he found your voice sweet, and he hated it.

and he fucking hated himself for it.

he needed this to end so he could plan further. out of necessity, he yawned. if you were to apt at picking up clues, then hopefully you would believe that he was finally tired. you had succeeded in his given task, and you were free to go.

but you had kept reading for him.

he grew angry.

when you had paused to breathe, he spoke up. "I think i am able to sleep now. thank you, sweetheart, for indulging me."

your eyeline raised with your eyebrows, almost out of surprise. you either were not expecting him to ask you to stop, or you did not want to stop. he wondered which, and if that would answer his ultimate question.

"my apologies, i should've inquired sooner," you replied. "he is a very talented writer... i found myself enjoying his perspective."

you grabbed a piece or scrap paper from his bedside table, and tucked it in between the pages where you left off.

"most people would fold the corner," he remarked, eyes drifting closed — a show.

you smiled. "i didn't want to ruin the integrity of your book. goodnight, coriolanus."

she left with another smile — and all he was left with was confusion, and rage.

the next morning, he found himself wanting to call you back in for a further rouse interview. he would have if he had a plan in place.

that was the second thing about you that annoyed him: you annoyed him to the point where he wanted to act without a plan in place. a loss of control —which he was highly against.

that would have to be righted immediately.

he spent the morning reading the pages that you had already read to brief himself as if he was listening last night. he reasoned with himself that the best course of action would be to ask you to read to him again to see if you had grown comfortable enough to let a few of your true colors slip.

they always slip.

the sudden task that was presented to him gave him a new bout of energy that he needed to inch closer to recovery. it gave him the push he needed to be closer to walking out of this room and continue to run panem, and he was lost grateful to you for giving it to him — almost. at the moment, you were a problem — and that needed to be corrected. immediately.

he found comfort in control, so he was very content with routines. he had grown accustomed to bracing himself for your check-in in the afternoon. however, it did not come until the approaching hours of the evening had almost descended upon the capitol. he waited, and waited, and waited — so long that he considered asking you to come for himself. the hour would approach dinnertime when you had finally asked about his well-being, and he sent for you.

how dare you ask so late in the day, as if you didn't care? he allowed you access to his life that he had denied you for so long, and you return his kindness with carelessness? this would not do. this most certainly would not do.

you had knocked on his door, and he had to stop himself from sounding to eager. he permitted you entry, and you entered with the same soft smile.

"good evening," you greeted.

"hello," he replied, voice still raspy from his sickness.

"I wanted to ask if you need anything," you announced.

he offered a small smile. "i enjoyed our time last night. perhaps you would read for me, again?"

your eyes fell to the floor in a blush. "of course. I was hoping to read more of the book eventually. i found it intriguing."

you sat down in the chair and pulled the book in your lap. as you were opening it, he spoke, "i thought when you had not checked-in in the early afternoon you found the book dull — afraid i would ask for you to read it for me again."

you shook your head as you smiled. "i like his writing very much — i was concerned as to whether i had prevented you from sleeping the night prior, and didn't want to disturb you further."

he swallowed. "why would you have disturbed me?"

your eyes glanced upwards from the pages to rest on his face. coriolanus stared back as slight concern washed over your features, making your lips part and your eyes widen. your tongue darted out from between your lips, and smoothed over the skin of your bottom lip. you responded, "before you fell ill, we hadn't spent much time together and i understand that is because of your position — but, to be frank, i wanted to respect your space.”

your answer perplexed coriolanus. he wanted to find out what type of person you were — and your answers were not yielding the expected results. there was no obvious form of manipulation in your words, which then worried him. were you smarter than he believed you to be? were you as cunning as him? more so?

so he went with what was natural: manipulation.

“i apologize my station has not granted us the freedom to get to know each other further,” he replied, holding your gaze. “it is a regret of mine.”

you smiled in an affirmative manner, like you didn’t believe him but accepted his answer anyway. this expression arose the same feelings he now detested your presence for: he acted without calculating his actions and the outcome they would produce.

“what troubles you?” he asked.

your lips parted and slightly quivered. you were not expecting him to ask.

“i-i was worried that i may not… please you,” you admitted. “that… you may regret our union.”

“you have been a kind and dutiful wife,” coriolanus spoke, eyes holding yours. “there is no regret.”

there was that affirmative smile again. he found himself hating it — wishing it would be replaced by the warm, soft one.

“i guess i was hoping that, when i was married, the marriage would be more than… a union.”

your candor shocked coriolanus. he would never have expected you to say something… so out of turn.

“please, forgive me,” you spoke, slightly laughing and waving your hand in the air. “the hour is almost late and i was hoping to read more. do you still wish me to?”

“please,” he answered and nodded.

you gave him a quick, thankful smile, and began reading.

this would be the second night coriolanus had not listened to a word you had said.

he had gotten his answer, and it was possibly as bad as the one he was actually afraid for.

you were good. pure, innocent, and your outlook on the world untainted. you were not striving to find a loose screw and let the empire fall. you wanted… to support the man who built and kept the empire together. it was worse than anything he could’ve ever imagined — you actually cared for him.

you cared for him, and now coriolanus snow was fucking terrified.

and yet... he had asked you to return to his chambers every night after that.

for research purposes, of course. only research purposes,

to read to him, but his goal was to learn more about you rather than the text.

you would sit there and read until he asked you to stop. when he did, you would close the book, smile at him, place it back on his nightstand, and bid him goodnight.

after, he would wrestle with the blankets and pillows in order to find out how to deal with this.

how had he not expected this?

his only fault was that he neglected to realize how far your shyness would go. you had grown comfortable with him — and you admitted that you wanted something more, something he always felt he could not give. you weren’t shy — you just weren’t open with people you weren’t comfortable with.

he should’ve known. he should’ve. fucking. known.

he didn’t know how to deal with this, if he was being honest with himself.

he told himself that he asked for you every evening to get to know you better, for his own sanity and safety; but then he began to realize he had found out everything he needed to know.

good and honest. how fucking unfortunate.

he saw a part of you, but now he needed to know more.

so what did he do? he sent you flowers. flowers. an arrangement of red roses and lilacs.

he hated himself for the lilacs.

he got somewhere with you when he had made the first move before — maybe this would yield more promising results.

however, it didn’t.

all he received in return was an extra tray of food that had arrived in the afternoon. his favorite tea cakes, and a handwritten thank-you note detailed in your appreciation for the beautiful flowers. you signed your name, and that was it.

she doesn’t make first moves, he thought. she responds to them.

he knew what he had to do.

he found himself feeling better that day — well enough to end his sick leave and return to his matters. dinner was approaching, and he sent for you to join him for a private dinner this evening.

he was washed, dressed, and coiffed within the hour.

he found you in the dining parlor waiting for him, inspecting his large bookcase. you were trying to reach a book a bit above where your height would allow, extending yourself onto your toes. coriolanus walked up behind you, towering over you, and retrieved the book for you.

you glanced up at him with wide eyes. “thank you, coriolanus.”

“what intrigued you?” he asked, grinning softly.

“first one i couldn’t reach. i was working my way up.” you smiled at him, and then the book. “please — you must be hungry. let us eat.”

you sat down at the table across from him. dinner manners were rather stiff and uncomfortable, but your upbringing that was similar to coriolanus’ prevented you from straying from them. you ate in silence for a few moments before you spoke.

“how do you like his new book?” you asked.

coriolanus cleared his throat. “i find it riveting. i wouldn’t have been able to read it for some time if it hadn’t been for you.”

you smiled at your plate, blushing. “his points are very interesting. i was never very interested in politics — so the insight of someone so heavily involved with them is very informative. do you find that your opinions align with his? or does he not share your perspective?”

he appreciated your willingness to engage with him about topics you weren’t very fond of. an underrated trait, not found very often — he had to admit.

“a bit of both,” he responded. “the one thing he does not discuss is how important it is to have a certain type of person or persons in your regime that allows the flow of success to continue.”

you nodded. “you have built a strong administration — i’m sure he would admire what you have to say.”

“what do you believe?” he asked. “about partnerships?”

you swallowed, contemplating your answer. “i think… a successful partnership is where everyone is complimented by another. for instance, someone is better at briefing documents rather than the presentation of them, and another is the opposite.”

“which one are you?” coriolanus inquired.

you paused once more, folding your lip under. he realized that was a sign you were uncomfortable — unaware of how to proceed. after a moment, you answered, “i feel the most confident under a strong leader. i prefer to be behind the scenes. minute details are easier to be taken care of that way. while you and i are different, i respect you for being the strong leader panem needed. i am sure the majority would agree with me.”

now was the time.

“it is easy to be strong when one’s wife makes sure they are well,” he replied, eyes resting on your face. “i hope you know i appreciate your willingness to accept change and make sure needs are met.”

you smiled at him once more, then turned back to your food.

damn, he thought. didnt bite.

“and for being the companion i… didn’t think i would come to enjoy the company of,” he added.

you glanced up at him then, astonishment written in your eyes as plain as the words on the paper you read for him every night. “may i ask you… a question?”

he nodded.

“did you believe you wouldn’t enjoy my company before, or after you had first met me?”

“i don’t understand.”

you swallowed, clearing your throat. “were you… wary of the idea of marriage, or wary of me?”

your gaze did not break from his. you were braver than he thought.

“marriage,” he answered honestly, hoping to witness your reaction.

there was the affirmative smile — the one he hated. “thank you for — for being honest.”

your eyes didn’t wait for a response. you turned back to your food, and left him dumbstruck.

“i hope i have not displeased you,” he stated.

“no, coriolanus,” you spoke. “if i am being honest… i was wary i would not be suitable for you. if i have not displeased you, then i am well.”

“but you stated you wanted more,” he countered, tone even.

“i hoped we would… spend time together,” you answered. “and we have.”

it was coriolanus’ turn to be at a loss for words. what would this admission relay? it only solidified what he was afraid of — you wanted a marriage filled of love, and he was not prepared for that. ever.

“the flowers were beautiful,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts. “thank you for sending them.”

“your lilac perfume is a wonderful addition to the capitol,” he spoke, unsure where this had come from. “i wanted you to know that.”

you weren't supposed to say that you weren't supposed to tell the truth you weren't supposed

you smiled at him appreciatively, that accompanied a slight twinkle in your eye. you were quick to return to eating, but coriolanus couldn’t stop staring at your face. he realized then that was his new favorite smile.

there was a moment, a small moment, where he wondered whether it would be such a crime if he did allow himself to enjoy your company more than he had. in that moment, he couldn’t think of how it would go wrong. for that moment, you were a simple, low-maintenance, beautiful woman on the other side of the table with him that just liked spending time with him — and he enjoyed that you weren’t a problem. would it so bad if he entertained the idea?

he immediately cut himself off. of course it was a bad idea.

once dinner has finished, he had requested to walk you back your chambers. if time spent together was what kept you at bay, he could manage that. he most certainly could.

when the pair of you had approached the door, you stopped for a moment and paused reaching for the handle. you spoke, “would you… like to come in?”

“not tonight,” he rasped. he gave you a polite smile. “another time.”

he watched as you blinked your eyes a few times and your lips quivered. you didn’t meet his gaze, for it fell — in what appeared to be embarrassment.

oh.

you invited him in to… to…

that he had not expected.

before you had the chance to leave, he swooped down and grabbed your chin in his thumb and forefinger. he pressed his lips to yours ever so softly, holding it there. the moment your breath caught in your throat, there was a strange feeling inside his chest that made him feel like he’d like to quell your worries by catching you off guard another time. and another. and another. and another. he couldn’t have you feeling rejected, no — not when he didn’t want to reject you. he needed heirs, sure — but they could wait. he would contemplate how long later.

once he pulled back, you smiled. inside you were bursting, and you wanted to hurry behind a closed door so he could not see your reaction. he continued to hold your chin and gaze at your face. feeling brave, you looked him in the eye as you bid him goodnight and went into your room.

you left him standing outside your door, facing its wood paneling.

what was he to do?

he wanted to keep you as emotionally far away as possible to avoid anything like this occurring. he was prepared for people who had an ulterior motive… not a young woman who only wanted to be good to her husband.

the worst part was… not every part of him wanted him to keep you away.

would it be so bad, if he had actually courted you?

you were not anyone from his past, no. you were not irresponsible and impulsive, and you could be trusted to remain within a designated role and space. you were rarely outspoken — you never strayed from your cue cards, nor did you get smart in private. you never spoke out of turn, which coriolanus always knew — this was just the first time he was more turned on than he was just grateful.

he reasoned a reward was in order.

he found his knuckles wrapping on the door before he could stop himself.

the small movements inside your apartments stalled for a moment, pulled taut like a string in an instrument. he could picture you — standing still and silent, waiting for an explanation.

then he heard footsteps approaching the door before the door handle turned. when you opened the door, the first thing he saw was your eyes.

those big, beautiful eyes that looked at him with surprise — and the slightest bit of hope. coriolanus would most likely try to convince himself that he stayed completely still to exercise a form of control over you — but deep down, he would never be able to believe that completely.

however… when you reached out with your soft, delicate hand, and pulled at his own — it didn’t matter why he did it, because he won.

he shut the door behind him, keeping your gaze.

“i would be coy and ask if we could spend time together in a... different way than usual…” you began, sighing. “but up until this moment i was convinced we would never…”

coriolanus was in no mood to quell insecurities and anxieties. he understood that words could not compare to actions, and so he would do just that.

coriolanus stepped forward, and pressed his large hands against the sides of your face. for a split moment — you almost looked terrified. he usually relished in that look from others, but with you it only made him concerned — angry, even.

“i don’t know what it is about you.” his voice was shaky. it was the first moment in your entire marriage that coriolanus had shown even a shred of weakness. “you smile, you obey, you take my transgressions like they’re fucking sweets. why?! tell me!”

your big, round eyes were blown wide as your brow was knitted together. your lips were parted in an innocent manner, and it only fueled his anger. one of your hands came up to gently lay across the back of his. “coriolanus — have you ever considered that i just wanted to get to know you?”

his eyes searched yours like they were an important document and he couldn’t believe what bullshit he was reading. his lips pursed in a manner that suggested a sour taste, and you felt your joy slipping, slipping, and slipping.

“coriolanus — if you want to go, then go.” your voice was breaking. you knew he was a cool, hard man — but this? this? it was almost too much. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t —“

he couldn’t take your nonsense anymore. he shut you up with a kiss.

he smashed your lips together like it was the first thing he should’ve done when he walked back into the room. a squeal died in your throat at the contact, but coriolanus held you there and upright. both of your hands found the firmness of his chest for balance. when he pulled away — he barely did. he kept his lips an inch away from yours as little tuffs of air pushed past. he leaned his forehead against yours, almost bonding the two of you.

“my greatest displeasure will be making you regret this,” he rasped, eyes screwed shut.

your breathing began to hasten as you contemplated your next words. you began to stroke coriolanus’ hands with your thumbs, hoping to coax him. “you say that like it’s inevitable.”

“it is not far from,” he choked through anger and sadness.

you couldn’t help but stare back at him as he almost glared at you — but then you realized that wasn’t the case. he wasn’t glaring at you — he was glaring through you. whatever traumatized him, whatever made him so distrustful of the world around him and the people in it… you realized then that you represented all of that to him. you had to be different. you had to show him that you were different than all of that.

“i’ve trusted you,” you whispered, almost pleading. “i would like for you to try and trust me. please, coriolanus… i’ve never asked you for anything — just this once —“

coriolanus shook his head, dismissing you. “it’s corio.”

he slammed his lips to yours. his kiss was that of a fight; burning with every cut of anger, frustration, desperation, and sadness in his soul. you weren’t sure if he accounted for your inexperience, but you let him lead as you swallowed all of his suffering. you knew you may never be everything you wanted to be for him — but for this moment, or for whatever he would allow — you could be his escape, and he could be yours.

just this once, you both thought. just this once.

his hands were on both sides of your face, caging you in as you were at the mercy of his bittersweet affection. you tried to keep up with him, almost afraid that you wouldn’t be enough for him — but corio didn’t care. he couldn’t have cared less as he backed you into the foot of the bed. he didn’t stop kissing you as the back of your legs hit your soft mattress, and you were forced to sit down.

with his tongue tangling with yours, you managed to lift your hands to the top buttons of his shirt. he batted your hands away and went to work on his own buttons. you reached behind for your zipper to your dress and attempted to undue it.

corio then pushed your hands away with that too — ripping the zipper down its track and pushing the sleeves down your shoulders.

“corio —“ you gasped through the kiss, struggling to keep up with him.

he pulled away for a short moment, staring into your eyes. “i have denied myself being with you for so long — nothing is stopping me now.”

he held the glare, and you could only stare back at him in fright. however, that was when you realized that he had felt the same way, or at least similar — you both wanted each other, and had been scared to approach the other. your heart filled with warmth, threatening to explode, but all you could do was nod.

he seemed to calm down then, glancing down towards your lips where he prodded your bottom lip with the tip of his numb. “i have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss my perfect wife — and now that i know, i don’t think i’ll ever give it up.”

you smiled at that. “can i tell you what i have been wondering?”

his eyes met yours once more, almost a warning. you didn’t falter, though. he replied, “yes?”

“i’ve wondered what it would be like to please you,” you spoke softly, a pink hue rising to your cheeks.

his flat look broke then, softening. a smirk greeted his features and you could see his confidence in himself rise. “my lovely wife wants to please me?”

“yes,” you spoke, holding your breath. “if you’ll let me.”

bright and striking, flames of mischief came to light in his irises. emotions of excitement and fear rose within you, and you weren’t sure which was stronger. all you could do was watch as your strong, powerful, larger than life husband stood over you, chin raised, looking down his nose at you, as he unbuckled his belt. his pants and briefs, once around his ankles, were discarded — but you didn’t see that. you couldn’t look away from his eyes — holding you, and your gaze, in place.

it was like you were an enemy he was testing. you didn’t know what he expected, let alone what would make him happy — but you hoped his expectations were slightly lower in light of your inexperience. you swallowed the hard rock of nervousness in your throat, stood up, and gestured for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. he raised an eyebrow at you, but complied. you sat down on your knees in between his, and waited patiently for direction.

“can you…” you began. “can you teach me?”

he smirked once more. “take me in your hand.”

you bent your head lower, and grabbed him by the base. he was hard and warm in your hand as you saw him trying to fight the twitching feeling in his limbs. his muscles were tight, afraid to show weakness. you grew uncomfortable — you didn’t want him weak, but you did want him to feel comfortable enough with you to enjoy a fucking blowjob.

holding his muscle upright, you stuck your tongue out and licked around the tip of his cock. he was salty, but smelled so masculine after a long day. his scent infiltrated all of your senses and had captured your attention. it made you hungry, greedy — so much so that you closed your lips around his cock and began to suck.

he jumped then. “teeth,” he spat.

you paled in embarrassment and fright — but didn’t allow your fear to show for long. you adjusted your tongue and lips — so that your top lip was folded under your top set, and your outstretched tongue covered your bottom set. hollowing out your cheeks, you took him into your mouth once more.

a low hum filled his chest.

you couldn’t see him, and could barely hear him — corio was being a selfish lover and not letting you know whether or not he was enjoying himself. he told you once before you were doing something wrong, so you tried to trust that he would tell you.

that was easier said than done, frankly. with your free hand, you reached up and began to massage his sack in the soft skin of your palm. the hum in his chest turned deeper and louder, and you felt his hips twitch once.

maybe it shouldn't have mattered that he wasn't vocal — but it wasn't like he was shy. you would not fault him for not doing something he didn't want to do, but it was like he was denying you that. if you were making him feel good, and he was fighting the volume of his moans — how fucking dare he deny you of that! there you were, constantly at his beck and call, and he couldn't even freely moan with you? you were obedient, quiet, grateful, everything he wanted — but this? this? too much. absolutely too much of an ask.

you had to do something.

"mr. president," you cooed, twisting your soft tongue around the tip of his cock. "you're awfully quiet above me."

he let out a laugh as he struggled to keep his composure. one of hands found the back of your head as his fingers struggled to tangle themselves in between your strands. they were tugging and pulling, but there was no strength in his grip. his grip — wouldn't catch. couldn't catch. corio, you husband — struggled day in and day out to keep the control in the capital and inside his castle. there was a part of you that believed he just needed to let go, let someone else be in control — but you were his pretty little wife after all. you had until death to try everything. losing control could wait, because tonight... tonight was about making corio the grateful one for once.

you let your loose grip run circles up and down the length of his cock. his shaft was wet and thick, begging the attention of the light from above so the skin was able to glisten. the tip of his cock, red and angry, almost neglected — never had you seen something so delicious, nor deserving of affection. your lips, swollen, wrapped themselves around the tip of his cock as you sucked. notes of salt and sweat mixed together on your tongue, and you hummed at the taste.

"taste sweet, mrs. snow?" you heard from above you. your eyes glanced up to find corio's eyes glazed over with pleasure. his eyelids were drooping over, and all you could think about how badly you wanted to make him close his eyes in bliss. your eyes watched his eyes, but his eyes watched the way your mouth sucked him in. "being so good for me. let your husband see what else you can do."

your ears perked in interest. you didn't know what he meant, but you were intrigued to see if he would teach you.

"please... show me what you like," you spoke, extending your neck as he lowered his face to yours.

"so eager to please..." he spoke, staring down at you in awe. his hand slid down for your scalp to cup your cheek. he looked into your eyes like he was studying you — searching for something surface level. a flaw, or something good... you weren't sure. "i suppose some would say i'm lucky."

you didn't like the sound of that... but you didn't let it show. you gave him a hint of a smile. "i don't think it matters what anyone else thinks. i think what matters is you telling me what you like... so you can decide if you're lucky or not."

he chuckled at that, but his laugh was reserved. always holding back, your husband. "you really want to be a good little wife for me... don't you?"

you fell into the strength behind the hand on your face and keened into his touch. his hand was warm against your skin. "please, corio... please let me."

he stood then, and your gaze raised with his body. you gazed up at him as he stared down at you. there his eyes went again — searching yours. he stood closer to you then, bending down slightly. "it would please me if, at any point, you told me to stop because of the pain. i don't want to hurt you." his voice was low and soft then, immediately striking you. "can i trust you to do that? hmm?"

"i'll tell you," you replied, nodding your head. "i promise."

"never break a promise you make to me," he warned.

you nodded your head once more, unsure how to proceed. he led you over to the side of the bed where he gestured for your to lie down. with the passing of time, you became more and more aware of how bare you both were in front of each other. you were ready to let down every fence of insecurity for the man before you... but there were still walls of his that threatened to come down. he was hot and cold every other moment, it seemed... and you weren’t even sure where to begin.

“husband,” you spoke, unsteadily, as he found his place between his legs. “you seem so… distrustful of me. what can i do? please, corio, i just want this moment to be special for us — for you.”

there his eyes went — searching yours again. it was like he was rereading a page in a book over and over, hoping to find the hidden message in the black and white scripture. his eyes, going back and forth, appeared to be looking over unclear smudges and scribbles as his lips began to purse. you almost said something — stopped him from withdrawing into himself, but he moved before you could.

he sat back against the pillows, which faced a mirror across your bed. you rose curiously, hoping that he would finally give you some direction. he simply took your hand in his, and gestured for you to come closer. “come,” he spoke.

in his lap, maybe? you thought curiously. you went to throw your leg over his, before he stopped you. with a furrowed brow, you watched as he adjusted you so your back laid against his chest.

“do as i say,” he whispered against your ear, sending shivers up and down your spine.

your eyes were cast to the side, his outline in your peripheral vision. you nodded, letting your lips fall apart. you felt one of his hands on the soft skin of your thigh, grazing upwards towards your hips. you almost let your eyes fall closed, hoping to lose yourself in the sensations, before corio stopped you.

with that same hand, he reached upwards and grasped your chin between his fingers. your eyes shot open as he moved your head to now face the mirror, and the pair of you in it.

shallow breaths were pushing past your lips as you stared into the mirror. your cheeks were flushed, your hair in a slight disarray, and your lips were swollen. with a flutter of your eyelashes, your gaze flickered towards corio’s reflection. your husband was always perfect — so even the slight persuasion from tidiness was a remarkable sight to you. his eyes were focused — unable to remain cool, calm, and collected as usual.

his eyes, you thought. his eyes will always tell me.

“you will watch,” corio spoke suddenly, voice hard. “you will keep your eyes on my hands. you stray, and i leave. understand?”

you nodded, looking into his eyes through the mirror.

he cocked an eyebrow.

“yes,” you spoke, almost breathless. “i understand.”

corio’s hand then found its way to your center. the tips of his finger tips, soft and hot, lightly drew a line up and down your slit. your eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror — focused on his fingertips. it was like your skin knew every correct button to tap, tap, tap. every part of you was so sensitive, so keen to his touch that you were embarrassed. you felt so pathetic against his chest, bent to his will — but you wouldn’t have had it any other way. the voice in your head was whining and hoping you would give in, just give in, let down your guard, give in, forget manners. you wanted to keep your composure as long as possible, but when corio’s middle finger found your clit…

oh… you were done for.

one of your hands immediately snapped up to find corio’s bicep and clutch onto whatever foundation he could give. you didn’t dare let your eyes meet his, even in the mirror — what if he stopped? what, huh? what then? when you were the closest you had been ever? you couldn’t allow yourself to be greedy, not when he was being oh, so selfless.

the circles he was drawing taunted your ability remain calm. he rolled your tiny clit underneath the weight of the tip of his finger and pressed down with every circle. it pushed, and pulled, and fucking pried at every fiber of your being. you could only force yourself up and back against corio, whining like a pathetic mess.

“running away from me, my sweet?” he whispered in your ear. “when i’m being so kind?”

his words bit at your ear, reminding you of your position in his world. your eyes were threatening to drift closed, hoping, praying, that corio would let you slip this once from your responsibilities. naive, you were, to believe that.

“remember our deal, wife,” he darkly cooed in your ear. “one request was all i had. i refuse to be denied it.”

“i know, i know…” you whined, rolling your hips with his hand. “it just feels so good, corio… i’ve never… no one’s ever…”

“i can tell you never knew how bad your body would crave it,” he spoke, nipping at your earlobe. “even your pussy obeys me, drenching my fingers. too sweet for this world, aren’t you?”

“just wanna be sweet for you, corio,” you whined as your vision began to blur.

the approaching orgasm was anything but a warm and fuzzy feeling around you. it was hot and jagged — making your muscles jerk, yet force your hips to roll into every movement of corio’s. the cloud over your brain felt like a warm haze of the finest whisky or tobacco the capital could offer. you were numb, drunk, and unable to process the world around you unless it was corio. his touch, his taste, his scent, his look, his orders… everything was setting you off and keeping you in place all at once. your body was hot to the touch, feverish as it tried to fight your sophistication and just fucking —

“that’s it, sweetheart. so focused on the mirror you can’t even find the strength to let go for me,” he spat, pressing a kiss to your cheek and breathing in your scent. “ride my hand like the good girl you are. you wanted to show me, remember?”

tears were brimming your eyes and blurring your vision. your teeth were gritted and bared for him. one of his hands came up to loosely grasp your throat as your hips began to spasm. it was so much, too much, so much —

“corio, please —“ you cried. “please let me look away. i can’t — i have to cry, i can’t —“

there was no softness in his movements against your aching clit. corio had now employed two fingers to dip into your core, collect your slick, and rub it along your sensitive bud in harsh circles. it sent your mind through a suffocating tube and gasping for air. you were begging, pleading — unsure what would happen if you were denied the ability to finish in peace. you began to cry in frustration and fear, so sensitive to the touch and his approval.

“corio…” you whimpered. “please, please let me…”

“do it,” he spat, holding your throat and kissing your face. “show your husband how fucking messy you can be for him.”

you grasped onto him and threw yourself back.

it was like a rollercoaster. twists and turns, yanking your body every which way. corio’s body rocked with yours as the sensations climbed and fit into every single one of your limbs. your lungs, burning, were screaming for air as you tried to fight for consciousness. the world was white, milky, foggy — unable to navigate, let alone exist in. all you could feel was corio’s body moving with yours and coaxing you through the most insane moment of your entire life.

tears fell down your face, and you struggled to conceal it. corio refused to let you hide from him. he bent his face low to yours and pressed the side of his face against the side of yours.

his breaths were heavy, similar to yours.

“corio…” you whimpered, almost whining.

“i know, sweetheart,” he cooed. “so good for me, weren’t you? asking so obediently and politely.”

you nodded, pressing your forehead against his. “i’m sorry that i was —“

“what’re you sorry for?” he demanded.

you clenched your jaw. “i was — i am — i’m worried i was too much — i was so — out of control —“

he shut you up with a kiss. coriolanus snow refused to allow you to continue, or else he knew he would be offended if he had let you finished.

“i wanted that,” he stated. “every bit of that. what, you don’t find it agonizing to be prim and fucking proper every day?”

you laughed uneasily, a bit spooked by his outburst of aggression. “i thought you — i thought that was what you wanted from me.”

he shook his head. “out there — it’s necessary. in here, when it’s only the two of us? don’t ever hide yourself from me. you must promise.”

you swallowed as your haze began to disappear. “only if you promise the same."

you saw his jaw pulse from the corner of your eye. “i promise.”

“i promise,” you returned.

you quickly reconnected your lips. you couldn't let the moment slip away. you needed to seize him while he was there — trusting you for the first time in your entire relationship. you found both of your hands on the side of his face and held him to you. corio fought for control, but you gave in immediately. the need for him to need you was stronger and more satisfying that anything else you could've experienced in that moment. you turned around, straddling his lap and pushing him down to the bed.

everything you were doing was improper: grabbing your husband, forcibly kissing him, sitting in his lap, pushing him down... you almost stopped. you almost gave into the insecurity and made friends with with meekness and shyness once more. however, you made a promise — and you intended to keep it.

"i want you inside me, corio," you whispered against his lips. "please, i want to feel you —"

"again, sweetheart?" he ripped himself from your lips to grunt out his teasing. "one taste, and you're addicted?"

you hummed approval against his lips, tangling your tongue with his. with one hand on the back of your head, holding your face to his, corio's other hand fished between the pair of you and grasped his leaking cock in his hand. the tip was red and swollen, aching for some stimulation or attention. he spread his precum over his tip and with a firm hand, corio slid his cock inside of you.

you arched your back away from corio. the feeling of him being fully sheathed inside of you bent your attention in every which was. both of your hands cradled the back of his head into your chest, where he found himself nestled between your breasts. his breaths were hot and heavy, moist against your skin. his swollen lips found one of your perky nipples and sucked it into his mouth, caving to his primal urges. coriolanus snow wanted every part of you for himself, and needed to place that claim on every part of your body. he wanted your thighs to shake and ache from being locked around him, your fingers to tremble from your hard grip, and he wanted your lips to be bruised from how hard he made you bite them. and, most of all, he wanted every loud moan to rip itself from your aching throat and fill the perfectly painted walls of this damned room.

he cursed you when you threw a hand over your mouth, and he immediately ripped it away. "don't you fucking dare," he spat.

you ignored him. he was your husband, and he was the scariest man you would ever meet, and yet you ignored him. most of all, your hips ignored him. they began to roll against his own the best they could for their inexperience. up, down, and grinding down was the best they could manage before corio grabbed you by the flesh of your hips and moved you to his liking. and when your mouth parted and a loud cry made your throat shake when he twisted your hips forward, he knew he found the spot.

"do not ever deny me what i am owed," he spat, fucking into that spot that wrapped a tight band around your abdomen. "i want to hear how good i am making you feel, and i will. i get to hear. those are mine. i am owed those."

again, you ignored him. what did he expect when your eyes began to roll back into your head and you began to match his pace? you were close, you were so, so close...

that was when corio grabbed you by the chin, refusing to let up his pace. his eyes were full of darkness, yet focus. like he had found his prey. you tried to focus, tried to give him the respect the deserved... but you couldn't. your mind was swimming, and your arching cunt was dripping down his length and onto the skin of his pelvis. you were lost. so fucking lost.

"yours, corio!" you whined. "all yours. only yours."

his voice was gruff against your lips as his thrust became rougher. "say it again."

your eyes began to drift closed as you leaned your head into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips against his. his cock had found its way to the most sensitive and purest part of you and ripped down every wall you had. you sobbed, "yours, corio. only yours."

corio threw you off of him and your back hit the bed. he was on top of you in an instant. he threw your legs up and pressed them against your chest. with your ankles on his shoulders, he pushed himself inside of you and began to relentlessly punish your perfect fucking pussy.

"mine, you got that?" he spat against your ear. "i have watched you, day after day, put on this fucking act! perfect and proper — but i made a proper whore out of the most desirable woman in the capital, didn't i? and now she's mine — forever warming my bed."

"forever, corio," you whined. your sobs were music to his ears, going straight to his cock. your cunt was raw from the friction and slick, unsure if corio should stop or keep going — but you didn't let him guess. "inside me, corio, please... want it to bad. been so good for you..."

his hand was around your throat and demanding your attention. "as if i'd waste a drop when every man in the capital would be able to see you round with my child. you want that wife? my seed, my child? you want to be fully claimed by me?"

"yes," you cried, tears falling down your cheeks. "give it to me, husband, please —"

corio reached down in between your hips and rubbed your clit with whatever energy he had left. his thrust were growing sloppy, but his movements against your swollen bud were worse. he was hissing in your ear as he continued the assault against you. your moans were loud as they escaped your lips and filled the room, setting corio's skin on fire. sweat dripped down from his brow and down his neck to mingle with yours as your second orgasm of the evening began to approach. it snapped the rubber band in your lower belly and you immediately sobbed into corio's neck. his hips continued to rut in you, forcing you down onto the bed as he swallowed all of your sobs for himself. your nails dug into his back and down his spine, hoping to rip parts from him that he had taken from you.

when corio came, you were in a stupor. cock drunk with your mouth hanging open, dazed. when corio came, one of his hands grabbed your messy pile of hair, wrenching at the roots. he pulled you to the side to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as he pumped your cunt full of his cum. your walls were hot and sticky, full of him, but it only caused the most sickeningly warm feeling to spread throughout you. every primal need of yours was satisfied, and corio could see every bit of it on your face. the pride that welled within your husband... shameful. no man should be in possession of such an ego boost like making the prettiest, more desired woman in all of panem break from all bounds of social etiquette. you were warm, and wet, and craving every bit of his touch, so he couldn't deny you... not anymore. not when he felt the same. with each sob that left your mouth, he felt a kick in the pit of his stomach as his balls throbbed. never in his life had a woman ripped from him what he had taken from her, cheeks hot and muscles worn out.

he would regret it in the morning, maybe, but not now. no — not now.

"husband, forgive me, but..." you spoke. "my mind is a mess. i don't think i can read to you this evening."

corio rolled his eyes and laughed. "that good?"

you pressed a kiss to his lips as you hummed in approval. "never wait that long to bed your wife again."

he chuckled darkly. "watch it, sweetheart."

---

love u guys sm sorry it was so long ty for reading love u love u love u

-L xooxoxooxox