#mark: youre just his little kept wife!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wifeyoozi · 7 months ago

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Jeon Wonwoo : zip it, strip it

w.c : 2.2 k ┊ synopsis : Wonwoo can't stand his roommate's progressively slutty online shipped clothes anymore┊ content warning : smut , friends to lovers, slight degradation (/slutshaming?) kink, unprotected sex (wrap the willy guys) , Lazada shopping , big dick wonu agenda , reader has slight size kink , oral + fingering (f rec)

a/n : mdni !! not completely beta read and still a little sloppy (the smut part) 😭

Wonwoo knows he is losing his mind. And it was solely and entirely because of you.

You, his roommate, best friend, and for quite a while now, his one-sided love.

Wonwoo wasn't exactly the most extroverted person. So the way you two became friends was only because you had once stumbled whole ten minutes late to the lecture in your first year college days once, and sat beside him for it was the only empty seat. And somehow you had engaged him in a conversation. And then somehow you had started sitting beside him everyday for the next four years. And then somehow you had just embedded yourself in his life (and heart) like that.

The reason you two decided to get one apartment together was because how much money you could save from rent and groceries with that. And it be fun. Of course it was your idea and your words. But Wonwoo was a sucker in love and he'd blindly agreed for it.

It was a little awkward at first. You always tried to keep your stuff to yourself and not make a mess of the whole house and not indulge too much in Wonwoo's personal space, knowing he was the one who loved to keep to himself.

But the initial formalities wore off eventually. It started with forgetting a half empty coffee mug on the coffee table, no coaster. And then leaving your books on the couch, promising to pick up later to never really doing it. And then mixing your clothes with Wonwoo's in the laundry basket.

But Wonwoo didn't mind any of it.

All of it was just so ... Domestic.

It almost felt like he was married to you. And as much as he tried to stop himself from indulging too much in that thought, it always creeped back up in his mind everytime you fell asleep on his shoulder after your routines sunday movie nights.

His ears grew red everytime he thought of it - you as his wife, in your little home.

And that's the whole problem. You kept making him have fantasies about things he knew he could never have. But he just couldn’t stop.

His patience had really only been tested since very recently. You had recently come across Lazada - the wondrous online shopping platform for cheap and the poor people. “Look the prices are so less, wonu-ya! For a dress that cute!” you’d exclaimed that day, bouncing as you showed him the phone with the lazada tab opened,a cute pink floral summer dress on display. “And the first order has free shipping!”

A few dresses had arrived and wonwoo saw you try out the new clothes one after the other, most of them perfectly fitting your figure. He loved seeing you smile like that, happy over getting good quality clothes at a lower price.

The real problem arose now.

The summer was getting only hotter. And Lazada was on your head like a fever. And you kept ordering increasingly more and more revealing clothes now.

Wonwoo told himself he didn't mind. You were not his something. You were not together. He shouldn’t be deciding what you wear.

But he also felt his jaw tighten everytime he saw you in a new and a more revealing dress ordered online. Saw you twirl on your toes as your little summer skirt flared, showing the sight of your safety shorts inside. Saw you wear a tight thigh-length shiny party dress when you went clubbing with your friends. Saw you sit on the couch with all of your friends in short denim shorts, riding up and up as you sat in all inappropriate positions.

He’s been trying to hold his thoughts a lot, he really is. But he has got a little bit of a limit too, and he really just wants nothing more than to put his teeth on your thighs and your neck and mark them up red and blue. You really don’t know how much power you were holding onto him.

But thats not even all of it.

Since it was summer, you had decided to roam around the house in little satin negligees. Fucking negligees.

The first time you wore it, wonwoo had to stop breathing and take hold of every muscle in his body to not get embarrassingly hard in front of you. It was so tiny, it was just like a little piece of cloth clinging on you. You had given him a little twirl show, “isn’t it so cute? I love its pink colour so much!”

Wonwoo itched to tear the pretty pink off you.

He didn’t though. Because he had a little self-restrain left in him.

He wondered if you were really as innocent as you acted or did you know the effect you had on him. He was a man after all. He swears its like you know how big a crush he has on you. You are just playing with him too much.

Thankfully you didnt wear negligees more often after that, at least when he was at home.

Right now, wonwoo is opening the door to your apartment slowly. It's quite late, he doesn't want to wake you up accidentally.

“Wonu-ya!” you call out from inside your room, “Wonu-ya, ah, great you're home! Can you come in for a bit, please? I need some help.”

Wonwoo hums, taking off his bag on the couch and going inside your room to see what you possibly needed help with and-

His breath stopped, eyes dilating, starting to feel his pants tightening a little.

You were wearing a lacy sheer negligee. Again. And it was even more provocating than last time. It was a deep purple colour, contrasting perfectly with your pretty skin tone. Your bare back was completely exposed to him, your hair pulled aside over your shoulders and the dress completely unzipped. You were looking back at him, a hand reaching back in a way that your pose wasn’t helping making it any less provocating. Your legs were slightly spread on the bed, your silky thighs on perfect view for him with your night shorts fitting you like underwear.

“Wonu-ya, can you help me zip? I can’t reach it!” you pout at him, your lips looking glossed up and puckered out and he wanted nothing more than kiss and bite them red.

No way he was misinterpreting this, no way you were not doing this on purpose.

“y/n, do you realise i am a man?” he wasn’t growling, but he was holding the urge of it.

“Hm, i know,” you say, looking at him with big not-so-innocent eyes, “but i trust you!”

So wonwoo gulps down, and sits behind you on the bed, beginning to zip your dress up. The lace hugs you tighter as he does, highlighting your delicate curves and features. You feel so small under his dark gaze, his big hands could hold the entirety of your waist. He can see your colourbones from this angle and he just wants to bite and kiss all over them so bad.

He unknowingly rests his hands on the curve of your back. His heart is beating loudly, he could feel it in his ears. You lean back into his touch like a satisfied cat.

“y/n,” his voice is angry and restrained, “what are you trying to do?”

You sigh, looking back at him, your gaze seductive from under your dark lashes, “are you really asking? Do i have to say it out for you?”

The grip on your hips tightens. “Are you sure about it?”

More and more you act up like this, more and more he feels like a lusty caveman with no coherent thoughts in his mind other than those of desire. He took a heavy breath as you twisted your your waist to look back at him, your hand snaking up to rest on his chest. He glanced down at your hand, and then involuntarily at your cleavage visible from the thing your call a dress.

“Oh, for fucks sake, Wonwoo, I have not been whoring myself out like this for you to not fuck me!”

“Mark your words,” that was the last sane thing Wonwoo would speak that night before crashing his lips with yours.

You moaned immediately, feeling his rough lips fight against your softer ones. You climbed on his lap, feeling his hardness pushing against your thighs immediately. He kisses you intensely and aggressively, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His mind was fogging up, intoxicated by your taste. Your strawberry lip gloss was on his lips and on his tongue and your arms were tight around his neck, one hand tangled in his hair, playing and pulling it.

The more sounds you made into the kiss, the harder his bulge pressed against you. You pull away momentarily, catching your breath and panting. His glasses were fogged up.

“Shit, Wonwoo, what fucking monster are hiding in those pants,” you mumbled, looking down to his crotch and reaching to touch him, but he holds your wrist before you could.

“You did this to me, baby,” he said, pulling off his glasses, not caring to even see where he threw them, “and I'm gonna make you take care of it.”

You knew how strong Wonwoo was just by looking at his big and built body. But you didn't realise how much that would help making you wetter as he manhandled you and pinned you down on the bed. Both of his knees encaged your hips, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off swiftly.

You chest faltered looking at his gorgeous body. It's not the first time you had seen him shirtless - y'all have had enough beach trips in your friendship for that. But this was different, you could thirst over him now, touch him and feel him up. Besides, he'd built up so much more than when you had last seen his naked torso the time y'all went to pool together.

You mumbled a fuck under your breath, your hand reaching to touch his abs. He chuckled. “Like what you see, huh?”,

Wonwoo doesn't give you a chance to answer, holds your wrist down and hold you down as he attacked your lips with his once again. You whined in his mouth, and that just made him kiss you deeper, hotter, wetter. His kisses went south to your jaw, down your neck. He nipped on the sweet skin of the crook of your neck, sucking and biting and bruising it. Marking it. Marking you.

His hands left your wrists to travel across your body, slipping under your dress and touching your warm waist. His hands are cold against your skin. You hear a tssrrt, and you look down to see Wonwoo ripping off your slip dress, and pulling it apart to expose your bare breasts to the cold air.

He tears apart from neck to look at your tits, and you feel your nipples harden under his gaze. He licks his lips vilely, before grabbing your boobs in his hands. He shoved his face in between the valley of your boobs, taking a breath full of your scent there before taking out his tongue and devouring you like a starved animal.

He looked up at you like that.

And his once so innocently handsome face looking so damn sinful right now, his eyes staring at your with deep lust. “I can't even count the number of times I've secretly oggled at these beautiful things, wanting to do all the ungodly stuff with them. Fuck, y/n.”

You moaned as he took your right nipple in his mouth, sucking harshly as his hands reach to play with your left. Your hands snake up his hair, clutching a handful, tugging it.

You gasp when his hand suddenly slipped down your shorts and panties, touching the skin right above your cunt. “shit, wonu!”

“Fucking slut,” Wonwoo mumbled against your skin, “making me desperate for you for so long, just because you're a cockslut.”

“Only for you,” you mutter under your breath, as Wonwoo's fingers inch downwards.

Wonwoo chuckles, “say that again, baby,”

“I am only your cockslut, Wonwoo,” you said, face red with shame and lust.

Wonwoo chuckled more as he dipped his fingers between your folds at those words. You let out a loud and erotic moan, legs clenching reflexively. Wonwoo played around the sensitive skin for a while before he found the throbbing bundle of nerves which got him the reaction from you which he was waiting for.

His fingers continued to rub over your clit in circular motion, lips moving downwards to kiss and lick and nipples at the skin of your belly. He managed to make the entirety of your torso cover in his spit in absolutely no time. “Lift, babe."

He pulled your shorts and your panties off your legs in one swift motion. Your legs shyly closed instinctively, but Wonwoo spread them back apart by you knees, “oh, you're shy now?”

He didn't expect a reply, diving into the heat between your legs. He kisses your inner thighs and your outer folds and gave your clitoris a few kitten licks, making you moan like a bitch in heat. He shoved his tongue in your hole, licking up your juices like a starved child.

“Fuck, you're so damn tasty, my love,” he mumbles as he explores your cunt with his tongue. You yelp at how deep his tongue reaches inside you, tickling against your g-spot.

You pull his face away with all of your strength when you feel the tension in your lower abdomen starting to build, “fuck, wonu stop,”

He stops immediately, looking up at you with concern for second, “shit, baby, I'm sorry, did i overstep-”

“No,” you interrupt, too desperate, “no, wonu. I, uh, i am close, but I don't wanna cum like this,” you say shyly, watching the concern in Wonwoo's eyes turn into the dark lust again, “fuck, I want to cum on your cock, Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo smirked. “Scared me there, baby, and all for a cock? You want my cock, yeah? I'll give you some.” Wonwoo unzipped his jeans and wriggled out of them and his boxers, freeing his red angry cock which slapped against his toned stomach.

Your mouth watered at the sight. You just didn't happen to be kidding when you called that thing a fucking monster. You reached out to touch it but he slapped your hand away. Wonwoo pumped his dick a few times, coating it with your slick on his fingers, before lining it with your hole, wasting no time.

He trusted in deep, making you let out a choked sound. You winced at the initial sting as Wonwoo waited a second in you to let you get used to his size. He pulled out slowly, leaving only his top inside, before hammering back in, making you moan again.

He did it a few times before catching a stable pace, and you felt the coil in your stomach form again already. “ahh, wonu, need you to touch me,”

“Shit, nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Always begging and whining for more,” Wonwoo said, marking his sentence with a slap on your thighs before reaching his fingers to play with your clit, flickering and fondling it between his index and middle.

He bent down to kiss you again. You grabbed his broad muscular shoulders, your nails digging in as you reached nearer to your climax. It seemed so did Wonwoo, by the way his breath hitched in your mouth.

“Fuck, princess, where do I come?” Wonwoo muttered in your mouth.

You grabbed onto him tightly, legs squealing his hips as you were just on the book, “inside me? You could do that, I have the morning-after pills.”

You feel Wonwoo hum in your mouth as he increased his pace again, chasing both your orgasms.

You reach your high first, vision whitening and body going limp at the sensation, feeling the happy harmones release in your veins. Wonwoo comes soon after - you involuntarily spasming around his dick giving just the right amount of stimuli for him to cum deep in you, his semen hot inside.

He pulled out, hissing a little, and fell on the bed beside you. You rolled over lazily by his side, dumping your arm around his chest and resting your head on his shoulder. He scoots closer, cuddling you in.

“Shit, that was so…” you didn't even have enough words to describe a sex that good.

Wonwoo chuckled a little. “I tore your new dress, sorry for that.”

“Don't worry about it,” you giggle, “Lazada has a new sale coming. I'll buy many more for you to tear in the future.”

#svt #seventeen #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo smut #wonu #wonu smut

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seospicybin · 29 days ago

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TILL DEATH DO US PART.

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Synopsis: You and Minho head to a cabin for a weekend getaway but beneath the seemingly normal relationship, both harbor dark secrets and hidden desires to end the marriage by any means necessary. (13,1k words)

Author's note: Happy birthday to the poster boy to my spooky Halloween fics, Lee Know 🦇

Content warning: Violence, graphic imagery, blood, toxic romance. Readers discretion is advised!

Minho wants to kill you.

He’s reached the point where he can no longer tolerate you. You've crossed the line of things you shouldn’t do and checked off every item that finally leads him to this decision: he wants to kill you. He carefully crafts a plan, asking himself all the basic questions.

What? A plan to kill you.

Minho has been holding back his rage, but it keeps mounting and mounting. He believes that ending your life will release it all, finally bringing him peace. He thinks of it as a purge, sending you to your demise to purify his soul.

Who? It’s you.

You'll be the victim of his plan. His wife, the one he no longer wants to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish. But the ‘till death do us part’—he’ll gladly do that himself, with his own bare hands.

And it’s him who's going to kill you.

Minho considered hiring a contract killer—it would’ve been easy, and he could have kept his hands clean. But the little compassion he has left for you tells him this needs to be done personally, and in private. No one has to know the terrible things you've done to make him want to kill you.

As a husband, the least he can do is protect your dignity as his wife.

And as a killer, he’ll try to make it quick and painless.

When? This weekend.

Last night, before bed, he told you he wanted to spend the weekend together. You didn’t ask why, just agreed right away. You needed time away to memorize and practice your lines for the short film you’ll be starring in at the end of the month.

Minho has barely begun but his plan is already in motion.

Minho sees you lugging a duffel bag in one hand and your purse in the other. Without hesitation, he strides over to help.

“Let me take that,” he offers, snatching the duffel from your hand.

You flash him a smile and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

While you settle into the car, Minho places your duffel in the trunk next to his own bag. He unzips his bag briefly to double-check the contents: all the tools he needs for the weekend—sharp, heavy, and metallic—gleam in the sunlight as it hits them. He zips it up and slams the trunk shut, ready for the three-hour drive ahead.

You, already comfortable in the passenger seat, put on your sunglasses and prop your feet against the dashboard. Flipping through the script in your lap, you chew gum obnoxiously, popping bubbles every few minutes, each burst louder than the last.

“There are snacks in the backseat,” Minho says, hoping to distract you from the gum.

You turn just enough to see the stash of chips, drinks, and bottles of wine. Supplies he bought for the weekend in the cabin. Without much interest, you go back to reading.

“I bought your favorite,” he tries again.

“I concentrate better when I’m chewing gum,” you respond flatly, flipping the page.

Minho grits his teeth but stays silent. You hear the scoff he doesn’t manage to suppress.

Dropping your feet to the floor, you snap the script closed, marking your place with a finger. Turning toward him slightly, you say, “It’s scientifically proven that chewing gum improves concentration in visual memory tasks. Surprised you didn’t know that, being a doctor and all.”

Though you aren’t looking, he knows you're wearing that condescending smile, the one that implies you’re smarter than him. It’s a look he’s grown used to over the years, but today it grates more than ever.

Minho’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel. He fights the urge to jerk the wheel into a tree—just one hard turn would wipe that smug grin off your face. But no, that’s too messy and he’s not ready to blow his plan just yet.

He inhales deeply to steady his nerves. “What kind of movie are you working on this time?” he asks, pretending to show interest.

You raise a brow at his sudden curiosity but answer anyway. “It’s a thriller.”

“What’s it about?” Minho presses, not because he cares, but because he needs to keep you talking. Anything to shut you up about the gum.

“A girl gets kidnapped and held in a basement,” you explain briefly, scribbling notes in your script.

Minho forces himself to feign interest. "And what’s the catch?"

You plainly chuckle. "Like I’m going to spoil it for you."

"Because I probably won’t get to see it anyway," he retorts with a laugh, the irony not lost on him—after all, you won’t be around to finish it.

You sigh but eventually give in. "The girl tries to make her captor fall in love with her."

Minho holds back a laugh. He already knows it's going to be another bad movie. Lucky for you, he’ll be saving you from further embarrassment.

"Let me guess. You’re going to get naked again?" he asks, sneering.

Your deep, frustrated sigh is all the confirmation he needs. “So what if I am? It’s my body.”

He shrugs, eyes fixed on the road. “Sure, but haven’t you done it enough already? That’s like what… your fifth movie in a row?”

Your pencil scratches violently across the page. “Are you bored of my tits now?”

Minho stays silent, gripping the wheel tighter. Your next comment stings more than you know.

“Remember when you used to be obsessed with them? Oh, wait—when was the last time you even touched me?” You sneer, adding a little “tch” at the end of your sentence that makes his blood boil.

He once again pictures slamming on the brakes, imagining your pencil impaled your eye. But no. He breathes deeply and reminds himself that you’ll be gone soon enough.

“I need to pee,” you grumble, shifting in your seat.

“We’re almost there. Hold it,” he snaps, not caring about your discomfort.

“I'll pee in the car then,” you retort, already unbuttoning your jeans.

With an exasperated sigh, Minho jerks the car into a sudden U-turn, sending your head against the window. He pulls into a gas station, parking roughly by the entrance.

“Go ahead. Do your business.”

You storm out of the car, slamming the door behind you as you head inside. After a few minutes, Minho watches as you return from the restroom, only to stop and flirt with the cashier.

He taps the steering wheel impatiently, his eyes narrowing as he sees you and the cashier sharing a laugh. His patience runs thin, and before long, he exits the car, marching over to you.

"Let’s go," he growls, grabbing your hand.

You pull away, smirking. "Let him guess first."

"Guess what?"

The cashier laughs, clearly amused. "Trying to guess which movie I’ve seen her in," he explains.

You lean against the counter, offering the man a flirty smile. "I’ll give you a hint. It has something to do with the color blue."

Minho’s eyes darken, his anger bubbling beneath the surface, he knows exactly that you’re doing this just to annoy him.

The man’s face lights up as he gets the answer, "Blue Daisy!"

You clap softly and smile brightly, "That’s right! What did you think of my tits in that movie?"

The cashier falters, his smile faltering as he glances nervously at Minho. "Pardon?"

"Oh, come on. There's a scene where I take off my bathrobe," you tease, toying with the lighters on the counter.

"They’re... nice," the man replies and then looks away, clearly uncomfortable.

You sigh dramatically, glancing at Minho as you say, "Apparently, my husband doesn’t think so."

The cashier looks at Minho in disbelief. "You’re married?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you answer with a fake, sad smile.

Minho takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, he grabs you hand tighter and asks, "Are you done?"

You yank your hand away and brush past him, your shoulder grazing his as you head back to the car.

Just a few more hours, he reminds himself. Soon, it’ll all be over.

Now that you've known the who, the what and the when. The next question is where?

The cabin looms in the distance, nestled deep within the woods by the lake. As he gets out the car, Minho takes in the familiar sight—the water reflecting the afternoon sun, the towering trees surrounding the cabin, the peace and quiet. It’s secluded, far from the rest of the world.

You get out of the car and head straight for the trunk to collect your things.

"I’ll take the bags inside," Minho says, rushing over before you can lift the trunk lid, "Just grab the groceries from the backseat "

Shrugging, you open the back door and gather the bags of groceries, holding them against your chest. You don’t ask questions, not when you’ve been here so many times before. You punch in the code to retrieve the key from the safety box, opening the cabin door with ease.

Minho stands by the car for a moment, breathing in the last of the summer air before the season shifts. He pauses, scanning the quiet surroundings, appreciating how isolated it all feels.

No neighbors. No signal. Just the lake, the trees, and the silence.

It’s perfect.

Minho drags all of your things and his inside, then drops them in the living room. He’s greeted by the musty air of a cabin that hasn’t been lived in for over a month, and the dusty framed photos on top of the fireplace—his family, his parents, a childhood snapshot, and one of the two of you spending a week here for an extra honeymoon.

He remembers taking the picture with his phone, the two of you looking so happy lying in the hammock together, your heads resting against each other. Your hair was still its natural color back then, before you bleached it for the movie role.

What he doesn’t remember is how in love he was—why he decided to marry you. His eyes, once filled with affection, now only see hatred and resentment, two black orbs filled with void.

The sound of rustling plastic snaps him out of his thoughts, and his gaze shifts to your figure in the kitchen, tossing expired food into a trash bag.

Before you can notice, Minho silently takes the small duffel bag into the basement, placing it next to the cupboard where the hunting rifles are stored.

When he returns, you’re still in the kitchen, unpacking groceries. He gathers the remaining bags to take upstairs, but as his foot lands on the first step, you call for him.

“Are you going to cook dinner?” you ask, filling a pitcher with tap water.

“Yes. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he replies without looking.

Minho drops everything in the corner of the bedroom, noticing your makeup bag already by the sink in the bathroom. He changes his clothes quickly before heading back downstairs to cook, just like he promised. He starts preparing dinner, laying out the ingredients on the counter. While seasoning the tenderloins with salt and pepper, he watches you chop vegetables at the other end.

“You have to cut them thinner,” he says.

“What difference does it make?” you mutter, ignoring him.

Minho carefully lays the tenderloins on the hot pan, the meat sizzling as it hits the metal. “Watch the meat,” he says, swapping tasks with you and taking over the vegetable chopping.

He notices you eye roll as you reluctantly take his place by the stove. After a while, you attempt to flip the steaks and he quickly stops you.

“It’s not ready yet!” he snaps.

You immediately throw your hands up in defeat while still holding the wooden spatula in one, “You know what? I’ll just wait at the table, drinking wine,” you say, this time making no effort to hide your eye roll.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you suggest dining on the back patio, where the sunset offers its best view, even though the air is getting cooler.

It’s always been like this—sitting far apart, the space between you thick with dead air. You both eat in silence, sipping your wine.

Minho remembers that tonight possibly will be your last so he decides to start a conversation.

“How’s the script going?” he asks, wiping the sauce off his plate with the last piece of meat.

“Going well,” you reply curtly, licking your lips.

Minho leans back in his chair. “Who’s that guy… the one helping with your acting?”

You pull your jacket tighter against the cool wind. “Ryan?”

“Yeah, him,” Minho says, taking a sip of his wine. “You’re not working with him for your next role?”

“He’s busy with other things,” you answer, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Minho stabs a piece of carrot with his fork. “So, you’re not the only one he’s… working with?”

You stop eating abruptly and look at him, “Pardon?”

“He’s working with other actors too, right?”

“Well, yeah, it’s his job,” you reply, more casually this time.

As the last rays of sunlight hit you, casting a golden glow like a halo, Minho feels a pang of something. Sadness, maybe. He’s certain it’ll be the last time he sees you on this light so he takes it all in.

Soon, you catch him staring. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” he simply answers with a cryptic smile.

Your eyes meet for a moment and Minho searches for something in your gaze, some lingering emotion, but the gaze doesn't last long enough for him to know for sure as you look away.

After dinner, you both sit in the living room, playing a quiet game of chess. The ticking of the old clock fills the silence as Minho watches you fall into the trap he’s set. It’s ironically fitting, like you’re handing him your life, allowing him to end it with a simple move of the black knight.

“I won,” he says, a faint smile of triumph on his lips.

You don’t respond but instead, draining your wine in one gulp. “I’m tired,” you sigh.

As Minho packs away the chess pieces, he throws a smug comment your way. “You always get tired when you lose.”

You ignore him, heading to the kitchen to leave your glass in the sink and head upstairs.

Once you're out of sight, Minho makes another trip to the basement, unlocking the cupboard with the hidden key. Inside, he finds the hunting rifle. It’s been a while, but he still remembers how to use it.

Loading two shells into the chamber, he clicks it shut and for a second, he feels tempted to fire a shot just for the thrill, but that would ruin the surprise so he tucks the rifle back into the cupboard and turns off the lights as he heads upstairs.

When he gets to the bedroom, the bed is empty. He hears the water running—you're probably halfway through your skincare routine. He changes into sleepwear and lies down, charging his phone even though the reception is useless here.

The rustling of leaves outside is the only sound he's hearing until Minho begins to drift off. Just then, he feels a kiss on his cheek.

His eyes flutter open, and he finds you leaning over him, your lips brushing against his. The kiss is long and lingering, your hand gently cradling his face.

When you pull back, you smile softly. “Goodnight, honey.”

For a moment, Minho says nothing, watching as you turn and lie down, your back to him. A strange feeling twists in his chest—a hesitation he hasn’t felt in a long time. The kiss... something about it felt different.

He shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as suspicion creeps in. Was it genuine, or was it part of your own plan? For a second, he wavers, doubt gnawing at the edges of his resolve. Could you really be so oblivious to what’s coming? Or are you hiding something, just like him? He clenches his jaw, forcing the thought away.

It’s too late for second-guessing now. Still, as he stares at your back, he can’t shake the lingering sense that maybe, just maybe, you're not as unsuspecting as you seem.

The next day, the cabin is flooded with golden rays as the sun rises high in the sky. Minho stands by the kitchen window, washing the breakfast dishes, his eyes following you as you sway gently in the hammock, engrossed in your script.

He finishes quickly and heads to the back door, pausing in the doorway as he calls your name.

You turn your head slightly. “What?”

“I’m going for a walk around the lake. You coming?” he asks, though he already knows the answer. It’s just for show, a part of the performance, to keep suspicion at bay.

“No, thank you,” you reply, turning your attention back to the script.

Perfect. It’s exactly the answer he wanted. Everything is going according to plan.

As he steps outside, Minho's eyes dart back toward the hammock, checking to see if you’re watching. From a distance, he can still see the top of your head peeking over the edge, unmoving. Satisfied, he walks toward the shed, retrieving a small bag before starting his trek around the lake.

As he jogs along the edge of the water, he scans the ground for the right kind of rock—one heavy enough for what he needs. He finds it near the water’s edge, half-covered in moss. It’s heavier than he expected, and he has to flip it over with his foot before using both hands to hoist it into the bag.

His eyes drift back to the cabin, paranoid that you might somehow be following him. But no, you’re still in the hammock, or at least it seems that way.

He drags the bag back to the shed and hides it behind a stack of old tires. Everything is in place. Just one more thing to prepare—but he realizes he forgot his car keys.

The whole morning slips by as he meticulously works on his plan and by the time he returns to the house, the hammock is empty, swaying lightly in the breeze. Your script book is left behind, pages fluttering in the wind.

Minho’s chest tightens with unease. He steps cautiously toward the front door, his senses heightened. “Honey?” he calls out, but there’s no reply.

He steps inside, the air thick with tension. “Honey?” he repeats, louder this time, his voice echoing in the silence.

In the kitchen, he spots you standing behind the island, your back to him.

“Honey?” he says again, his tone more uncertain now.

You turn slowly, and that’s when he sees it—the gleam of a knife in your hand. The blade catches the light, sending a sharp reflection into his eyes.

A jolt of panic surges through him. His plan was flawless. But somehow, he hadn’t accounted for this—the possibility that you knew. And if you knew, he was already doomed.

He swallows hard, trying to think of something to say. “What are you doing?”

Without a word, you turn back to the counter, your hands moving in a way he can’t fully see. He takes a cautious step back, bracing himself for a sudden attack.

But instead, you turn around holding a head of lettuce. “I’m making sandwiches for lunch,” you say innocently, setting the vegetable down on the chopping board with a loud thud.

Relief floods through him, and he lets out a low breath, clearing his throat to mask his moment of weakness. “Sounds good,” he comments, though his voice lacks conviction.

You calmly slice the lettuce, your knife moving with unsettling precision. “Were you looking for me?”

The question jolts him, reminding him of his real purpose. “Uh… yeah, I was looking for my car keys,” he says quickly, scrambling for an excuse. “I left my charger in the glove box.”

You glance up from the chopping board, still holding the knife in one hand. “You can use mine. It’s upstairs by the bedside table.”

There’s something in your smile—a strange, almost sinister edge that makes his skin crawl. Like you know something he doesn’t.

“No, I’ll use mine. It’s more convenient,” he says, forcing a polite smile, though inside, every instinct tells him to leave. Now.

You hold his gaze for a moment too long before turning to the fridge. “It’s on the hook next to the boat keys,” you reply, slicing open a pack of bacon with a swift flick of the knife.

“Thanks,” he mutters, backing away.

He doesn’t waste another second. Grabbing the car keys, he heads for the door, but then you call his name, stopping him in his tracks. He turns, his heart thudding in his chest. You stand in the middle of the room, a strange smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice tight.

“Lunch will be ready soon,” you say, still smiling that unsettling smile.

Minho nods, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that lingers. He hasn’t seen you smile this much in a long time, and it’s not even noon yet. It’s unnerving, like you’re doing it to make him feel guilty. Like you’re daring him to go through with his plan.

Minho decides to proceed with caution.

The little smile you gave him earlier is enough to put him on edge, so he takes a seat on the stool, eyes fixed on you as you meticulously prepare his sandwich. You slice it in half and place it in front of him. He doesn’t hesitate to eat it, knowing that he hasn’t taken his eyes off the process. This way, he’s sure you haven’t tampered with his lunch.

"Good?" you ask, watching him closely.

He chews, waiting for any signs of something off in his body, but nothing happens.

"It’s good," he replies, nodding.

You smile, then sip your orange juice, making a little gasp of satisfaction. "Orange juice?" you offer, holding up the pitcher.

"Sure," he says.

You get a clean glass from the cabinet, which checks off another one of his worries. He saw you drink from the same juice, and the glass is fresh. No reason to suspect anything, right? Maybe you’re still unaware, and things are still going according to his plan.

"You’re not eating?" he asks, testing the waters.

You finish your glass and shake your head. "I’m still full from the smoothie I had earlier."

You walk over, placing a hand on his shoulder, then gliding it to the back of his neck, massaging gently. "I’m going to take a long bath," you say, smiling down at him.

"Okay," he mutters, looking up.

You lean down, brushing your lips against his in a brief kiss. "Enjoy your lunch."

This is the perfect opportunity.

Minho only manages to finish half of the sandwich before draining his glass of orange juice, feeling a bit parched from all the work he’s been doing since the morning. He heads down to the basement, ripping open a bag full of tools. He picks the hammer, gripping it tightly in his right hand.

As he makes his way upstairs, he marvels at how smoothly everything is going. If he manages to bash your head in the bathroom, he doesn't need to worry about the mess. The only challenge is getting your body downstairs, but that’s a problem for after.

Right now, all he has to do is get in there and deliver the fatal blow.

But as he climbs the final stairs, his vision blurs, and his limbs grow heavy. He tries to shake it off, widening his eyes and slapping his cheek to wake himself up. It must be the adrenaline, right? That’s why he feels so lightheaded.

He reaches the bathroom, hearing the water running and your soft humming. The door is left ajar, steam wafting out. Minho peeks in and sees you sitting on the edge of the tub, still in your bathrobe, one side slipping off your shoulder.

Slowly, he pushes the door open just enough to slip inside. The sink is cluttered with your things—makeup, a toothbrush, and what he assumes is some spilled powder from your makeup routine.

Confident you can’t see him through the fogged mirror, he raises the hammer above his head, ready to strike. Suddenly, his legs give out, and he stumbles backward, the hammer slipping from his grasp, then clatters to the floor.

You whip your head around, startled, and see him crumpling against the bathroom wall. Squatting down in front of him, you say softly, "Honey?"

Minho fights to open his eyes, but his body is shutting down against his will. "I’m—I…" he stammers.

You lean in, your forehead resting gently against his as you sigh. "Shh… it’s okay," you murmur, stroking his hair.

With one hand cupping his face, you look into his eyes, a sinister glint now replacing the warmth. "Just go to sleep," you say softly, your voice almost soothing.

Minho’s vision starts to fade, but he sees it in your eyes. You did this. "You—"

Before he can finish, everything goes black.

The sound of a knife scraping against the surface of a plate jolts Minho awake in the worst possible way.

Disoriented, he squints his eyes and realizes he's downstairs, seated at the dining table. You're sitting across from him, chewing on a piece of meat with a soft groan.

"I think I flipped it too early again," you mumble, dabbing your mouth with a napkin.

You look up from your food and gasp when you notice he's awake, "Honey!"

Grabbing the bottle of wine, you pour it into his glass, the intoxicating scent of it filling the room. "I'm sorry I started dinner without you."

Minho tries to move his hands but can't. He glances down to find them tied to the chair.

"Ah! Let me help you with that," you say, standing beside him as you unfold a napkin and spread it over his lap. You kiss him on the cheek, wiping away the lipstick mark with your thumb after.

"How was your nap?" You ask once you're settled back to your seat.

Minho glares, his nostrils flaring with the rage boiling inside him. He curses himself for letting his guard down, for believing things were going his way when they never did. Shaking the fog from his head, he focuses on you.

"Sleeping pills, huh?" His voice drips with disdain, realizing too late that the white powder he'd seen earlier wasn’t makeup—it was the remnants of crushed sleeping pills.

You don't answer, just sip your wine with a satisfied smile.

Minho scoffs, tossing his head back. "How clever!"

Refilling your glass, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"It wasn't the sandwich, not the juice..." He lets out a bitter laugh. "It was the glass."

You clink your wine glass against his with a smirk. "Almost got caught there, didn’t I?"

"So, you know," he mutters.

You set your glass down and rest your hands on the table, an innocent grin spreading across your face. "Know what?"

Minho’s dark eyes remain fixed on you, simmering with fury.

"I'll let you have your dinner later," you say, pushing his untouched plate to the side, clearing the center of the table.

You retrieve something from the chair beside you—a hammer. The same hammer he’d planned to use on you. You place it on the table between you both.

"Are you asking if I knew you were going to use this to smash my head in?"

Minho’s gaze flickers between the hammer and you.

You chuckle mockingly, hand pressed against your chest. "Thank God the pills kicked in just in time!"

Though not surprised, Minho wonders if you’ve uncovered his entire plan. As if reading his mind, you bend down and drag a duffel bag onto the table with a loud thud.

"Or are you asking if I knew about this?" you ask, emptying the contents—rope, duct tape, a blade, a wrench, a saw, and an axe—spreading them across the table like hardware on display.

Sitting back down, you examine the tools with a smile. "You’re thorough, I’ll give you that."

"You know I never do things half-heartedly," he replies, voice laced with sarcasm.

Your laughter echoes around the room. "And look what I found," you say, lifting his hunting rifle, pointing it directly at him with your finger hovers dangerously close to the trigger. "It’s loaded."

Minho’s calm exterior falters. He knows all too well that he loaded that rifle himself. How fitting it would be for him to die by his own hand.

"BANG!" You shout, trying to startle him, but he doesn't flinch.

Your laughter fades as you lower the rifle, setting it aside. You cross your arms, eyes studying him intently and he can sense the curiosity swirling in your mind.

"Go ahead," he taunts, leaning forward as much as he can. "Ask your question."

You trace the rim of your wine glass with your finger. "So, that's the plan? To kill me?"

He tilts his head, eyes burning with intensity. "Yes."

"Let's say you manage to knock me out with the hammer..." You cut a piece of meat and continue eating. "What happens next?"

Minho stays silent, watching as you play this little guessing game.

You raise a hand before he can speak. "Wait, wait, wait, let me guess."

You chew faster, sipping your wine between thoughts and begin guessing his whole plan. "You wouldn’t kill me with the hammer—too messy. Too much work. And definitely not upstairs. It would be a hassle dragging my body down."

You glance at the ropes on the table and continue, "You’d tie me up once I was unconscious. Then, once secured, you’d get to work."

Your hand hovers over the tools spread on the table. "As for the weapon of choice..." You pick up the blade, testing its sharp edge with a playful gasp. "Ouch. This would’ve made it fun for you."

Minho’s lips twitch into a small, sinister smile.

"But no," you continue, setting the blade down and then you point at the rifle. "You’d use this. Quick. Easy."

"Exactly," he admits, slightly impressed by how well you know him.

Your eyes drift toward the saw next as you continue talking. "And the saws... well, those would be for afterward. To dismember me, right? You’d chop me into little pieces and dump me in the lake."

Minho raises an eyebrow, impressed. You got most of it right. The how.

"Did I guess correctly?" you ask, tilting your head.

He nods slowly in approval. "I’d applaud, but..." he glances at his tied hands.

You clink your glass with his. "See? I’ve learned a lot in our marriage."

As you sip your wine, he asks the one question still lingering in the space between. "Aren’t you going to ask why?"

You pause mid-sip, placing your glass down before pulling a handgun from your bag.

Minho’s breath catches in his throat. You want him dead just as much as he wants you gone.

"Because we hate each other enough to kill," you say, placing the gun next to your plate. But you rummage in your bag again and pull out a letter—divorce papers. Sliding them toward him, you add, "Or, we could avoid the drama. Sign this, and I’m gone. Forever."

Without hesitation, Minho shakes his head. Strongly refuses to do it any other way.

"Why not?" you ask, brows furrowed.

"I need to kill you," he says, voice unwavering.

You burst out laughing. "You hold that many grudges, huh?"

He doesn’t answer. His silence speaks volumes.

Sighing, you try to reason again. "I’ll disappear. You won’t even know I exist."

Minho leans forward, his voice a low growl. "I have to be the one to do it."

You shiver despite yourself. His intensity is chilling, but you remind yourself that he’s tied up, unable to do anything.

"You're a doctor, Minho. You know you're supposed to save life not—"

"I have to kill you," he cuts you off, nostrils flaring, eyes burning with determination.

Realizing there's no convincing him, you slide the gun back into your bag and put it on your lap. "I don't care if you sign the papers or not."

You take your wedding ring off and put it on top of the papers, making a bold statement. You stand, walking to his chair and then leaning close to plant a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Good luck with everything," you whisper, knowing those words will provoke him further.

As you head for the door, bag slung over your shoulder, he calls after you. His voice echoing against the eerie silence.

"I’ll find you... and I’ll kill you," he screams as he fights his way out of the bind. "Do you fucking hear me?"

As you set one foot out of the door, Minho screams one last time, "IF I CAN’T HAVE YOU, NO ONE CAN!"

You break into a run toward the car and with your heart pounding, you shove the key into the ignition and twist it, the car sputtering to life. Relief floods your body for a moment as the engine hums beneath you, and you slam your foot on the gas.

The car lurches forward, gravel crunching under the tires as you speed away from the cabin. But the relief is short-lived.

After just a few yards, the engine sputters and dies. Panic grips you as the car slows to a stop, and your hands tremble as you frantically try to restart it. You twist the key over and over, forcing the ignition, but the engine won’t turn over.

“Come on… come on!” you mutter desperately, glancing into the rearview mirror, afraid that Minho somehow break away and chase after you.

You continue to restart the car engine but it still won't turn on, you slam your hands on the steering wheel out of frustration and reorganize your breath to let your brain able to work.

With your brain is well oxygenated, you start checking the car and that's when you see the gas gauge and the needle points to the E. Fuck! Minho must have drained the tank empty.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" You continuously scream in dread now but the real dread is glancing through rearview mirror and see the cabin door is open.

That’s when you see him.

Minho is storming out of the cabin, rifle in hand, his face a mask of cold determination. Your blood turns to ice. He’s coming for you, and you have no time.

"Shit!" you curse under your breath, your breath quickening. Abandoning the car, you fling the door open and bolt into the woods, legs trembling as you stumble over roots and uneven ground.

The sound of the rifle cracks through the air. You gasp, ducking as the bullet strikes a tree near you, splintering bark and sending shrapnel flying. Your heart nearly stops.

You pick up the pace, adrenaline coursing through your veins, but the forest floor is unforgiving. Your foot catches on something—a root, a rock, you don't know—and you crash to the ground with a hard thud, pain shooting through your body.

Before you can scramble back to your feet, Minho is already there. His heavy footsteps pound against the earth as he catches up, his presence looming over you. You try to crawl away, your muscles screaming, but his hands grab you from behind, yanking you around with brutal force.

“Got you,” he growls, his voice cold and menacing.

You barely have time to scream before his hands are wrapped around your neck, squeezing with a vicious intent. Your hands fly to his wrists, clawing and yanking at them, but he's too strong.

"Don’t worry, honey. I'm not going to kill you just yet."

He tightens his grip, cutting off your air supply. Panic floods your body as your vision begins to blur, your strength draining away with each passing second.

"I'm just going to stop the blood flow to the brain through constriction of the carotid arteries and..."

You kick, aimlessly hitting him, your movements growing weaker as the world around you starts to fade.

Minho’s face is the last thing you see before the darkness consumes you entirely.

A gasp escapes your lips as you regain consciousness, immediately followed by a coughing fit.

Disoriented and lightheaded, you try to sit up, only to realize your hands and feet are bound to the bed. The ropes burn against your skin as you thrash in place, but you’re held fast. Helplessly stuck, you let out a loud scream, frustration boiling over as your cries for help go unanswered.

"Is that the best you can do?"

Your head snaps to the side, eyes wide, to see Minho leering at you from across the room.

He’s rummaging through a duffel bag, calm as ever, his dark eyes glinting with malice. You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and only a rough cough escapes your lips.

Minho pulls something from his bag—a small, rectangular box. It looks like a jewelry box, but the careful way he places it beside your body tells you it contains something far from precious.

He stands at the foot of the bed, staring down at you with a mocking grin. "Comfortable?"

Your fury flares. You swallow hard, forcing your voice to work. "You should have told me you were into bondage," you sneer, eyes narrowing.

His laugh is deep, amused by your defiance. Without warning, he climbs onto the bed and sits between your open legs, his gaze locked with yours, making it impossible to escape his predatory stare. "Let’s make you even more comfortable," he says, a sinister smile creeping across his face.

With deliberate slowness, he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a pair of scissors. He places them on the bed next to the mysterious box, letting you get a good look, as if daring you to figure out his next move.

A slow sigh escapes his lips as his hand reaches for your face, fingers slipping into your hair. For a moment, you think he’s going to cut it, but instead, he brushes your damp hair to the side and he also wipes the sweat from your neck with the back of his hand.

"It’s hot, yeah?" he murmurs.

"Isn’t that why you married me? Because I’m hot," you bite back, glaring at him with all the hatred you can muster.

Minho laughs again, this time brushing more strands of hair away from your sweaty forehead. "A part of it, yeah," he shamelessly admits.

"What about the rest of it?" you ask, surprising yourself with your curiosity. You’ve never asked him that before; romance was never a part of your relationship.

Nothing about your marriage was romantic, not even from the start. One day, he asked you to marry him, and you said yes. No questions, no love stories. Just a quiet agreement. But over time, things soured, leading to this moment of bitter hostility.

"Do you really want to know?" Minho asks, his face hovering dangerously close to yours, his hand resting beside your head on the mattress.

"You’re going to kill me anyway, so why not?" you reply, a daring smile playing on your lips.

For a long moment, he simply stares at you, his knuckle lightly tracing the curve of your face. His eyes darken, as if he’s about to reveal something, but then he pulls away abruptly.

"You always make me forget what I’m about to do," he says, picking up the scissors again.

Your heart rate slows as he holds the scissors, doing nothing but staring at them, lost in thought. His eyes flicker to you, then to your chest, where he presses the flat edge of the scissors. You can feel the cold metal through your clothes, making the weight of the moment unbearable.

You believe his final weapon of choice is inside the box so the sight of the scissors doesn’t scare you. You suspect he’s just toying with you, testing your fear.

Suddenly, Minho drags the scissors up your chest until they reach the base of your throat. The metal’s coldness makes you instinctively gulp, your breath hitching in your throat. But you refuse to break. Your gaze meets his, unwavering, even though you know exactly what he intends to do.

Unexpectedly, Minho laughs again, pulling the scissors away from your throat. "This is why I married you," he says, placing a hand on your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart.

"You’re so calm," he muses, dragging the scissors lower, stopping at your thigh. He slides the hem of your dress between the blades. "Way too calm."

In one swift motion, he cuts through the fabric of your dress, the blades slicing up to your chest in one clean stroke. You stop breathing for a second, the fear catching up to you, but you don’t let it show.

"And for a while, I was grateful to have you as a wife," he says coldly.

He moves the scissors to the side, cutting through the sleeves of your dress, leaving you in nothing but your damp underwear. You can’t tell if the sweat is from the stifling heat or the tension building inside you.

"But nothing good lasts, right?" he says, tossing the scissors and the torn dress to the floor.

Your heart skips a beat as his fingers ghost over your bare stomach, barely touching, but sending a shiver through your body.

"I’ll give you a chance to admit it yourself," he whispers, squeezing your hip.

You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you refuse to give in. You won’t hand him that satisfaction. "I have nothing to say to you."

Minho expected that response. He’s always loved your rebellious streak. With a shrug, he turns to the mysterious box beside you. He picks it up, opens it, and without showing you the contents, he says, "Maybe this will help carve the truth out of you."

Your heart races with anticipation, both curious and terrified. His eyes sparkle as he pulls the object from the box like a prized possession.

It’s a scalpel.

Not just any scalpel—a tool Minho is all too familiar with. He’s been using it for years in his line of work as a doctor, his hand accustomed to it, it's technically a part of his hand.

You let out a dark, low laugh, impressed by his choice of weapon. Not letting the fear take over you and give him the satisfaction.

"You think this is funny?" He asks, his voice low and dangerous, the scalpel gleaming in the dim light. His eyes narrow as he watches you closely, waiting for a reaction.

You suppress another laugh, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear coursing through you. "I guess I always knew you'd find a way to cut me out of your life, but this is a little dramatic, don't you think?" You flash a bitter smile, masking the terror rising in your throat.

Minho’s lips curl into a slow, sinister smile. "Oh, this isn’t about cutting you out. Not yet, at least." He leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as the scalpel hovers near your collarbone. The cold metal grazes your skin, a teasing pressure that sends a shiver down your spine.

You pull at the ropes again, frustration and helplessness bubbling to the surface. Your skin stings from the friction, but you know it’s useless. He tied the knots too well. Still, you refuse to show fear.

"You really think this will make me tell you what you want to hear?" Your voice is hoarse, but there’s defiance in your tone.

Minho chuckles darkly, sliding the scalpel down the center of your chest, just grazing your skin enough to leave a faint trail without cutting. His eyes follow the path of the blade with eerie calmness.

"You’re tougher than I expected. I like that." His gaze locks onto yours again, and there’s a chilling coldness in his eyes that makes your blood run cold. "But everyone has their breaking point."

He drags the scalpel lower, letting it dance across your stomach, teasing the edge of your hip. You can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the blade comes dangerously close to cutting through your skin. Every muscle in your body tenses, waiting for the inevitable pain.

"You’re hiding something," he says, his voice a near-whisper now, filled with a quiet intensity. "You’ve always been so calm, so composed. It made me wonder, what are you hiding beneath that exterior? What is it you think I don’t know?"

He pauses, his fingers tracing the path of the scalpel with a feather-light touch, as if he’s savoring this moment. His eyes glitter with amusement as he watches your face, waiting for the fear to slip through your mask.

"You don’t scare me," you say, though the waver in your voice betrays you.

Minho’s grin widens, and he brings the scalpel up to your throat, just pressing the flat of the blade against your skin, reminding you of how sharp it is. "Maybe not yet," he replies. "But that will change."

His hand moves slowly, deliberately, the scalpel brushing your skin as he leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I’m going to carve out every lie you’ve ever told me, every secret you’ve hidden."

The scalpel flicks across your skin, leaving a shallow scratch, just enough to sting. "Let’s start with why you tried to run," he says, his voice a dangerous whisper.

The blade trails down your chest again, teasing but not yet cutting deep enough to cause real pain. "You’ve been planning this, haven’t you? Just waiting for the right moment to escape."

Your mind races, trying to stay ahead of him, but his control over the situation is suffocating. "What makes you think I’ve been planning anything?" you manage to ask, though the tremble in your voice betrays the fear creeping into your chest.

Minho smirks, enjoying the game. "Because I know you," he murmurs. "I’ve watched you. You think I didn’t notice the way you’ve been distancing yourself? The way you look at me like you’re just waiting for me to make a mistake."

He presses the scalpel a little harder against your skin, and you wince. "I’m not going to let you slip away so easily," he says, his voice dripping with menace. "So why don’t you save us both some time and tell me what you’ve been hiding?"

You grit your teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a confession. "I have nothing to hide from you," you say, though every instinct in your body is screaming that he’s already too close to the truth.

Minho’s expression darkens. He moves the scalpel down again, this time slicing through the thin fabric of your underwear. You flinch as the cold air hits your bare skin, but you refuse to give him the reaction he’s looking for.

"Last chance," he warns, the scalpel glinting in the dim light. "Why Ryan?"

So this is the why.

Your heart stutters, your body stiffening at the mention of the name. Of course, he knows. He’s always known. But now, it’s out in the open, and there's nowhere to hide. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay composed even as the truth hangs dangerously between you.

Minho shifts, bringing the scalpel up to your throat again, applying just enough pressure for you to feel it, the sharp edge threatening to break skin.

"You really thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?" His tone is calm, but the anger simmering beneath the surface is palpable. "You thought you could sneak around, play your little games with him, and I’d be none the wiser."

Your throat tightens, and you struggle to breathe through the panic rising in your chest.

He presses the blade down, just enough to make your pulse quicken. "Why him?" Minho asks again, his voice quieter, almost a whisper now. "Why Ryan?"

"I—" you start, but your voice cracks, your throat dry. You don’t even know what to say, how to explain something that’s so tangled in layers of resentment, anger, and escape. Instead, you try to hold on to the composure you’ve managed to keep for this long. "It wasn’t—"

Minho cuts you off with a bitter laugh, pulling the scalpel back but keeping it poised, ready. "Don’t bother lying," he says, his eyes dark with fury. "I already know everything. I just want to hear it from you."

He sits back slightly, still straddling you, his eyes locked on yours with a kind of chilling intensity. The blade dances over your skin, teasing but not yet cutting.

"Why?" he asks again, softer this time. "What did you think Ryan could give you that I couldn’t?"

Your mind races, heart pounding. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of your truth, but there’s no way out. His patience is wearing thin, and you can see it in the way his grip tightens on the scalpel, his jaw clenching as he waits for your answer.

"It wasn’t about him," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. You don’t know if this will calm him or enrage him further, but it’s all you can offer. "It was never about him."

He tilts his head, watching you closely. "Then what was it about, huh?" His voice sharpens, cutting through the air like the blade in his hand.

You flinch at the venom in his words, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "You don’t understand," you say quietly, tears prickling at the edges of your eyes despite your best efforts to stay strong.

Minho’s face hardens, and he slides the scalpel down your body, stopping just above your abdomen, his fingers tracing the line of your skin with a maddening slowness. "Then make me understand." His voice is dangerous, low and threatening.

His grip on your throat tightens, and the blade slides down to your chest again, this time pressing harder, enough to draw a thin line of blood. You gasp, the sting sharp and sudden.

Minho watches the blood bead up, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "I said make me understand why you betrayed me."

Before you can utter a word, the door to the cabin bursts open. Ryan stands in the doorway, his face a mix of shock and fury as he takes in the scene—the scalpel pressed dangerously close to your throat, Minho’s body straddling yours, and the faint line of blood on your chest.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ryan’s voice echoes through the cabin, and in a blur, he charges at Minho.

Minho barely has time to react before Ryan slams into him, knocking him off of you. The scalpel clatters to the floor as Minho is thrown back, struggling to regain his balance. Ryan swings a hard punch, landing square on Minho’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. You scramble up from the floor, gasping for air, as the two men break into a full-on fight.

Ryan manages another punch, harder this time, knocking Minho to the ground. Minho’s body slumps for a moment, and Ryan quickly grabs the scissors lying on the bed, cutting the ropes free from your hands and feet. He helps you get up and grabs your arm, pulling you toward the stairs.

“Come on,” he urges, his voice low and frantic. “We have to go—now.”

You follow him downstairs, still in shock, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he grabs his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.

“I came as fast as I could when I got your message,” he says, his eyes scanning your face, full of concern. “Are you okay? Did he—”

But before he can finish, there’s a sound behind you—a violent thud. You both turn just in time to see Minho launching himself at Ryan from the top of the stairs.

Minho slams into him with terrifying force, sending the two men crashing to the floor in a violent heap. They grapple, fists flying, legs kicking, as they roll across the floor, locked in a brutal fight for dominance.

Ryan struggles beneath Minho’s weight, his eyes locking on the rifle resting against the wall near the sofa. He looks at you, desperation in his gaze, and subtly gestures toward it.

"The gun," he pants between blows. "Shoot him. Now!"

Your heart pounds in your chest as you rush to grab the rifle. Your hands shake as you lift it, your finger sliding onto the trigger. The weight of the weapon feels surreal in your hands, the cold steel pressing against your skin as you aim it at Minho, who is now pinning Ryan to the ground. The two men are still wrestling, but you have a clear shot.

“Do it!” Ryan yells, gasping for breath as Minho’s hands tighten around his throat.

Tears blur your vision, your breath coming in ragged sobs as you hold the rifle steady. Minho’s eyes catch yours, wild and unrelenting, and in that split second, everything seems to freeze. Your finger starts to push down on the trigger, your mind spinning with the weight of the decision.

“Why?” you scream at Minho, your voice breaking with emotion. "Why did you ever doubt me? Why couldn’t you trust that I loved you?"

Minho’s gaze softens for a fraction of a second, his grip loosening ever so slightly on Ryan’s throat. “You call this love?” he spits back, his voice hoarse but filled with pain.

Your finger trembles, hovering on the trigger, and you’re on the verge of pulling it—when something inside you snaps. In one swift motion, you shift your aim, your heart thudding painfully in your chest.

The gun goes off.

The shot rings out, echoing through the cabin as the bullet rips through the air—and buries itself in Ryan’s skull, right between his eyes. His body goes limp instantly, his hands falling away from Minho as he collapses to the floor, lifeless.

You drop the rifle, your whole body trembling, tears streaming down your face. You can’t stop sobbing, can’t even catch your breath as you take a shaky step toward him and ask, “Is that enough to show how much I love you?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Minho looks at you, his chest heaving, covered in Ryan’s blood, shock registering in his eyes. After a moment, he gets up from the floor, calm and composed, as if the violent act that just transpired hadn't fazed him at all. He walks over to you without a word, his footsteps barely audible in the heavy silence.

From the dining table, he picks up a napkin, its soft fabric starkly contrasting with the blood staining your trembling hands. Gently, he wipes the blood droplets away, his touch careful, almost delicate.

“I cheated on you because—” your voice breaks as the words leave your lips, trembling under the weight of your sobs. “Because I wanted to know if you still care.”

Minho doesn’t respond, but his silence speaks volumes. You watch as he moves across the room, grabbing a jacket from the coat rack. He replaces Ryan’s jacket—the one draped loosely over your shoulders—with his own. His movements are methodical, yet somehow tender, like he’s dressing you for something far more intimate than this horrific moment. You stand frozen, the tears streaming down your face, helpless in your grief and confusion.

“I thought you didn’t love me anymore,” you choke out, your voice barely above a whisper, the sobs making your chest heave.

Minho zips up the jacket, making sure it fits snugly around you, before pulling you close. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, one that reminds you of the warmth you used to find in him. Even with his blood-streaked face, you can see that familiar, intense gaze—the warmth you had longed for finally returning to his eyes.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his hand cradling your face with a kind of reverence, “and if I can’t have you, no one can.”

His lips crash against yours again, this time harder, deeper, and with a hunger that ignites something dangerous inside you. His voice, dripping with possessiveness, makes your heart pound in a way that both terrifies and excites you.

“You’re mine,” he says, the words claiming you with an unyielding finality.

And it’s that very possessiveness that pulls you deeper into him. It’s why you married him in the first place—because Minho doesn’t just love; he consumes. His love is fierce, intense, teetering on the edge of madness, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. You crave it, need it, and right now, it feels like it’s the only thing grounding you in this twisted reality.

“I’m yours,” you whisper, nodding as if you’re sealing your fate with those words.

The two of you kiss again, and this time, it feels like everything is falling back into place, like the chaotic balance of your marriage has been restored. The blood, the violence, the madness—it all shifts back to where it belongs, the perfect equilibrium of your dark, twisted love.

For a moment, the chaos of what you’ve done slips away, and you both stand in eerie stillness, as if nothing happened.

However, the sight of the body lying lifeless on the floor snaps you back to reality.

Minho silently moves to pick up Ryan’s jacket, using it to cover the gaping wound on his head, though the blood has already soaked into the rug. Without a word, he starts dragging the body onto the rug, and you, numb and dazed, help him. Together, you roll the body into it, cocooning Ryan in the bloodstained fabric.

"Go get the body bag from the basement," Minho tells you, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

Your legs feel heavy as you make your way down to the basement, retrieving the thick, black bag. The two of you struggle to maneuver Ryan’s body into it, your hands slipping on the slick fabric as you zip it up.

The weight of what you’ve done sinks in deeper with each passing second, but you push it aside, focusing on the task at hand. Together, you drag the body outside into the dark night. The only sounds are the rhythmic scrape of the bag against the ground and the low rustle of wind in the trees.

Minho busies himself with the boat, the mechanical hum of the engine cutting through the stillness. You clamber onto the boat, watching him as he grabs the large rock he collected earlier—the weight that will ensure the body stays submerged beneath the water, lost to the lake’s depths.

Once everything is set, he starts the boat, and it moves silently over the water, cutting through the eerie calm of the night. You sit in the cold air, the distant shore shrinking as he drives far enough from land.

Finally, he stops, and you both work in grim silence to lift the heavy body bag over the edge. The splash echoes in the darkness as it hits the water, and for a brief moment, the sound lingers, unsettling and hollow.

You and Minho stay there, eyes locked on the spot where the bag submerged, waiting, watching. The bubbles rise to the surface, swirling for a few moments before fading away into the night. The water smooths out, becoming calm once more, its surface reflecting the endless stretch of the night sky above.

Nothing comes back up. Only silence, only stillness.

With the body gone, there’s no time to waste.

Minho doesn’t say a word as he moves toward Ryan’s car, his movements swift and calculated. You watch as he wipes the door handles, steering wheel, and gear shift clean of fingerprints before driving it to the edge of the river.

The car slowly inches forward, and as it begins to roll into the water, you stand at a distance, watching the lake swallow it whole, the final glint of metal disappearing beneath the surface. The water ripples for a moment before settling back into silence, leaving no trace of the vehicle behind.

You head back to the cabin to tackle your part. The living room feels eerily quiet, haunted by the chaos that took place just hours ago. You move quickly, gathering the objects that were stained with Ryan’s blood: the napkin, the rug, anything he touched.

With methodical precision, you scrub the floor clean, the sound of the rag scraping against the wood filling the room. You make sure to use bleach, wiping down every surface, making sure no bloodstains or lingering scent remains. The stinging smell of bleach replaces the coppery odor of blood, and you inhale deeply, feeling the chemical burn in your lungs.

When the room looks spotless, you gather the last of the evidence: your clothes, Minho’s bloodstained clothes, and the tools he brought. All of it goes into a large bag—anything that could tie either of you to what happened. Together, you make your way into the woods, where the night feels darker, heavier, as if nature itself is holding its breath.

Minho starts the fire, the flames flickering to life and casting a soft, orange glow over the trees. The bag is heavy as you both throw it onto the growing blaze, the crackling of burning fabric and wood filling the air. You watch as the fire consumes everything, turning it into ash and smoke. The smell of burning evidence—your clothes, Ryan’s blood, every trace of him—rises with the heat, drifting into the night sky.

Minho grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. There’s a quiet intimacy in the way you stand there, side by side, watching as the fire devours the last remnants of the crime. The warmth of his hand grounds you as the flames burn higher, until all that’s left are glowing embers and ash, scattering into the wind.

There’s nothing left now. No evidence. No trace. Just the two of you and the darkened woods.

The sun is slowly rising on the horizon when you walk back to the cabin

The final task is washing away the evidence from your bodies. You and Minho share the shower, alternating turns under the warm water as it washes off the blood and dirt clinging to your skin. At times, you help each other scrub, his hands trailing over the places where bruises and cuts mar your flesh.

There’s a quiet intimacy in the way you tend to each other, rinsing away the aftermath of the night before.

Once you're out of the shower and standing in front of the mirror, you notice the injuries. There’s a bruise blooming around your neck from where Minho had choked you, a thin cut across your chest from his scalpel, rope bruns on both wrists and ankles, and scrapes on your knees from tripping in the woods. The marks are raw, reminders of the violence that had passed between you.

“Come, sit.” Minho’s voice cuts through your thoughts. You turn to see him sitting on the bed, first aid kit in hand, his eyes already fixed on your wounds.

You obey, sitting beside him as he opens the kit. His fingers graze your skin as he pulls the robe open, exposing the cut on your chest. The light touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Minho leans in, studying the wound with careful attention before smoothing ointment onto it. You wince as it stings, and he immediately blows cool air on it to soothe the burn.

He moves to your knees next, his hands gentle as he applies more ointment and covers the scrapes with band-aids. His gaze lingers longer on the bruise around your neck, his fingers softly pressing against the swollen skin.

“Does it hurt?” His voice is softer now, a hint of worry in his tone.

“Not really,” you lie, and then it's your turn to ask about the bruise blooming on his jaw from Ryan’s punch, "How about it?"

He catches your hand and kisses it. "I'm okay."

Satisfied with your answer, he puts the first aid kit aside. His hair is damp, tousled as he pushes it back, and when his eyes meet yours again, there’s something dangerous and tender in his gaze.

“Aren’t you going to kiss it better?” you ask with a sly smile, teasing him.

His lips curl into a smile, and before you know it, his hands are on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, feeling the warmth of his body through the thin fabric of your robe.

“Want me to kiss it better?” he murmurs, his voice low, his brown eyes fiery as they lock on yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, your hands resting on his shoulders, needing his touch.

Minho leans in, placing a slow, deliberate kiss on the bandaged cut on your chest. His lips linger, and you feel the heat of the kiss searing into your skin. He doesn’t stop there, parting the robe further to press fluttering kisses along your collarbone, down to your breasts.

His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as he buries his face between your breasts. He’s kissing, licking, and sucking your skin, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake. He takes his time with you, his fingers joining in, rolling and rubbing your nipples between them until they harden under his touch.

You tug at his hair, watching him, entranced by the way his mouth worships your flesh. His lips part with a soft pop as he releases your nipple, leaving it wet with his saliva.

“I’m obsessed,” he mutters, his lips brushing against your sternum. “I’ll always be obsessed with your body.”

He doesn’t need to say it—you can feel it in every touch, every kiss. His admiration for your body is palpable, his gaze lingering on your skin as though he can’t get enough. Your heart races, your desire growing hotter with each second that passes.

“Want you, Minho,” you moan breathlessly, your hands tightening on his shoulders. “I want you so much.”

Minho needs no further encouragement. He lays you back on the same bed where he tortured you earlier, his body moving over yours with a desperate hunger.

When he enters you, the intensity of his thrusts takes your breath away. His eyes flicker between watching his cock slide in and out of you and studying your face, seeking your reactions with every movement.

He slows down suddenly, leaning down to kiss you deeply, pulling away only when you’re gasping for air. He presses his forehead against yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

“Are you mine?” His voice is rough, commanding.

You nod quickly, barely able to speak.

His fingers graze your lips. “Words.”

“I am yours,” you say, your voice trembling with need.

A dark grin spreads across his face, and he kisses you again, more urgently this time. “That’s right. You’re mine.”

Minho resumes his thrusts, picking up the pace. One hand moves to wrap around your neck, squeezing slowly, cutting off just enough air to blur the line between pleasure and pain. His thrusts don’t falter as his grip tightens, his voice a dark whisper in your ear.

“You’re mine. All mine. Only mine.”

Your vision swims, the pressure on your windpipe mixing with the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. You look into his eyes, and what you see there—lust, love, madness—sends you over the edge.

Both of you reach your peak together, bodies trembling as the release washes over you in shuddering waves.

When it’s over, Minho collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. He places a soft, lingering kiss on your lips that makes your heart stutter.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your skin. His hand rests over your chest, right where your heart beats wildly.

Then, his voice drops, a dark promise in his words. “I want to cut you open and climb inside, so we can become one—forever.”

Anyone else would think it was madness, but to you, it’s just Minho. It’s the way he loves you—raw, obsessive, and unrelenting. And you love him for it, for every twisted piece of him that’s unlike any man you’ve ever known.

“And I would die for you,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with the weight of it. “Kill for you. I love you.”

It has always been your wish to be loved to the point of madness and Minho made that come true for you.

You wake to sunlight spilling through the cracks in the curtains, the warmth coaxing you from the comfort of sleep. The bed feels impossibly soft, but the familiar ache in your muscles reminds you of everything that happened the night before. Slowly, you stretch, your body protesting as you roll onto your side, blinking into the brightness.

The cabin is silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves outside and the occasional chirp of birds. You glance at the clock on the bedside table—it’s already late morning. You sit up, pulling the robe tightly around your body as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

Your eyes fall on the small bandages Minho placed on your wounds last night. They’re a stark contrast to the serene morning around you, a reminder of the intensity that’s always lurking beneath the surface. But that’s how it is with Minho—love and danger, pleasure and pain, always intertwined.

The smell of food drifts up from downstairs, making your stomach growl. Minho must be downstairs.

You pad softly down the stairs, your bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. As you step into the kitchen, you find Minho at the stove, the light from the window framing him in a soft glow. He’s already dressed in a white shirt that accentuate his broad shoulders and there’s a calmness in the way he moves as he plates food.

He turns, a warm smile spreading across his face when he sees you.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he says, his voice smooth and gentle, as if the events of last night were a distant memory.

“Morning,” you reply, still groggy as you walk toward him.

You wrap your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his chest, breathing him in. His arms immediately encircle you, pulling you close as his lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“You slept in,” he teases, one hand coming up to brush your hair away from your face.

“I needed it,” you murmur, tilting your head up to look at him.

His gaze is tender, and there’s something disarming about the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss, slow and sweet.

The world outside feels far away, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you—wrapped in each other, the chaos of your love quiet for once.

Minho pulls back, his thumb lightly tracing your lower lip. “I made lunch. Thought you’d be hungry.”

You smile, your heart swelling with affection. “I'm famished.”

He cups your face, kissing you again, this time deeper, more lingering. You melt into him, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging gently as his lips claim yours. It’s moments like this that make you feel utterly consumed by him.

When you finally break apart, both of you slightly breathless, Minho rests his forehead against yours. His hands slide down to your waist, holding you close.

“How about we go for a ride on the boat today?” he suggests, his voice low. “It’s a beautiful day.”

You look up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss. “A boat ride?”

He nods, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. “Yeah. The lake’s calm, the sun’s out. We could use some fresh air.”

The thought of spending the day out on the water with Minho, with nothing but the peacefulness of the lake around you, sounds perfect. You can already imagine the cool breeze against your skin, the way the sunlight will dance across the surface of the water.

“I’d love that,” you say softly, leaning into his touch.

Minho’s eyes glint with satisfaction, and he presses one last kiss to your lips before stepping back to finish preparing lunch. “But first, finish your food.”

As you sit down to the table, Minho places a plate in front of you, the meal simple but delicious. You eat in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging soft smiles and touches, your hands brushing across the table as if neither of you can stand to be apart for long.

For the first time, the two of you are connected in a whole new level that it feels like nothing can tear you and Minho apart anymore.

The boat glides across the tranquil waters, the rhythmic sound of the oars slicing through the lake the only disturbance in the otherwise still air. The sun hangs high above, casting a shimmering path of light across the surface, making it look like a trail of gold leading them deeper into the heart of the lake.

You sit facing Minho, watching the muscles in his arms flex and contract as he rows, his gaze fixed on the water, intense and focused. There’s something serene about this moment, a rare softness between the two of you. It feels almost surreal, considering what happened just last night.

Last night, when this very lake was a silent witness to the horror you both created. Now, it feels like a different place—calm, almost idyllic. But the memory is still there, just beneath the surface, lingering like a dark shadow that no amount of sunlight can chase away.

Minho slows the boat as you reach the middle of the lake, his eyes shifting to meet yours. There’s a glint of something unreadable in them, a darkness that always simmers just beneath his surface. It’s the very same darkness that pulled you in, binding you to him in ways that go beyond love. It’s obsession, need, and something far more dangerous.

He lets go of the oars and shifts closer, his knees brushing against yours as he reaches out, his hand sliding into his pocket. You tilt your head, watching curiously as he pulls out something small and shiny.

Your breath catches when you realize what it is. Your wedding ring.

Minho holds it up between his fingers, the gold band catching the sunlight. You stare at it, your heart pounding as memories of your vows come flooding back. The promises you made to each other, promises that were shattered and reforged into something far more twisted and unbreakable.

“I believe this belongs to you,” Minho murmurs, his voice low and soft.

There’s a tenderness in his gaze that disarms you, makes you feel as if he’s peeling back every layer of yourself and looking straight into your soul.

He takes your left hand, his touch featherlight as he slides the ring back onto your finger. You shiver at the sensation, your eyes locked onto his as he recites the very vow you spoke on your wedding day.

“In sickness and in health…” he begins, his voice barely a whisper but strong, his gaze unwavering. “For better, for worse. For richer, for poorer…”

You swallow hard, your heart hammering against your ribcage. There’s an odd sense of finality in his tone, as if he’s sealing not just a promise but something darker—a pact, a blood oath that binds you together not just in love, but in sin.

“...Till death do us part,” he finishes, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, where the ring now rests again, a symbol of everything you are to each other.

You draw in a shaky breath, the words catching in your throat. “Till death do us part,” you repeat, your voice just as soft, but the weight of the vow feels heavier now, burdened by all the blood and secrets you share.

Minho’s eyes light up at your response, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the still air.

“We’re bound again,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours as he speaks. “In life, in death, in everything. You’re mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you whisper back, your fingers curling around the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. There’s a fierceness in your words, a possessiveness that matches his own. Because you are each other’s, wholly and completely, in ways that no one else could ever understand.

Minho cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he kisses you—soft at first, almost reverent. But then it deepens, turning into something desperate and consuming. You can feel the intensity in every press of his lips, every brush of his tongue against yours.

It’s not just love; it’s hunger, an insatiable need to claim and be claimed.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless. Minho rests his forehead against yours again, his fingers threading through your hair.

“With you, I’m never alone,” he whispers, his voice raw and honest in a way that sends shivers down your spine. “You’re the only one who understands me, the only one who’ll stay.”

“And I will,” you reply, your fingers tightening around his, “Always.”

Minho’s smile is small but genuine, and for a moment, he looks almost boyish, the hard edges of his face softened by the sunlight filtering through the trees around the lake. He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours.

“We’re more than just lovers now,” he murmurs, his voice low.

Your gaze shifts to the water surrounding the boat, to the spot where Ryan’s body lies hidden beneath the surface. A chill runs down your spine, but it’s not fear—it’s the thrill of what you’ve become together. Bound by love, by blood, by the darkness that twists through both of your souls.

You softly nod in agreement as you turn back to him and with that, the two of you are bound once more—not just by the ring now resting on your finger, but by the weight of the secret that lies at the bottom of the lake. It’s your bond, your burden, and in a twisted way, it’s also your triumph.

Because what you have with Minho isn’t normal, and it isn’t sane. It’s dark and consuming and entirely your own. It’s a love that defies all reason, a connection that can’t be broken, no matter how much blood is spilled.

After all, when love is not madness it is not love.

Support my works by kindly reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @minh0scat @simplymoo

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jambalaya-enthusiast · 16 days ago

Note

reactions of crew members seeing hickeys on your neck? who gave you the hickeys doesnt matter just in general you know

THE CREW MEMBERS REACTION TO SEEING HICKEYS ON READER;

Curly

- He doesn't really notice them at first tbh,it's when he is speaking to you face to face, that's when he notices the red marks on your neck.

- gets quiet, really quiet. and just looks at you.

- "y/n I hope you realise that there are some metrics of rules and ethics which are to be followed on the tulpar,i have no right to divulge in your personal life,but please try to keep it professional,and hey if there's anything bothering you,you can always come to me".

- but the reality couldn't be any more different,he is jealous as fuckk. He just asks you to stop doing whatever you're doing with someone else, rather than him,in a not so subtle manner.

Jimmy

- this horn dog noticed immediately, and kept on staring at the marks until it made you uncomfortable.

- "wow. I guess someone couldn't keep it in his pants after seeing you,well, can't blame him". And then smirks.

- continuosly pokes you about who it is from. "What's the shame in atleast telling me? C'mon who was it? Curly? Swansea? Hell was it Daisuke?"

- is super annoyed that someone before him, already managed to bag you. He absolutely has to know who's the guy who has the hots for you to make sure he can keep them away.

Swansea

- he's wayy to underpaid,and overage to give a fuck. He's had his fun during his time.

- "kids these days,*sigh*".

- does notice that the hickeys actually look...so good on you,it makes you look sexier.

- "i can't say I blame the guy who marked you as his,hell i would've done the same, considering the fact that you're such a pretty little thing,not my style but hell am I jealous!".

- doesn't really press on after that. He's got his wife at home. ( Lmfao )

Daisuke

- HE IS LIVID. HE IS GOING CRAZY.

- "WHATTT Y/NNNNN WHO DID THISSSSSS????".

- is incredibly jealous and wouldn't even try to hide it.

- "hey can I give you some?". *Wink*

- after that day,he practically clings on to you to prevent that from happening again lol.

Anya

- sees it, doesn't question anything.

- just hopes that it's not from jimmy.

#jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing x reader #jimmy x reader #curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #captain curly #swansea x reader #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #daisuke mouthwashing

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wandasfavv · 8 months ago

Text

Make You Mine

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ummm stepmom Wanda being upset with you for hosting a birthday party and not listening to her??

Idkkk this is my first time writing anything SO PLEASE just give me chance. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but like it’s something and I wrote this in one sitting. So please ignore any mistakes I made

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x Fem!Reader, alcohol, intoxicated r, non/con, somnophilia, mommy kink, oral(r receiving), jealousy, mentions of straight relationship, just Wanda being pervy

The floor trembled under you as music played obnoxiously through the speakers. You had the house to yourself and since it was your 21st birthday, you hosted a party at your house. There was around twenty people or so that you invited, having known them from college or even before.

With the promises of causing no trouble and being good, your father decided to give you permission to celebrate with your friends. Your step mom on the other hand, not so much.

“Y/N no, I told you already I don’t want you and your friends making a mess in the house that I know you’re not going clean,” Wanda said sternly as she set the dirty dishes in the sink. It was so rare for the older woman to ever let you do anything surrounding your friends. Despite being an adult, she’s always treated you as if you were a kid who never knew how to take care of yourself, and you hated it. Here she was doing that exact thing.

“I promise I’ll clean everything, Wanda. Just let me,” you responded, helping her clean up the table from dinner just to prove a point. She sighed before looking back up and at you, her expression displaying a displeasured look. You, being persistent, kept trying. Begged even as you put on a pleading face. “Please, I’ll do check ins and make sure nothing breaks or anything.”

Wanda found herself amused at your attempt of convincing her, the use of ‘please’ being sorta cute. However, you breaking stuff or making messes weren’t her actual concerns. She just didn’t trust you with your friends.

There were so many nights where she’d catch you trying to sneak out with them, sometimes not being able to and waking up to see you in the morning covered with marks and hickies from whatever. It made her feel an itch whenever she saw you unawarely show off anything that didn’t come from her. Plus, she was always worried about your friends taking advantage over you and making you do stuff she just thought you shouldn’t be doing. And now that you’re planning on a party where’d you be unsupervised, and possibly going to be doing more of these things, she just couldn’t bear the thought.

“For the last time. No-“

“Hey come on it’s fine. Let the kid do what she wants, it’s her 21st birthday,” your father intervened, not noticing the anger and frustration on his wife’s face. He smiled at you, and went his way to Wanda through the kitchen, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just take it as a chance to go on a date or something.”

The sight of him touching her and the word ‘date’ coming out of his mouth made your stomach churn. You didn’t know why though. Sure there were moments you found Wanda attractive and pretty even, but she was like a little less than twice your age and married to your father. It’d be weird to like her in any way like that. Right…?

“Well, thanks dad. I’ll go ahead and do it then,” you replied, your voice sounding taunting to Wanda as you glared up at her.

Excusing yourself, you went to your bedroom, trying to get the picture of the two out of your head. But before leaving, you noticed how Wanda somewhat pushed him away gently.

Back to the party, there you were taking shots and drinks down your throat like you’ve had before. Since you were now legally able to drink alcohol, everyone brought some combined with any that you found in the cabinets. You knew Wanda would probably be mad at you for taking some, but at least you left her favorite wine.

After a couple hours of playing games and enjoying your time letting the drunk feeling sink in, people began to leave, saying bye as they departed and said their birthday wishes to you. It was around 1am at this point, and you knew your dad and Wanda would be back soon. Though, you could barely see anything as you walked. After taking so much of the burning liquor and not considering the consequences, you felt completely sick and out of it, obviously not remembering your promises of cleaning up. Your phone was no where to be found and you had no clue about Wanda’s concerns.

Your last couple of friends helped you with a little bit of trash, picking up only after themselves however, and leaving most of it to you. Feeling lightheaded, you found your way to your room as you held onto the walls, plopping down on the bed once you were in as if you weren’t on the verge of throwing up. As you laid down comfortably, your eyes became heavy, leading you into a deep sleep in which you didn’t hear the car driving and parking onto the driveway.

Wanda came into the house, already prepared to yell at you after you didn’t answer her calls from earlier. She walked over the cups and napkins left on the floor toward your room, expecting you to be up and just ‘busy’ doing anything but cleaning like you said. But instead, she walked into you passed out on your bed, still in your uncomfortable clothing as you reeked of alcohol. She once again sighed out in irritation, not sure if she should be shouting at you or your father for letting you host a stupid a party.

She takes a few steps towards you, reaching her hand out to gently push the loose strand of hair from your face as you slept at the edge. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at your cute sleeping antics though, noticing your eyebrows create an indent in between and your nose twitch. Picking you up with her unusual strength, she put you into bed correctly, placing your head onto the soft pillow lightly. She paused for a moment thinking about her next move as she realized again the clothes you were wearing. They were revealing and provocative, something you’d never proudly wear in front of her or your father. Wanda bit her bottom lip, not knowing whether she should do what she’s thinking, but she did it anyway.

Slowly, she put her hands at the hem of your short top, trying her best to take it off you without you waking. She just didn’t want you to sleep in uncomfortable clothing, that’s all… Successfully pulling it off, she threw it down on the floor. Her eyes trailed down to your chest, which was still covered with your bra. She blushed a bit, finding your body beautiful yet so tempting her eyes then made their way to your bottom half, contemplating if it was a good idea to take your pants off too.

The sound of your father’s voice shook the thought out of her head. He called her name, wondering if everything was okay as the house was quiet, which wasn’t usual if it was Wanda yelling at you. She quickly got out of your room, hoping she wouldn’t be caught doing anything inappropriate with her husband’s daughter and went to her own bedroom, now ignoring the mess that surrounded her through the halls.

After about an hour, Wanda came back into your room. Just to check on you, maybe. She cleaned herself up, taking off any of the makeup she put on for the date she was just on, which was really just her having to suffer through pretending to enjoy whatever it was that they did. She was dressed in simple pajamas, just a shirt and shorts, and even then she looked perfect. Her oblivious husband was asleep now as well, and she took it as her chance to go back to your unconscious state. Walking gingerly to the side of the bed that you were on, she turned on the light on your nightstand and stared at your body again, thinking about taking off your pants like earlier. This time she did do it. Her hands went to the top of them, tugging them down with barely any force. Now leaving with you in only your undergarments, she found herself immersed in your entire being, her hand trailing down your body.

“Fuck, what am I doing…” Wanda whispered to herself as she bit the inside of her cheek in nervousness. You shifted in response to her touch, still in deep sleep as you unknowingly made her lose her composure. A soft groan left her mouth as you turned onto your side and had your back face her, exposing your ass. Looking back at the door and you, Wanda came to the conclusion that neither you or your father would be waking up anytime soon, so she crawled into bed with you on the other side, going under the cold sheets.

She’s never interacted with you with touch before, maybe just a couple hugs and light touches to your lower back, but never more as she didn’t really want to risk and indulge in anything. But seeing you now, your unconscious body, which wouldn’t know what’s about to happen, made her yearn for more.

Her hand made its way back to your face, cupping your cheek that’s faced up unlike the other which was adorably squished against the pillow. She leaned down placing a feather light kiss to your forehead to test you and to see if you really were heavily asleep. And you were. Receiving the green light to go further, her lips went father down to your nose, then to your mouth. Not caring if you were unconscious and intoxicated, she gently pushed her lips against yours, letting out a soft moan as she finally got to kiss you like she’s dreamt of from so many nights where she’d wake up with a mess in between her legs. Her hand went down to your waist, and squeezed it just a bit, but the action made you squirm and part from the kiss, once again turning and facing your back to Wanda.

Disappointed to not see your face, she breathed out. She still kept her hands on you though, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you toward her body. She put her face into your neck, taking in your scent that remained besides the alcohol. “God, I need you so bad baby,” Wanda mumbled behind your ear. Her fingers from her other hand came up to unclip your bra, freeing your chest and allowing her to grope your breasts, still lightly as she wanted you to stay asleep. Her perverted actions were so different compared to how she’d usually behave around you.

Your body responded to her many ways as she touched you. You pushed your ass against her front, your panties being the only thing separating her from touching your father down. She groaned again at this, as if your body subconsciously wanted her to fuck you. And once a small and barely audible whimper escaped from your lips, she lost it. Her head spun from the way you acted, forcing her to find ways to control herself from just pinning you down and having her way with you. She bit down on your lower neck, making you once again let out another noise of disturbance.

“So needy even when you’re sleeping… fuck, I can’t stand you,” she said quietly against your skin, biting her lip and moving her hand down your tummy and further to your center. Her fingers reached the band of your underwear, causing her to huff out in annoyance of it being there still. Being a little less gentle, she tugged it down and immediately cupped your cunt. It was kinda rough as she desperately wanted to feel you. Her fingers went through your folds, collecting your wetness. Then, she reached up to her lips to taste you as she put them in her mouth, sucking your arousal off. She moaned, and already in love with how you tasted she wanted more of it.

Her body moved down, removing the sheets off of you and her. The soft yellow glow from the light on your body mesmerized her as she positioned herself between your legs. Parting them, she bent down and put her arm underneath your thighs before having them in a tight hold with her hands gripping the smooth flesh there. Wanda looked up at your sleeping self, admiring your beauty as her lip quivered from need with your pussy just centimeters away from her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, gently licking up and between your folds, up your clit. Your body quickly began to stir, and your eyes were forced shut as you turned your head. Wanda stopped momentarily, waiting for you to settle.

Once you stopped moving, she started to move her tongue against you again. Switching between licking around your sensitive nub and entering your cunt with her tongue, she moaned at how sweet you were, making her hold on you tighter to the point where light bruises were to form. Another small whimper mixed with a moan left your mouth as Wanda hit a particular spot within you. Your hips jerked up, and this only caused her to move roughly against and in your pussy. “Mm, waited so long to make you mine…”

Now that she was lost in pleasuring you and herself, you began to wake up from the slight aggressive movements. Your eyes opened, squinting from the bright light beaming beside your face. Confused, you closed your eyes again before recognizing a feeling between your thighs. Wanda noticed you waking up, no longer caring and actually glad you were. As you looked down you saw her face covered in your wetness mixed with her own saliva. Your jaw dropped from both shock and pleasure as she continued moving her tongue in and out of your increasingly soaked center. “W-Wanda..?” You shakily spoke, reaching down to her head, only to be stopped as her hands took yours and pinned them down beside your thighs.

“Shh… just let mommy take you, okay?” She said, noticing the way your hips bucked up against her face from the name she used for herself. “You’ve been so bad, you know that? You know how upset you made me, leaving a mess outside… and hanging out with all your dumb little friends…” she said lowly against your pussy, the vibrations of her voice making you moan and tilt your head back. Her mind shifted back to previous days at the mention of your friends. “So fucking annoying, coming home with all those marks on you and from who huh? Do they fuck you better than me baby?”

The constant questions and use of cuss words turned you on further as you never had nor expected Wanda to talk to you like this. Your mind was still hazy too, from just waking up and the after effects of drinking too much. “No… no m-mommy no,” you gasped, dumbly shaking your head. Wanda moaned, hearing you say her preferred term and getting drunk off your sounds. Her grip on your hands were now even tighter matching yours as you got closer to your orgasm.

Your moaning got louder as well, somewhat worrying Wanda as she didn’t want this time with you ruined by your dad waking up. So letting go of one of your hands, she reached up and covered your mouth, the pressure being harsh. Your noises were only muffled sounds of pleasure, still arousing to hear to Wanda. “Shut up sweetie, you don’t want your father to hear you, do you?” She questions, smirking slightly as you shook your head no. She loved the way you looked down at her, your eyebrows furrowed with a look of desperation and slight fear for bringing up that fact that he was in the other room down the hall.

As you were on the edge of cumming, your free hand went down to Wanda’s hair, grasping the soft locks of brown hair like you’ve always wanted. Her tongue kept going and swirled around the clit once again, really pushing you towards releasing all over her face and specifically in her mouth. You whined against her palm, signaling to her that you needed to let go. “You gonna cum, princess? Cum all over mommy’s tongue?” She asks in a condescending tone, smiling to herself as you tried to respond under her hand. She let her hand fall for you to speak and beg her for permission.

“P-Please mommy, please I wanna cum,” you begged, whimpering as you tried to hold back before she said yes. The hold on her hair got tighter, causing her groan again. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes and Wanda couldn’t help but get more aroused at the sight.

“Mhm, go ahead baby…” Wanda replied, going at a faster and rougher pace, battling against the tiring and numb feeling in her muscle. You let go the second you hear her, moving and grinding your cunt against her to ride out the orgasm that’s making your entire body tremble. Louder and higher pitched sounds from your mouth escaped, causing Wanda to instead move back up your body and shut you up by kissing you, shoving her tongue in your mouth and making you taste your own arousal.

“Uh-huh, good girl… so good for me,” she whispered, parting form the kiss and settling beside you in the bed, pulling you in her arms in a tight comforting hold laying down. The praise made you weaker, and with her pampering you by wiping your tears away while gently petting your head, it made you lost in your mind. You panted against her chest and held onto her hand still securely. She waited for you to calm down a bit before speaking again.

“Shhhh… it’s ok, just go back to sleep dear,” Wanda said softly and moving her arms to wrap around you. She figured you were still tired, from both the orgasm and the alcohol. She right of course, and you found yourself becoming drowsy in her arms.

“Wanda…” you suddenly said sleepily, catching her attention with your stable voice. She looked down at you, still comfortingly rubbing your side. The tired look on your face showing absolutely no signs of a single thought in your head was adorable to her and she smiled while responding to you with a small “hm?”

“I’m sorry for being bad,” you mumbled timidly, looking away for a moment as there was a permanent blush. Wanda laughed softly at you, her hands now to your cheek to make you look at her.

“You’re so cute… just make it up to me tomorrow okay, and then maybe we can do something like this again,” She responded, a loving grin on her face with a light pink tint on her cheeks. You nodded slowly and smiled at her. Wanda then kissed your head, shushing you to sleep. And you listened, saying a small goodnight before quickly beginning to snore softly into her neck once you shut your heavy eyelids just for a couple seconds in her warm embrace.

Part 2(Getting Closer)

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #top!wanda #mommy!wanda #lesbian #fem!reader #scarlet witch #i need her #elizabeth olsen

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bluejeanstrash · 9 months ago

Text

tags: boyfriend! seungcheol x reader, domestic scenes, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of marriage | wc: 744

‘is he okay?’

‘mmm’ seungcheol nods, carefully closing the door behind him. ‘he’ll be fine. he fell asleep but i’ve kept the puke bucket next to the bed incase he needs it’

‘cheollie, we really need to throw that thing’ you make a face, thinking about how many times it had been used.

‘yeah, but people keep throwing up in our house!’

‘that’s because you keep making them drink way too much!’ seungcheol’s “home bar” was 3 bottles short of a liquor store. he was extremely proud of his collection and very generous with it, offering offensively expensive drinks to any and every guest that entered your home.

tonight, passed out in the guest room was hoshi, who had been taken out midway through his fourth drink. he hadn’t even made it to the dinner part of the dinner party you both were hosting.

seungcheol pouts in response, picking up a dirty glass left on the bar ‘do you want me to do the dishes, my love?’

‘nope, i’ve got it. can you clean up and take out the trash instead?’ he gets on it right away, pausing for a second to rub your shoulders when bringing the glass over. a second turns into a minute, and the rub into a mini massage as his fingers move deftly, kneading all those little knots away.

‘thank you baby, i needed that’ you sigh, and the next thing you know his arms are wrapped around you, his chin resting on the slope of your shoulder ‘you know what was really nice today?’

‘hmmn?’

‘you know when joshua’s friend…mark? yeah, mark. when he thought we were married’

it was first time it had ever happened. ‘so, how did you and your husband meet?’ mark had asked.

‘oh, he’s my boyfriend’ you had corrected him and moved on, but seungcheol was stuck right there. boyfriend? no, that just wasn’t going to cut it for him anymore. why would he ever want to be called your boyfriend when he could be your husband instead? a demotion, really.

‘i liked it. a lot. husband-’ he presses a kiss to the warm skin of your neck ‘-and wife’, and another, before pulling you into him. he brings his arm forward to turn off the tap before turning you around to face him.

‘what do you say? should we do it? get married?’ each question asked in between little pecks.

‘if this is your idea of a proposal-’

he chuckles, circling back ‘get married. make you my wife. get you…pregnant’ seungcheol feels a little giddy honestly, giddy at his own words. he’s already made up his mind — he wants this future, and only with you.

‘you want to put a baby in me?’ you tease, starting to feel a little hot under your clothes.

‘oh, i want to put many, many babies in you’ he mutters, his lips parting yours, impatient hands coming around to untie the knot of your apron.

‘want to put one in you right now...’ he grabs your ass to lift you up, your legs wrapping around him instantly. you pull off your rubber gloves, tossing them aside and lock your arms around his neck. you kiss him, a little needily, tugging at his hair to let him know you need him right here, right now. he turns around to take you to the kitchen island, opening his eyes for a second to see hoshi — hoshi who’s discreetly trying to make his way out of the kitchen.

‘shit!’ seungcheol’s grip on you loosens abruptly before he catches you, carefully putting you down.

‘sorry! i’m so sorry!’ hoshi covers his eyes, stumbling back ‘i didn’t see anything. i just..i threw up..in that bucket thing and didn’t know what to do with it’

‘it’s fine, it’s fine. go to the room. i’m coming’ seungcheol takes a second to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to redirect his blood flow.

‘this is what it’s going to be like with a kid, you know’ you joke, bending to grab the fallen gloves which doesn’t help his raging boner at all ‘at least hoshi can clean up after himself up. who’s going to clean up our child’s projectile vomit?’

there’s a moment of silence.

‘not it’

‘not it!’

you both giggle — you turning back to do the dishes, and seungcheol going to check up on hoshi, both of you back in the moment, dreaming of the future to come.

#random drabble to get back into writing #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #scoups #choi seungcheol

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moonlight-records · 1 month ago

Text

Hole in one | LH44 & LN4

pairing: LH44 x Reader x LN4

summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on a rarely non-busy day but your mind has other ideas seeing how hot your boyfriends are. luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today--

warning: age gap between lewis & partners, semi-threesome, dom/sub dynamics, mention of eating out, mention of sex, mention of overstimulation, semi-free use(?), cockwarming, blowjob, semi-public exhibitionism (aka car sex), mmf threesome sorta???, edging, facial, mention of medication.

fc: none!

a/n: I KNOW THE TITLE IS CHEESY. DOES IT MAKE SENSE?? IDK AND IDC. It's late and i used my brain power for the smut--don't look at me

wc: 4.1K

God, you were certain you were going to go straight to hell. Poor boys just wanted a nice bonding day and you were imagining their hands helping you get out of this golfing outfit.

The thought crossed your mind glancing between the two Brits who were currently standing by the golf tee happily talking while you looked between the two trying to figure out which one you wanted to take first.

First, Lando was in those black golf shorts and that stupid black wife beater. You had so much to look at that you didn’t where you wanted to focus on first. Between the vein that pops out of his neck when he swings to his hands that gripped the gold club the way you wish he would grip your hair to his muscles just on full display along with a gorgeous tan that would look so much better with marks from you. Your eyes kept linger up to that curly mullet he had just gotten and you wet your lips because damn it. That mullet was just coaxing you to run your fingers through and grab and yank. Maybe you could get a hold of that chain and—

There was some laughter as a darker male nudged Lando with his shoulder. Lewis was the polar opposite of Lando.

While Lando looked like he had just rolled out of bed ten minutes before his ride came, Lewis was dressed like he was always on the golf course. A cream (you think it’s cream anyway) woven short sleeve polo and green golfing pants. The pants fit Lewis in a way that you could clearly see a little bit more than typically bargained before. You learned that the hard way by hole 3 when you realized Lewis did not have his hands in his pocket and now at hole 11, you were disrespectfully staring at any chance you got. When you couldn’t, you took to staring at all the different tattoos that you could see on his arms and watching his muscles. What you wouldn’t give for those damn tatted biceps putting your head in a headlock.

God, what do people call this duo?

Pairs??

You squint when the rare sunlight is suddenly in your eyes before a figure steps to the side slightly to give you shade. The gentle swipe of a thumb across your bottom lip snaps you back into reality.

“Something distracting you, love?”

Your face flushes almost immediately when Lando speaks to you. You avert your eyes while clearing your throat before letting out a soft noise of surprise when Lando lets his hand slip just underneath your jaw and forces your head up just an inch higher. You look back at him and blink because wow. The guys were right. You really did just need a few touches from either of them to turn into a mess.

“Sweetheart,” Lando murmurs while leaning down, “I asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Yeah..”

“You haven’t answered me. You know I don’t like repeating myself but you are just too cute like this so I’ll ask one more time. Is there something distracting you, love?”

“Oh!” You start, “Oh no—not really—” you ramble out and sit up a bit straighter when Lando sits next to you in the golf cart, resting an elbow on the steering wheel as his hand moves back to his chin, swiping his thumb on your lower lip, “just thinking about…things,” you murmur while nodding, more so trying to convince yourself then Lando, “that’s all.”

“What were you thinking about?” He smirks.

You squirm slightly under his gaze while glancing at Lando before letting your gaze drift around. Nobody else was around, which wasn’t a surprise considering you and your boyfriends decided to go golfing only an hour after the rain stopped even though the clouds still hung around, the sun was coming out. At least Lewis was kind enough to tip the workers very well as a thank you. Speaking of, your gaze lands on Lewis who is still by the golf tee, texting someone intensely which means Lewis is distracted.

Glancing back, you’re met with sea green eyes that meet your gaze. There’s a dark fire burning in them that you know screams lustful trouble. You knew better than to give into this temptation. You were in public for christ sake and the last thing you wanted was to get in trouble but you’ve been dying to get your hands on his mullet and it’s right here.

Trouble be damned, you slide closer to Lando, letting a hand make its way around his neck and you start to run your fingers carefully through his curly mullet. You gently scratch his neck as Lando rests his head on your shoulder. You gasp silently when warm lips brush against your neck teasingly. You bite your bottom lip harshly feeling Lando nip at your neck to stay quiet as you press your thighs together. You yank his hair slightly feeling his hand slide between your thighs.

“Lando,” You murmur as a warning trying to close your legs.

“Shhh,” Lando murmurs in your ear. You shiver hearing that stupid smirk in his words as a finger traces the waistband of your skirt on your skin shifting so one of his legs caught yours and forced your legs open for him. You whine softly as his hand starts to slip under the waistband.

You gasp when Lando’s head is yanked back and your eyes flick up to Lewis, standing behind Lando while holding his head back to look up at the older Brit. Lewis is looking down at Lando before his gaze finally makes it over to you and he raises a brow, “what do we have, here?” Lewis asks.

You stare at the older male then at Lando because you have two options. You can either go down with the ship or save yourself. Typically, you’d probably go down with Lando but you were still recovering from two nights ago when you and Lando decided to send Lewis some rather risky photos while he was at the factory. The memory of being being sat in Lewis lap having orgasm after orgasm from Lando, who was on his knee for that entire time eating you out and that was about a good…two hours before Lewis had showed you some mercy by letting you lay on the couch while Lewis had Lando bent over the coffee table an apologizing mess.

“I tried to warn him.” You admit to Lewis.

“Y/N!” Lando manages before he groans slightly when Lewis tugs his hair a bit more while Lewis leans over him, "Sorry,” Lando breaths out.

Lewis shakes his head while looking down at him, “you just love to cause trouble don’t you, you fucking brat,” Lewis smirks at Lando’s feigned innocent smile. He looks at you and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up. “Meanwhile, Y/N over here is being such a little angel for me.”

“She is not,” Lando breathes out, “She was enjoying it more than what she’s leading on.”

Lewis hums softly and thinks it over, “Well, I’m not too sure about that. I did interrupt before anything fun could happen, but.” Lewis leans down, “it seems that out of the two of you, you typically are the one that initiates trouble and y/n has such a pure heart to not let you get punished on your own. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You bit your bottom lip gently while nodding in agreement, “That’s right.”

“See? She’s so kind,” Lewis praises as he leans over to give you a peck, “unlike a certain brat.”

“Well, someone has to keep things lively,” Lando muses, “Besides I never hear either of you complain.”

“You’re right, we don’t complain,” Lewis starts, “we love it very much but sometimes, we just want an easy and I just want you to behave for me. Like today, it was supposed to be an easy day with golfing and cuddling but now I have to punish you for misbehaving.” Lewis shakes his head softly, “what am I going to do with you?” Lewis hums looking between the two of you and grins, “I know exactly what to do.”

It was a miracle that the golf cart made it back to its area in one piece. Even though it only went up to 20 miles per hour Lewis made it feel like it was going much faster with how determined he was to get the three of you off the course after telling Lewis your idea. Lando was growing more excitedly anxious while you sat between the two of them, curious to see what is suppose to happen.Lewis had given you the keys to the Mercedes, telling you and Lando to head over early as he wrapped up and you happily obliged with Lando giving Lewis a mock salute and following.

“Lando,” you start when you two are close to the car when Lando is pressing against your back, kissing his neck. Lando murmurs something into your skin as you tilt your head to give Lando better access as you unlock the car. You get the back door open before you yelp when Lando gives a sharp slap to your ass, whipping around, “Lando!”

“What?” He feigns innocence as he pulls you close by your hips. He lets his hands travel down to your ass to gently rub soothing circles where he slapped before grabbing your ass, “Am I supposed to just stare? Can’t touch it now?”

You giggle softly while wrapping your arms around his neck. You let Lando back you up to the car as you hum softly, “I suppose that wouldn’t be fair.”

Lando grins before leaning down and catching your lips in a kiss. You let a hand find its way back into the mullet as Lando tilts your head, deepening the kiss. You moan softly which gives Lando a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He stumbles you backwards, breaking the kiss to help you into the back seat before climbing in after you. He shuts the door but something stops it and Lando whips his head around to see Lewis holding the door handle. “Oh,” he says breathlessly and laughs, “Lew. Jesus.”

“Sorry,” Lewis chuckles sheepishly, “didn’t have the heart to interrupt the show.”

You giggle softly while scooting over so Lewis could climb in. Once he was in, you comfortably sat back in your corner watching Lewis pull Lando into a searing kiss by the back of his neck. You fanned yourself watching because it should not be as hot as it was watching Lando just crumble under Lewis’ touch slowly but surely. When they finally pulled away to catch their breath, you didn’t even want to join in. You were much happier just sitting in your corner watching Lando turn into a mess as the curly hair driver was now straddling Lewis, kissing and nipping at his neck for more attention.

You lock eyes with Lewis and he just nods his head slightly. You immediately crawl over and Lando lets out a huff when Lewis shifts him to straddle one thigh while you straddle the other. You’re cupping Lewis’ face and kissing him stupid. You pull back before slinking off of Lewis thigh.

You and Lewis work together to get into position. Lewis manages to turn Lando before having him sit in Lewis' lap. While Lewis pulls Lando’s into another kiss, you move yourself to the floor. It’s a bit tighter than you anticipated but you made it work. You glance up, seeing Lando’s with his head back on Lewis shoulder gasping and whining. Lewis was murmuring in his ear while one hand was up Lando’s shirt playing with his nipples while the other was loosely messing with Lando’s belt. He glances down when you gently push Lewis’ hand away from Lando’s belt before undoing it.

You stick your tongue out as you fiddle with the belt while Lando squirms above. You huff before smacking his inner thigh gently causing him to yelp out of shock, “stop moving!” You tell him as you get the belt undone before undoing Lando’s shorts.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You ask.

“Could you do me a big favor?” Lewis asks, “could you go into the glove compartment and grab me the travel lube? Please?”

“Of course!” You take a hot minute to turn so your back is to your boyfriends and lean over the counsel and just get the glove compartment open. You shift to lean a bit more as you dig through, listening to the sound of kisses and soft gasps and whines. “Oh, was someone eager?” You hear Lewis behind you, “Was a good enough boy to at least your butt plug.” You put your lips together tightly as if you were eating a lemon to keep from laughing out loud as Lando just murmurs something before he groans out in pleasure before he tries to quiet himself.

“Found it!” You announce happily as you lean back offering the travel lube to Lewis. The second that it’s out of your hand you’re leaning forward to close the glove compartment while behind you Lewis and Lando shuffled around before Lando . When you turn around, Lando is now sitting in Lewis’ lap. He was panting slightly his back against Lewis chest, shorts and boxers now pulled down, face flushed.

“Ah, there we go,” Lewis purrs while hooking his chin on Lando’s shoulder. You watch Lewis’s hands moving down to stroke Lando’s cock, making you kneel right there as he does so, “You’re very pretty as a brat,” Lewis whispers but besides Lando’s gasps and whines, you can hear Lewis, “but you’re much prettier when you’re like this.” Lando manages out a breathless “Yes sir,” while gripping Lewis’ arm like a lifeline.

Lewis drags his teeth against Lando’s neck, finally biting a mark on his pretty skin (which you’re jealous of since you’ve been wanting to do that all day) but you’re getting more flustered while looking semi-embarrassed, turning as red as Ferrari’s suit and ducking your head. But Lewis is quick to snap his fingers and motions for you to rest his head against Lando's bare thigh while he works. You hesitate but do what is asked with Lewis praising you, "just keep looking here baby. Don't look away from how pretty Lando's being for you,” and Lewis goes back to working Lando up. "See? Look at how well behaved Y/N is? You see what happens when you behave? You get rewarded. We should probably do something to reward her...right?"

You watch Lando swallow a strangle cry probably because the three of you were in a mainly empty parking lot and currently doing—this. You see Lewis use his free hand to slip up Lando’s shirt to grab his chin, forcing the younger Brit to look at him, “Well? Do you think Y/N deserves a reward?” “I—mm yeah,” Lando manages out, “but I thought—”

“Oh trust me. I didn’t forget about you.” Lewis grins and kisses him, “you are going to sit here on my cock so pretty for me while Y/N enjoys her reward and let us just use you how we see fit, is that okay?” Grabbing his jaw a bit harsher, “and the only time you can cum is when I decide. Understood?”

Lando whines but nods. “I—yes sir,” Lando says softly while digging his nails a bit more into Lewis' skin, “I understand.” Lewis hisses feeling Lando digging into his arm. In return, Lewis leans down to nip at Lando’s neck, leaving another mark while rolling his hips up. Lando arches his back and moans loudly, squirming slightly. “Oh fuck—”

Lando completely ignores the reaction he pulls from the younger driver while using his free hand to brush your cheek. He shifts a little further forward and ushers you up. "Come on, you’ve earned a reward for being so good and not following this brat’s lead for trouble. Go on," He urges, nodding his head before you get the picture. You look up at Lewis and Lando before adjusting your kneeling position the best you can.Then you duck your head and wrap your lips around Lando’s cock, replacing Lewis’ hand. Immediately, you hollow your cheeks out when you start sucking the other off.

“Such good sweethearts, both of you,” Lewis says above directed at both of you. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks and neck as your lips stretch over the girth of Lando’s cock. It earns a strangled cry from Lando as Lewis speaks. "Fuck you two are just too pretty," he moans, rolling his hips up into Lando, earning another gasp and moan as Lando bucks his hips forward slightly. It causes you to choke on Lando briefly and when you pull back, there's a string of spit connecting your lips to Lando still. “Oh are you okay sweetheart?” Lewis purrs softly, “Lando isn’t being rude, right?”

“No, no he’s not being rude. Just, surprised was all,” you admit.

“Well, why don’t you take a bit of a break?”

You blink and nod slightly as you lean back, panting softly. You press your thighs together when you’re reminded just how strong these drivers are as you watch Lewis grab Lando’s hips hard enough to lease bruises before Lewis is practically using Lando as a toy. You watch Lewis manage to pick Lando up before slamming him down. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head as he grips onto Lewis, doing exactly what he was told. Sitting there, looking pretty, and letting you two use him however you two saw fit.

Really this shouldn't be turning you on as much as it is, but it is. Lewis is really hot when he gets all commanding like this, switching off from fucking Lando senseless to you sucking Lando off while Lando is being pampered and gets the praises he deserves and looks so sexy as he’s begging Lewis to show him any mercy and - you stick your tongue on the underside the younger drivers's cock, swallowing him down even more, some of your hair falling in your face when Lewis gently guides your head back dow. You know that your jaw is probably going to be sore tomorrow and you probably won’t be able to get in this car for a bit without getting flustered but you do not care right now when your boyfriends are being this hot right now.

"Look at her, Lan," Lewis breathes when he sees you giving into the job, "look at how much she's loving this,” you glance up seeing Lewis pampering Lando in kisses. Lando was breathing heavily, face and chest flushed. Hair stuck to his forehead from sweat while his cheeks were slick with both sweat and tears. His eyes are slightly red and glassy but he seems so gone in subspace. Lando almost sobs when you deep throat him, burying his face in Lewis neck as his hands fly to your hair to find purchase, holding onto your hair as you start bobbing your head again, randomly deep throating him to keep things interesting.

Pulling off, you pant while looking up, biting your bottom lip as you smile when Lewis strokes your cheek, “Oh, what a good little slut for you’re being - and only for us.” Lewis starts, “You think it’s time for Lando to have mercy?” You look your other boyfriend over and nod. “Okay. Well, how do you want him? Down your throat or all over your face? Tell me what you want."

Your brain short circuits because you swore that Lewis was going to make this decision, not you. This feels like a big decision and you aren’t really sure what to pick as you squirm in your spot, “I—um,” you start before Lewis is grabbing your hair and guiding you to look up at him a bit harshly, "Y/N," Lewis warns, "you have to use your words. Or we will stop and I will fuck Lando silly in the backseat and neither of you will get off. You understand me, don’t you? Tell me what you want."

You let your mouth fall open before closing your mouth and swallowing the lump in your throat. As much as you would love to see your boyfriends have sex, the idea of not getting off was the only thing that made the idea slightly unappealing. This was your reward so you found it a bit rude that you were now in the position where you couldn’t properly enjoy it. “I k—I understand sir,” you correct yourself swiftly, “I—” might as well go big since you’re already here giving a blowjob in a car, “I want Lando to come on my face, please.”

“Such a pretty slut,” Lewis whispers to you while gently pulling you up closer to him. You shift before he pulls you in into a kiss so searing that neither of you remember how long it lasts but he knows when it's done, he has both you and him gasping for air. “Whatever our princess wants is what she gets. He murmurs, “Now why don’t you sit back.” You nod quickly as you sit back. Lewis makes Lando look and he groans seeing the state you were in and you could only imagine how you looked. Lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, eyes glossy. Lando tries to look away but Lewis catches his chin and forces him to look while his other hand replaces your lips and starts to stroke Land again. "Come on baby," he goads, moving them closer, angling them so his cock is pointed right at your face. "Give her what she wants. Paint his pretty whore face," he growls, the slick making an obscene noise. "Y/N, open your fucking mouth and stick our your tongue," he commands, voice rough. Your eyes widen for a second but you also follow that command, hands resting on Lando's knees and opening his mouth, waiting patiently. "See love?" Lewis whispers, pressing his lips to Lando's temple. "See how good she's being? Now be good for us and come over Y/N's face, yeah? Paint it for us."

Lando is so overstimulated between Y/N and Lewis that he can’t even remember his own name right now. He whines loudly when Lewis shifts slightly to kiss Y/N, feeling Lewis shift inside him and god if he didn’t get to finish soon, he was going to become the worst possible person for Lewis to handle. He groans loudly, melting into Lewis chest while jerking his hips into Lewis hand, eyes closed and head tipped back. He forces his head up to look at you and he lets out a strangled noise because oh fuck. You should not look this gorgeous right now with your tongue out and eyes on him. "Uh huh," Lando manages because it’s all he can muster.

There’s no warning. No heads up. Not even a single noise. Lando’s orgasm hits him hard and fast and unsuspectingly that Lando just lets his mouth fall open silently as he arches his back, legs shaking, and eyes rolling into the back of his head. Lewis is murmuring praises while running his free hand through Lando’s hair while you get a second to close your eyes because the last thing you want is seamen in the eye. You open your eyes when Lewis gently coaxes you to. Both Lando and Lewis moan softly seeing the absolute mess Lando made of your face. You blush slightly before you close your mouth and swallow whatever made it onto your tongue before sticking your tongue out again.

“Such a good princess for us,” Lewis praises, “did you enjoy your reward?”

“I did.”

“Did someone learn why they need to behave?” Lewis asks.

Lando hums while slumped against Lewis' chest, “yeah,” he murmurs, “I did. Not going to change anything.”

“We wouldn’t want it any other way,” you giggle and Lewis laughs.

“Okay baby,” Lewis rubs Lando’s back, “think you’d be good sitting for a bit while Y/N and I finish up?”

Lando groans softly and whines, “noooo,” he starts. “Just–five minutes?” Lando asks.

You sit next to Lewis and giggles softly while kissing Lando’s other temple, “sure baby. I can wait five minutes. I’m not in a rush. Babe?”

“I can manage waiting five minutes,” Lewis smiles as you and Lewis happily smother Lando into kisses. That is until Lando becomes a bit more coherent and stupidly says,

“You know this is the first time I lasted more than 10 minutes off my meds…oh my god. It’s like–a hole in one–”

“BOOOOOO.”

“Lando, that was horrible–”

“GOD FORBID I SPEAK THE TRUTH–”

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lionneee · 4 months ago

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Aemond’s victory

English is not my first language, please be kind

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Taglist

•Warnings: p in v, smut, kissing, taking of sexual themes, chocking, incest, mention of character death, mention of dragon death•

OC!Aemond x Sister!Reader

“Aemond— Someone’s gonna see—“ She mumbled as she gripped the top of the roof wall. Her skirts raised over her waist, bend over the wall, as Aemond kept thrusting slowly, but hard and harshly every time, making her jolt forward at every hit.

“No worries, sister, they’re never gonna see us—“ He growled as he gripped her hips tighter, digging his fingers in her skin.

She grunted as she started hearing the parade getting closer. She looked down at the crowd of people, running to get a look of what was going on.

“Aemond—“ She moaned as she moved one of her hands over his hand.

“Shh, just feel me, sister. Your big brother has returned as a winner, won’t you congratulate him?” He smirked, watching how his cock disappeared between her legs, feeling her wet walls enveloping him, sucking him in.

“Yes—“ She moaned. “Yes I want to—“ She gasped as he moved his hand to grip her shoulder, pushing her back against him, the skin of her ass and thighs moving in waves at the hit, the sounds of skin slapping getting louder, accompanied by the sounds of her wetness.

“I told you I would have celebrated inside you, sister— I always get what I want.” He growled as he started to speed up.

“Oh— Yes, yes, brother— Please—“ She could hear the sound of honks and a bell coming closer.

“Behold!”

“Please? You want to make me feel good, mh?” He started pushing in fast, always harder.

“The traitor dragon Meleys!”

She raised her head immediately, looking down, her eyes meeting the white eyes of Meleys head.

“See what I’ve brought you, sister?” Aemond pushed her forward, forcing her to take a few steps forward, making her straight up a bit. He hugged her from behind, his hips stilling.

“A little spoil from the fight. All for you.” He whispered in her ear, breathing in the scent of her hair.

“Rhaenys?” She asked, as she couldn’t tear her gaze off the dragon. He moved his arm around her neck, pulling her back, making her arch her back as he thrusted with force, bending his arm enough to constrain her breathing barely.

She gasped in surprise, wrapping her hands around his arm.

“She’s dead. After how she threatened us— you, at Aegon’s coronation?” He growled. “She brought it upon herself.”

“Slain at Rook’s Rest, by your King.”

Aemond growled as he heard that, and she could feel him thrusting again, his hips hitting her ass with force.

“I killed her.” He growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I killed her for you.”

His words sent a strange shiver down her back, a mix of concern, affection and lust.

“No one touches you— No one threatens you— My queen.”

Her gaze fell on a little carriage. A big box hidden by clothes, and pieces of clothing.

“Aemond— What happened?” She gasped, trying to turn her head to look at him, but his arm around her neck didn’t allow her.

“I won. That’s what happened.” He hissed in her ear. His hand moved underneath her skirts, reaching the bound of nerves hidden between her legs.

He started caressing it in quick moves.

“And now.” He thrusted harder. “You’re gonna thank me for it.” He pressed his forehead against the back of her head. “You’re gonna come. You’re gonna thank me— come for me—“

“Aemond— Oh— Oh Gods—“ She moaned loudly, clenching around him, feeling the tension in her stomach about to snap.

He had slain a dragon for her.

He moved one head from his arm to reach the back of his head, throwing her head back, exposing her neck to him, making him groan.

“Don’t do that. Don’t. I can’t mark you there, and you know it.” He growled, his voice restrained. “You’re trying to remember me you're not my wife yet? Mh?” She could hear the frustration in his voice, and his words frustrated her too.

“Aemond— I’m gonna come—“ She moaned.

A dragon. For her.

“Come, sister.” He grunted. “Come on my cock, wet it all over—“

He kept pushing and pushing, thrusting as fast and hard as he could, trying to bring her over the edge, to make her come hard.

“Oh Gods— Aemond…” She moaned loudly, panting for air as she felt the tension in her stomach snap, coming with a loud grunt, her legs shaking, as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her.

“Yes— Yes, Aemond- Oh, it’s so good—“ She moaned as Aemond let go of her, taking a step back to pull out.

“On your knees.” He ordered immediately. She quickly turned around, falling to her knees. He gripped her hair, yanking her closer, jerking himself fast as his sperm spilled on her tongue and face, his hand too.

As they walked into the King chambers, she was met with a horrifying view.

Aegon, burned, laying on his bed, the Maesters all around him, trying to peel off the armor from his skin.

Their mother looking from afar, her expression contorted in a mixture of uneasy from the smell and sight, and concern for her son.

Aemond stepped in front of the bed, looking down at his brother as he leaned towards the bed structure.

She knew that look.

And recognising it now, with their brother reduced like that, she couldn’t tell if it was good or not.

She saw that look the night he returned after Storm’s End.

When he killed Luke.

That night, he was sorry, he felt guilty, despite that, she could tell he was satisfied, no matter how guilty what he did made him feel.

There was no guilt in that look.

Just pride and satisfaction.

“Gōntan gaomā bisa naejot zirȳla, lēkia?”

-Did you do this, brother?-

She asked, looking at him from his side. She could feel the gaze of their mother on her, desperately trying to catch something of their words. Not that she would have understood them anyway.

“Iksis ziry daor īlva kȳvanon? syt nyke naejot sagon dārys, Se ao, ñuha dāria? ñuha ābrazȳrys?” He answered, his eye never leaving Aegon.

-Is it not our plan? For me to be king, and you, my queen? My wife?-

“Ossēnagon īlva dārys kessa gaomagon īlva daor sȳz.”

-Kill our king will do us no good.-

She said, frustrated. If Aemond committed treason, all would be lost.

“Iā mittys hen iā dārys.”

-A fool of a king.-

He replied coldly.

“Iēdrosa īlva dārys.”

-Still our king.-

She sighed, looking at Aegon again. She couldn’t deny his words, nor blame him for wanting to speed up the process, having gotten the opportunity.

“Mh.” He simply replied. She knew he was well aware of what he risked. She trusted Criston to not say a word about what he did, but she was still scared someone else might. He turned his head to look at her, his single eye burning in hers.

“Gaomagon daor zūgagon, mandia. Kostā pāsagon nyke. Kesi jiōragon skoros jaeli”

-Do not fear, sister. You can trust me. We will get what we want.-

It was a promise. He will take care of her.

She took a deep breath and simply nodded, as Aemond gaze returned to their brother.

“Someone-” He straightened up. “- will have to rule on his stead.” He looked at their mother.

Just the idea sent a spark of lust down her body, and she had to clench her thighs together.

Aemond looked at her with a smirk before walking out.

Him. King.

Taglist: @ka1afbr @cynic-spirit @ladythornofrivia @zenka69 @queenofthekeep @adorewhatever @diannnnsss @kotadislikesthissite @iloveallmyboys @valyrianflower @dixie-elocin @gelacat0413 @quinquinquincy @mamawiggers1980 @darylandbethfanforever9 @rhaethoughts @believeinthefireflies95

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iloveboysinred · 7 months ago

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Under the Canopy [Firelord Zuko]

Mdni 18+ content | Firelord! Zuko x Reader

Synopsis; Being Firelord had been taking up all your husband’s time. It was hard trying to be a supportive wife by keeping your own desires to yourself.

cw; fem!reader, sexually explicit content, messy oral sex (giving and receiving), fluffy smut, smut with feelings. P in V sex, two seconds of subby Zuko if you squint, split second of overstimulating the firelord, slight mentions of exhibitionism, kinda long and written by an amateur. ;<

; 3291 words

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Sorry for the way the paragraphs are formatted, apparently tumblr’s servers cant handle long paragraphs 😒

GIF by @/choschang

It was quiet in the Fire Nation tonight.

You sat by Zuko’s study in your shared room, watching him work. He was writing letters in response to the leaders of the other nations, addressing their concerns as well as handling issues within his own nation. It took all his focus, brush in his hand sliding around on the parchment with precision. While you, left quiet and nothing to do, occasionally took the time to study him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he wrote, his steady hand occasionally pausing to dip his brush in the ink to continue writing on the scroll. The task seemed so simple, but you could see in his eyes he was beginning to grow tired. Zuko has been up long nights as well as enduring equally as draining meetings with diplomats, generals, and his advisors, all in the name of restoring peace to the world, and honor to the Fire-Nation. After the 100-year war, the burden of his forefather’s mistakes fell on Zuko and Aang, working restlessly to reverse 100 years of oppression, which of course, was no easy task. Paired with the uprising of rebellions, and the daunting task of earning the trust of his people and the whole world, being Firelord has kept your husband occupied and stressed.

Many times you found yourself in the same exact place you are now, leaning over the edge of the desk, offering little comments of advice and correcting his grammar, ignoring his occasional demands you get your rest. These long nights were the only alone time you and your husband could enjoy together right now, even if its just you sitting by his side quietly as he worked. Occasionally he would reach over and tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to let you know he appreciated your presence.

Your heart craved more than gentle hand squeezes and rushed pecks here and there, you missed the warmth of your husband. Many nights you’d lay alone in your extravagant bed, longing for the tender love and passionate touches only Zuko could provide. The silk red and maroon bedsheets reminding you of your husband’s insatiable appetite for your body. Your mind wandered back to your first few nights as newlyweds, when Zuko fucked you on any surface he could hold you up against. His hips rocking into yours hastily, pussy drunk and inexperienced, making his pace desperate. But by the time night had fallen, he had gained plenty of practice on exactly how to please you, making sweet love to you under the stars, not caring how loud you were or who saw you.

You rubbed your hand up the side of your neck, once constantly covered in angry red and purple marks. All gifted from your needy husband who couldn’t keep his lips off of your skin. You sighed, shifting your position on the chair you had taken next to the study. You tried to shake off the creeping arousal you started to feel in your core.

Zuko had to work. It would be selfish to interrupt him.

But you couldn’t help but want to be selfish. The bed behind you looked emptier than it has ever been. The duvet crisply folded over top of the cool, silk red sheets underneath pressed to perfection, not a single wrinkle in sight. Your soft, elegant pillows perfectly arranged in various shades of burgundy and red. All sitting on top of a strong, oak bed frame. A huge tapestry of the fire nation insignia hanging from the wall. Your gaze seemed to stick to the canopy you had specifically asked your husband to have built for you. The thick curtains now tied neatly to their posts. You pictured the lazy mornings you had with Zuko, your legs spread and comfortably resting on his shoulders, his head buried in between your thighs sloppily getting his fill of you. You’d thread your fingers through his hair, lightly grinding your pussy onto his face, urging his tongue deeper. Those very same curtains blocking out the morning light, letting you and Zuko enjoy a little more time with each other.

“Y/n? Cant you hear me talking to you??” bringing you back to the present, you tried to give your husband your undivided attention, your thighs clenched together, your undergarments now damp from your heated arousal. Those filthy thoughts of your husband making your heart race and your clit pulse. “Are you tired or something?” He asked you, tenderly reaching over to place his warm hand on your knee. You jolted at the contact, confusing your lover, who gave you a sideways glance before moving his hand to grasp yours, now resting on your thigh. “N-no i’m not tired baby. I’m just…reminiscing.” Zuko narrowed his eyes at your response, piercing gold looking straight into your soul. “About what?” He questioned, rubbing circles around the back of your palm. The warmth of his hand on your skin made your body tingle. “Well, i’m just thinking about our honeymoon…how I used to have you all to myself. Now it feels like I can barley get two minutes alone with you..” A knowing look overcame Zuko’s face, and you thanked the spirits your husband could read you so well to know what you meant without having to say too much. His cheeks flushed lightly, not expecting an answer of that nature and you smiled warmly at him. He never stopped being bashful, despite being well aquatinted with your needs and desires by now.

“Its okay though, my love. I know you’re busy nowadays. I wouldn’t want you to abandon your duties because of me-“ “come here, love” Zuko interrupted your rambling, pulling his chair away from the study and beckoning you over to sit on his lap. He spread his thighs as you sat down, giving you room to get comfortable. You clung to his robes, and he wrapped his arm around your back, holding you steady against his chest. His other hand rested at your thigh, rubbing and squeezing the soft skin. You felt your clit pulsing between your legs. You were so close to your husband’s dick, resting just under you. The only thing separating you from him being the thick robes that he adorned, and the thin fabric of your panties, now clinging to the damp skin of your pussy. Zuko caressed your back, pressing slow kisses up the length of your shoulder and neck. Nuzzling his nose against your cheek, his warm breath fanned across your skin, you melt into his embrace, breathing out in contentment.

“Tell me exactly what you remember about our honeymoon.” He murmured, sighing blissfully as you threaded your fingers through his hair. You flushed, timidly hiding your face in his neck as you recounted the filthy thoughts you had been thinking about just minutes before. “Well..i was thinking about the first night on Ember Island” you mumbled, moaning when you felt Zuko sucking on your neck, already attempting to leave a hickey on the skin of your throat. “ mmm..mind telling me the details?” His raspy voice made your heart skip a beat, light breaths escaped you as Zuko continued kissing your jaw, his other hand creeping up your thigh, causing your night dress to hike up, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You stilled as his hand ghosted over the skin of your inner thigh, dangerously close to your core. “I was thinking about how you put me up against the wall.. you fucked me so good that night. You always do” you breathed, shivering when you felt your husband’s finger ghosting over the flimsy panties stuck to your skin “And what else?” you barely heard him, the ache between your legs and his teasing was mind numbing. “I just miss you so much, Zuko.” you confessed, your voice was close to whiney, trying to pull at your husband’s heartstrings as much as you can. Zuko hummed, his hands tracing over the lining of your panties, thumb rubbing over the fabric covering your mound. Your breath hitched, the cotton clinging to your lips. He traced over the indent of your pussy, never once taking the soiled fabric off your skin. It was torture, the way his finger pressed slow circles over your clit, the friction of the fabric against you driving you insane. “I want you so bad baby, please” you whined, pressing yourself into his hand. You just about cried with relief when you felt your husband’s fingers slip past the band of your panties, right into your entrance. You arched your hips up, chasing the pleasure.

Zuko smirked against your neck, curling his fingers deliciously against your g-spot, his fingers moving in and out of you steadily. “Zuko..” you sighed, trying your best to fuck yourself against his hand, your hips matching the push and pull of his fingers. “Yes, my love?” He murmured against your ear, knowing exactly what you wanted. But you knew your husband. You knew he wanted you to use your words. “I want you to fuck me..” you whispered, grinding down against his semi-hard dick the best you could with his hand in the way, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. Zuko groaned at the contact, looking into your eyes, glazed over in desperate arousal, lust dancing in his own golden irises. Faster than you could even think, Zuko picked you up off his lap, hastily laying you down on your shared bed. The cooling red silk of your bedsheets felt pleasant against your heated skin. He leaned down, pressing a heated kiss against your swollen lips and you him kissed back, sloppily sucking his tongue into yours, eagerly grabbing at anything you could reach on your husband’s body. Zuko matched your fervor, with his hands running down your sides, fingers hooking onto the hem of your night dress, rolling the fabric up over your thighs and exposing your clothed sex. He pulled the flimsy fabric off with ease, slowly dragging the soaked garment off of you, discarding it somewhere you didnt see, or care. His hands grabbed the underside of your knees, pulling your legs open and pushing them up to your chest, opening you up for your husband’s hungry gaze.

He was quick, dipping his head down and pressing a wet kiss on your mound, dragging a finger up your slit to spread your pussy open, revealing your soaked folds. Your body shivered, the warm air against your clit sending shockwaves up your spine. You felt so open, completely exposed and at your husband’s mercy. Zuko wasted no time, pressing his warm lips against your clit, he suckled on the sensitive bud slowly, parting from you just to press his hand over the surface of your mound, the firm pressure causing your clitorial hood to inch back, giving your him more access to your bundle of nerves. You whined when he resumed his ministrations, devouring your pussy whole. Your body jolted when his fingers entered your heat, the pleasure almost overwhelming your senses. Zuko moaned against you, eating you like a starved man and fucking his fingers into you, curling inside of you and massaging your walls. You gripped his dark locs, hips bucking into his mouth out of reflex. A warm pool began to form in your stomach, the familiar feeling setting your nerves a light. Zuko spread your thighs, burying his face deeper into you, pulling away from your clit to replace his fingers with his tongue, tasing you whole. You gasped from the welcome intrusion, legs closing around his head, holding him still against you. But your husband was having none of it. He aggressively spread your legs open, tongue fucking you with vigor, fingers coming up to rub quick swipes over your clit. It didn’t take you long for your to reach your release, your vision going white as your body convulsed above him. Chant after chant of Zuko’s name as he continued to eat you out, riding out your high. Your chest rose and fell, your breath labored as you looked down at your husband, his hair now tousled and free from the top knot he had neatly placed it in. His chin was shining with your essence, and his pupils were blown. Even with his disheveled appearance Zuko still looked so handsome, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, just as you had when you first met him. Zuko leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to your navel, leaning up towards you and capturing your lips with his. Then he moved back down to your neck, placing feather light kisses against your skin.

A few moments later you caught your breath, your husband still cuddling against your chest, sucking marks on whatever patch of skin he desired. You tugged at his thick robes, successfully pulling the heavy fabric off your husband’s body with his help. Your eyes racked over his body, drinking in the sight of him. Zuko didn’t bother to move the robes off the bed, instead kneeling on them as he pulled his undergarments off, his hard length slipping out, tip flushed and drooling with pre cum. You pushed your hand gently against his chest, laying him back down and reaching for his dick, wrapping your hand around him. You stroked him from base to tip, twisting your wrist around the head and thumbing over his slit, rubbing his pre cum into his skin. Watching your husband shudder and lean his head back in bliss was rewarding. You lowered down to take him into your mouth, tongue flat against the side of him. Zuko sucked in a sharp breath, his hips stuttering up into your mouth at the sensation. You gazed into his eyes as you swallowed him whole. Holding your breath to stop yourself from gagging, you bobbed your head up and down his entire length, breathing through your nose as best you could. Zuko let out a drawn out moan, throwing his head back. You watched him, face hidden from your view, dark hair splayed out on the pillows. You knew exactly how to make your husband fall apart, and you loved every second. You dragged you tongue up his length, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head, focusing all your efforts where he was most sensitive.

Zuko had been reduced a mess above you, whining your name out and panting, begging you to bring him to orgasm. “Oh fuck baby.. just like that”, “youre doing so good baby”, “you look so pretty sucking my dick like this” were a few of the phrases he slurred, praising you as you pleased him exactly how he liked it. Your free hand came down to cup and rub his balls. Squeezing them gently in time with your bobbing head. You swallowed him down once more, choking against his length as you bobbed your head at his base, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, sending him over the edge. Zuko took a deep breath as him came, his body going rigid as he spilled into your throat. A jumbled mess of curses and your name spilled from his lips as he drowned in bliss. Eventually you pulled off him, stroking his length to milk him for everything he had. Zuko shuddered, pushing your hand off him, feeling over stimulated. But if it was one thing your husband had, it was stamina. Giving himself a few seconds to recover, he was on you again. Flipping you on your back, he wasted no time situating himself between your legs, his flushed tip rubbing poking your skin and his hair curtaining around you as his body leaned over yours. You stared up into his eyes, so many different emotions swimming between you both. Longing, lust, and love. “I love you” he mumbled, leaning down to rub his nose against yours, kissing your lips sweetly. “I love you most, Zuko” you responded, lovingly placing your hand on his cheek, his pressed a kiss to your palm before leaning back up, taking his warmth with him. The loss was soon forgotten when you felt him enter you, your walls expanding to welcome him in. You let out a low moan, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring him closer, deeper. His pace started out slow, rubbing his warm hands down your thighs as he rolled his hips into you, fucking you deep. “Zuko..” you sighed, his name seemingly being the only word your fuzzy brain can remember. “I know baby..” he leaned down towards you again, mouth pressing a kiss to your ear. “Just let me take care of you” he whispered, threading your hands together. His pace soon picked up, his hips meeting your thighs with every thrust. The weight of his body on yours felt amazing, the obscene sounds of your wetness filling the room and fueling his libido. Every thrust into your heat was filled with longing, the same desperation you had reflecting in him as he fucked you eagerly. You shuddered as your husband moaned into your ear, letting out strings of curses and praise as he lost himself in you. “Fuck baby.. i love you, i love how you feel” he slurred, reaching between your sweating bodies to rub at your clit, urging you to near your end. You cried out as you felt his dick beat against your g-spot. Your walls contracting around him, the pleasure in your core almost too much to bear.

The silky sheets under you felt suffocating, seemingly trapping the heat of your bodies. The sensations you felt becoming overwhelming. “Yes baby, yes!” You cried as he continuously hit that spot inside of you, his relentless pace driving you further and further over the edge. “You fuck me so good baby, oh fuck!”your voice reduced to whines, rolling your hips to meet his, fucking him back. “Let it out baby, give it all to me” Zuko grunted in your ear, his own release creeping up behind him. He rubbed your clit in fast circles, desperately chasing your release, as well as his. Your body went rigid as you came, the breath forced out of your lungs. Your walls squeezed and spasmed around Zuko, who bottomed out inside of you, releasing deep into your pussy. He let out a deep groan, his eyes shut tight and his eyebrow furrowed as he lost himself in pleasure. It was a sight to behold, and you considered yourself lucky to have it reserved just for you.

After a few heartbeats Zuko pulled out of you, grabbing one of the towels the maids made sure to leave on your night stand. He dipped it in the water basin, heating up his palm to warm the cloth. He cleaned you up, carefully wiping the mess up from between your legs, pulling the top sheet off the bed and throwing it somewhere on the floor. You sighed in contentment when you were in his arms again, he had taken the canopy down from its posts, the dark curtains blocking out the candle light in your room. Happiness surged through you as you snuggled into him, your back pressed to his bare chest as he tenderly pressed kisses to your shoulder blades. “That was amazing” you whispered, cuddling into his bicep and closing your eyes, enjoying the afterglow. “Yeah, it was” he murmured, wrapping his arm around your mid-section. “I’m sorry i’ve been so busy my love.” He sighed, pulling the discarded duvet over “like i said, its okay baby. Being Firelord isnt an easy job.. your nation comes first” you sleepily assured him, nodding off in the warmth of his embrace. “But you matter too..i promise i’ll make time for us. I’ll ask my advisors for more help. I’ll get through this as quick as i can” you smiled against him, bringing his hand up to press a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Okay baby” you mumbled “i love you…” “ i love you too, y/n. So, so much” he whispered, putting out the candles in your room, tugging you closer to him. You slept peacefully that night, and in the morning your husband helped himself to another serving of you, just as he always had before.

Reblogs and notes appreciated :> hope you enjoyed!

Edited and final proofread; 04/28/24

#zuko smut #zuko x reader #❥iloveboysinred #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #atla x reader #atla smut

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kiss-me-muchoo · 11 months ago

Text

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬, 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞 || 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠!𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one: stop, you’re losing me || part two: in the trees, in the breeze (here)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ your memory kept haunting Coriolanus Snow, so he found the way to end his exile. It’s a new era, but the same old feelings between Coriolanus and you keep causing scandals. Although, you are not ready to let go the pain he caused to you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ Capitol ballerina!reader, angst, drama, violence and death lol, jealousy, unhinged Coriolanus, sex mentions, reader still has health problems, etc. 13k words fic IM SORRY

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ hear this along Can’t catch me now, I’m not an OR fan but I love that song from her. I mean, who didn’t? And thank you for the wait and loveeeee. PLEASE TELL ME OF ANY ERRORS BC I CAN’T BE ALMOST ACCUSED OF BEING TRANSPHOBIC PLEASEEEE

♪ ♫ awful Coriolanus Snow playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

_____________________________________________

Red, blue, red, red, yellow, green, green, pink.

Every color is correctly marked. A nurse smiles with some papers on her hand before she dissapears.

You can get dressed again. The color test was done, your vision was okay.

Purple and green bruises are scattered across your skin. Some appeared on your inner thighs. Two on your knees and one on the ribs from the day you collapsed after the post-Hunger Games celebration. You sigh covering your skin with a long floral dress. The reflection of yourself on the mirror salutes you with a tired, broken and sad face. It makes you force a smile, pretending more people were watching you. The room in empty though.

“Everything is fine. Your body is responding well to the shots.” A doctor asks as soon as he walks in into the room.

“The only thing that worries me is your mental health. Have you been stressed or has anything happened to you that could be considered a traumatic experience?”

The pointe shoes soaked in blood. The unstoppable bleeding on your feet. The late nights with panic attacks and over thinking. That young blonde man and the songbird together. The night on dressing room, how your hand burned after slapping the man so hard. The shock of all the events surrounding your life two weeks ago. How you lost control, your head spinning, blurred vision, heart pounding, numb arms and how you felt the oxygen was leaving. All the things you did for someone who never deserved you, making you shatter, fainting as soon as you finished dancing.

“Miss y/l/n… Are you okay?” The distant voice of the doctor breaks your bubble. You shake your head in disguise before turning away from the mirror, facing him and smiling politely.

“Yes, I’m fine. I was very stressed, yeah. Working with the production of the Hunger Games. My artistic performances, last days at the Academy. It was a lot…” the doctor sighs, annotating something. He then handed you the paper.

“I’m giving you some treatment for that. And please, you have to be careful and calm. Only that way the medicine will help everything to work here” he points his head. You nod, accepting the paper.

After that, you leave the private hospital. Trevor is there, your chauffeur and friend. He smiles, opening the door for you.

“Thank you, Trevor” he starts the car soon after.

“Is everything okay?” You nod, looking at the bright day at the Capitol.

“I just need to relax and eat well.” Trevor had trimmed his hair. It made him look younger, making you smile at the memory of him saying his wife was his hairstylist.

“Good. Oh, I received a call from your mother. This woman…uh, Dr. Volumnia Gaul? She wants to see you at the Univeristy today” you frown to look at him confused.

“Oh? So… Can we go now?” He nods, turning left to start the route. Meanwhile, you wonder what could she want. You made your part, the games had a higher amount of viewers compared to last year. You engaged with the production and the celebration was at full capacity. Your little accident even made it more attractive to the media. Appearing on the papers and magazines across Panem.

And after everything, you still wanted to keep dancing. Or else range would consume you.

…

It’s the first time you step inside the Capitol’s University. It’s very similar to the Academy, but the floor tiles are green and white. There’s a lot of white, cream, golden and black decorating the halls and long stairs.

Since it’s summer, most of the building was empty. Only some of the staff, and very few people who seemed like students. You see they dress very elegant. Some women wore hats with feathers or flowers. The men wore classy suits and you genuinely thought you would fit in.

You couldn’t wait to have some sense of normality as a Univeristy student along Clemensia and Lysistrata. Your only close friends left. Well, also Festus and Sejanus. At the time, you didn’t event know your dear friend was dead.

What seems like the private office of Gaul has a red door. Inside, she had a laboratory, smaller but weirder than the one you had seen before. Full of dissected creatures, tanks and crystal containers with unknown chemicals.

Some steps further and you see her desk, where she is collecting some folders and putting them away in some shelves.

“Glad to see you breathing, miss y/l/n…” somehow you found the humor to smile coldly.

“As you can see.” You reply standing perfectly correct.

“By this point you should know what happened to Mr. Snow” goosebumps make you shake your shoulders slightly, you nod again.

“He was exiled. Twenty years. He lied to me and did not said a thing about cheating on the games”

“Indeed. However this morning, I just discovered he bribed a woman to be sent to District 12.” You bite your tongue to hide your fury. A hot feeling invade your chest in rage. But you just breathe, failing to not show discontent.

“That’s not any of my business anymore.” Even Gaul seems taken aback. However, she doesn’t say anything, she just keeps pulling away the pile of folders.

“Well, since it seems you both parted ways… I must share that I’m deleting any record or data related to the 10th Hunger Games. Too many things happened before, during and after the games. Things that would compromise the reputation of the whole organization. Including me, the Academy, the mentors, you and Mr. Snow” honestly, you don’t know what to say. You just frown slightly, demonstrating how confused you were. But you also understood with half of the context. The death of Arachne, Coriolanus and his odd ways to make his songbird oustand, the rebel attack, Lucy Gray Baird winning from cheat. And the things you didnt know like Sejanus entering the arena.

However, you stick to your parent’s advice. You have to think about you and anyone else.

“I understand. But I did my part. I completed my task so I hope this decision doesn’t jeopardize my grant” she smiles. Dr. Gaul secretly believed that you and Coriolanus Snow could rule Panem together. In a sick and evil way, so she really hoped her dark intentions would work.

“Of course not. We had a deal. The views went up this year. You brought a new vision for the promotion that I’ll hardly let go.” The ambition started tickling you. Making you roll your tongue inside your closed mouth, at the verge of opening it and talking.

“Good.”

“In fact, you would be a nice option to become head of the promotion and relations team.” From the last games, you realized the director only gave instructions but he rarely did the dirty job. You liked having some power over the games. And now, a childish and unjustified resentment towards District 12 made you smile as Gaul offered you a new job.

“Is it a possible option to be working in behalf of my mother’s institution?”

“You’re very smart, y/n y/l/n. You are going further than Mr. Snow” your smile only grows, knowing you are nit being correct. You are letting the rage and resentment to guide you. You will make your last name shine brighter than your parents did. Just to rub it in the face of certain blonde who was now exiled. Probably savoring the country life of District 12.

“I just want to make my family’s name bigger than it already is” the woman giggles, taking out a red envelope and handing it you.

“I assume you’ll pursue the arts as you’re speciality. But if you want to get involved with the production, marketing and relations. You are taking politics and some lessons with me” when you look down at the envelope, the golden logo of the university is greeting you. It’s the admission letter.

“I expect to see you here by the end of the summer” you nod, thanking her.

And as you walk outside where Trevor is waiting for you, you have a cocky smile. Feelings like things could go better. You don’t even remember the doctor’s appointment you were in before coming to see Gaul.

…

Your soft hands gently brush against his forehead. Coriolanus had chills, he hadn’t had fever since he was 15 years old. But your hands are so soft even when they feel cold as ice. He just knows he’s in his bed. In his rottening penthouse. He can see a slightly blurred image of you, wearing a green dress, your hair in a braid, a golden necklace, dark purple lips. He can’t hear your words, but you are talking to him, spreading some cream across his chest, immediately he felt the mint soothing his cough and pain. He must’ve said something funny, because he can now see clearly your face, gorgeous as always. And he can clearly hear you laughing.

Coriolanus wakes up smiling. And he realised he was dreaming.

He was in a small and creaky lower bunk bed. Sejanus sleeping in the upper bunk. The sun hasn’t come up. And he’s a peacekeeper in District 12.

It’s been weeks since he left the Capitol. And since day one, you seem to be haunting him.

Current dreams of you, swearing to be hearing your voice. It makes him want to call you every single day. But he doesn’t. He was able to forget about you when he was in the peacekeeper training and duties. When he was with Lucy Gray any trace of you was gone. But as soon as he had a moment alone, he would remember everyhting about you.

He missed you. Painfully a lot.

Every Friday, he had been sending the letters. He hoped your mother would hand them to you. But Coriolanus knew you too well to know you likely would not be reading them. Nonetheless, he was letting himself to write the most vulnerable pieces of him, putting his heart on each word and phrase. Hoping that by the time his exile was over, you would have forgiven him.

When the sun came up, he was up along the rest of the boys. Sejanus gives him a friendly smile and they’re out exercising and doing jobs all day long. During his break, he’s able to seat in an old bench, with a beautiful view of an open green field.

That’s when he dreams of seeing you there, dancing or simply standing there with a sundress. Like the ones you used to wear on summer when he visited the house your parents had in District 4. He dreams so hard that he swears seeing the skirt of your dress swaying through the trees. And that’s when he knows he’s so fucked up.

But that’s long forgotten after the break is over. And by the night, he’s on the biggest bar of the town. He sees Lucy Gray singing something new. He honestly never understood the meaning behind her songs, but he was enchanted by her do what she loved.

After her live presentation, a big projector was introduced. They started playing the weather with Lucky Flickerman. Which made Coriolanus miss the Capitol so bad.

“They’re probably waiting for some women. That’s why the always start that thing” Lucy Gray said, appearing by his side and pointing at the projector. He smiled at her.

“To see women?” She nodded, grabbing a glass of cold water.

“You know how are men around here” with no tv around, no ostentatious lifestyles, men could get excited with little makeup and satin gowns. Coriolanus was disgusted by many mannerism of the 12. He had heard and seen many disapproving behaviors. But he was happy to be able to find some peace along the songbird.

“Yes, I know. What’s that thing by the way?” When Coriolanus turned around to see the old projector, he almost choked after seeing the big logo appearing.

It was the summer fundraising charity of your mother. Another luxurious gala to help the constructions of the Capitol after war. However, that wasnt the most impressive part for Coriolanus. Seconds after the recovered from seeing something directly related to his past, you appeared in the projector, entering the stage and getting in pose to start a performance.

Lucy Gray Baird was in shock. So if she was surprised, the men all around the bar where cheering and whistling.

There you were, with curled wet hair, metallic bronze makeup, wine lips, golden bracelets on your arms. But it was the attire. A two piece set that let your legs and stomach show off. With bare feet, and two elegant knives, one in each hand. Your cocky smile was back. And it was ruining Coriolanus Snow.

He literally jumped from his seat, leaving Lucy Gray to cross the river of men and properly see you.

She knew you had broken up with him. And that relieved the songbird, as she felt like she could let her feelings for Coriolanus flow freely. But seeing the boy literally hipnotized as soon he saw you, it made her feel uneasy. Deeply she knew that Coriolanus wasn’t over you. And no matter what, you were a sensible subject for him. That not even herself could ever test.

But he kept going. Each step meant hearing them say how good you looked, the places where they’d put their hands on your body. It boiled his blood.

But finally, the dance killed him. Because maybe for the capitol you were still elegant and classy. Their eyes would publicly appreciate your art, and privately let their mind wander with your half naked body. But for people from the 12. It was like throwing a piece of meat to lions in starvation.

With your hips swaying tentatively, pointed feet and letting everyone know how flexible you were. That sassy look on your face that Coriolanus was feeling too personal. It was like you were saying “look what you lost”.

He was used to see you in pastel tutus, hair in a bun. Not this goddess ritual dance type of thing. The music was very different, something very uncommon in Panem. He really wants to punch every man in the room. He sees how most of the women in the bar see your graceful image with disgust. And Coriolanus couldn’t blame them. But it made him remember that he had lost the right to call you his. And that intrusive thought made him automatically think he wanted to go back home so badly.

Your sensual and meticulous steps keep going, the knives making him remember the folk tales of women dancing with sharp objects to show fertility, honor of their kingdom and to seal a man’s faith. Every minute more desperate for Snow, who’s over the edge of hearing men say plenty of things about you. But soon, the music stops with you arched, pointed feet, your curls kissing the stage, the knives perfectly pointing like a clock.

Coriolanus doesnt miss your evil smile. He can sense you are changing. And he remember all the pain he caused you, making him sigh in resignation. His desire of going back for you only growing.

“I’m sorry I left like that” he explains to Lucy Gray. She notices how quick he drank his beer. She was a woman after all, she knew the effect a fine female could have on men. Especially on the man who was their lover. The one that probably hurt her and left her, ending their history in bad terms.

“It’s okay. I told you she was very pretty before” Coriolanus learns that Lucy Gray was not being sarcastic that day at the zoo.

…

It had come to the point where he couldn’t run away from his thoughts. Coriolanus was borderline obsessed with your memory. He constantly wondered how you were doing. He had to ask Tigris every time they talked to see learn anything about you.

For the first time, since he left the Capitol, Tigris shares that she had talked to you.

Coriolanus was surprised to hear that the reason you gave about the breakup was only because he cheated with Lucy Gray.

You didn’t said a word about him the lies, the last argument you two had. You only say that his songbird was special. And that you stopped to be what he needed.

Which was heavily mistaken. Some days before he accepted that you were the only thing he needed to keep going. He imagines a fake scenario where you came to the 12 with him. You find a humble home where you wait till his training is over. The lake where he spent hours with Lucy Gray and The Covey could’ve been hours with you. Talking about anything and everything. He would’ve come straight home to you when the training was over. Make love to you, promise to fight for a higher position, possibly as a commander one day and marrying you. And soon the years would’ve passed, his exile would be over and you would go back to the Capitol with him. Maybe some children along.

But that would never happen. And his delusion was starting to make him find a way to go back where he belonged.

He questioned if his urges where for power, or to get back with the woman he loved.

Whatever the reason was, a lot of people would pay the price. First were the daughter of the mayor and her partner, then the man who had the decency to hide the gun he used to kill those two. Who also happened to be his alleged best friend.

His hands trembling as he pressed to record Sejanus. But he knew there were high possibilities of being heard. And that way, he would go back. He would find you and slowly start again.

The death of Sejanus would haunt him for a long time. He knew he was a close friend of yours, which made him get chills, uneasy to decide what could be your reaction to the news. Either way, it was done. The heavens had to have heard him. He was offered to serve in District 2, gain some money and he could easily take the train to see you if anything.

But Lucy Gray had other plans. And Coriolanus wasnt even sure of what he was doing. Probably in his rambling and panic after everything he went through as a peacekeeper, one side of him wanted to run away and never see back again. To forget about his decisions as a mentor, to forget about his decisions as a peacekeeper and to forget about you. That way he would never have to face all the pain he caused you.

After some hours of walking, Coriolanus should have seen the signs.

“Everyone in the Covey are really good dancers. But I don’t think it’s my thing. I just have my voice…” Lucy Gray said, holding her bag tightly. Coriolanus only smiled, remembering how bad the songbird was when he tried to teach her how to waltz.

“Is it like… exclusive in the Capitol?”

“I think so. Today there’s only one institution, the mother of…” he goes quiet, realizing what he was about to say.

“…y/n?” She asked, almost nervous about mentioning your name. But in reality, she wasnt. After Coriolanus nodded, they just kept walking in silence.

“Her mother founded it?”

“It was her grandmother actually. Mine knew her, and they were kind of friends” he said smiling, trying to look away from Lucy Gray so he couldn’t see him smiling.

Once you leaned Coriolanus was financially struggling some years ago, you ended up visiting him for the first time. That day you learned Grandma’am was friend of your family before your mother was born. And that only made her appreciate you faster. Which made Coriolanus happy. Finally seeing her grandmother to let go the days of the war and any crazy ideas that stayed on her mind. All thanks to you.

“Grandma’am even started planting pink roses for her.” It slipped out automatically, he couldn’t control it.

“She’s like ink…” Coriolanus missed the point. But after some minutes of silence, he understood what Lucy Gray said. Which resulted true. Metaphorically, you were the brightest tint he’d ever seen. He let that ink fall and splash everywhere, leaving stains on him that probably would never leave.

And finally, Lucy Gray Baird fell to her end in the shallow woods. Hunted like a prey. By a broken man who decided to stop being good. Who was losing his mind for the pieces of a woman he let go so easily.

That changes like the destination of Coriolanus.

He’s going back to the Capitol. With tiny sparks of hope. But firmly believing that everyhting was meant to happen like that so he could go back to you.

However, as he came closer, Coriolanus realized he was lost. He had no idea what would await for him. And what version of you would greet him.

…

There isn’t an exact period over the Capitol that can’t be considered as autumn. The summer was practically over, and winter was already happening. Coriolanus had to wait longer than expected to get into University. In the meantime, he accepted the money from the Plinth family. He decided to get ahead of time. He used the last hot days to get Tigris and Grandma’am back to the penthouse. He bought the whole building and in two weeks the whole place was renewed. There was only one thing he couldn’t get rid of. The living room and entrance olive paint you brought. He painted the halls, dining room, studio and kitchen in a dark blue paint. But he wasnt able to get rid of the memories he made with you. His old self was long gone. But he had his supcisions that the version he was for you would never change.

However, he decided to stay afar from the public eye for that month after returning from exile.

Tigris said she hadn’t seen you. But that was okay. He would soon enter to University. He was going to see you there.

Eventually the day came. He gets rid off Casca Highbottom and then he walks towards the big and imposing University of the Capitol. He had a driver now, but he thought it wouldn’t be bad to use the mornings to walk.

In his first hours inside, he has private lessons with Dr. Gaul. Already mentoring him to be a game maker. She kind of suspects he was involved with the sudden death of Highbottom. But for some reason, Gaul has a lot of hopes in him, so she would easily act blind to keep her plans to keep going.

After that, Coriolanus starts looking out for you. He crosses the big seminar rooms and other halls. Until he is able to locate the arts building. It’s smaller but probably the most interesting. With a beautiful barroque facade. As soon as he enters, he sees a group of girls holding large canvas with beautiful paintings on them. Then, some steps later he spots two guys trying to carry a sculpture. Coriolanus believes that kind of modern art was the future of the Capitol. He had to admit the arts building was fully alive, he even forgot he was still at the university.

Coming down from some stairs, he sees two girls. A red haired and a tanned with black leotards and floral skirts are giggling. They seems like dancers, he doesnt think twice. He’s already approaching the girls.

“Excuse me, ladies. Do you know by any chance where I can find y/n y/l/n?” The girls look cheekily at each other, before smiling at him. Which makes Coriolanus wonder what type of rumours had been flowing around about you and him. Since mostly everyone knew the last Snow heir was dating the daughter of the kings of Panem´s television industry.

“She’s rehearsing a class for new students. It’s on the second floor, you’ll hear the music…” he thanks the tanned girl before going upstairs.

She wasn’t lying. He started hearing the classical piano music. He can hear some distant and low cheering. The whole floor is full of dancers. It’s a long hall, to the right, a big studio, with a classical mural, chandeliers and the most giant mirror he’d ever seen.

The people outside the studio see him with curiosity. But he only has eyes for the ballerina dancing all across the studio.

There you are, with a coral tutu, baby pink leotard and thighs. Your pointe shoes seem new. Your cheeks look so pink and your smile is there.

He has to understand that you have become popular enough to have your own fans. Some rumors said that your mother was offering master classes at the University. And he couldn’t help but think how much your family’s name have growth since he left.

He lost count of many turns you did, but you finish cleanly, offering a beautiful view of your tutu wadding. He can’t stop smiling.

People start a round of applauses. He debates whether to get closer or not. He doesnt have any speech prepared. He doesn’t know what to say to you.

“Coriolanus?” When he turns around, he sees Clemensia Dovecote there. Her old study buddy looked older, but not in a bad way. He saw the scales on her skin. But he didnt had to ask, he knew it was because of the rainbow snakes. It just seemed weird to see her short sleeves but turtleneck, rather than her trying to cover all of her face.

“Clemensia” he greets her. Clemmie was probably your female best friend. It wasnt a surprise that suddenly the woman seemed to dislike him.

“Since when you returned?” He looks back at you again. As the music keeps playing, he just smiles. He know the way things would now work. With no how are you questions or anything like the past.

“Some weeks ago.” Clemensia looks like she’s analyzing every movement and word of him.

“Why are you here?” Her hostile tone only makes Coriolanus to act more relaxed than he already is.

“I made the promise to come back for y/n…” the woman stares at him, probably taken aback.

“She doesn’t need this, Coriolanus. She can’t have this” Clemensia had visited you at the hospital. She learned most of his lies towards you. She knew you didn’t deserved to fall again. And especially not because of him.

“I know, Clemmie. I won’t be a burden for her” the music stops, and Coriolanus decides that it’s not time to talk to you yet. So he smiles once again to Clemensia.

“I hope so. Because you already failed her once…” his smile drops. Clemensia dissapears to get inside the studio. Coriolanus stares at you one last time, before he silently walks out.

…

Before you can reach your glass of posca, a porcelain plate with your food slides on the way. A soft piece pile of fried little steaks, with melted cheese and a golden sauce of mushrooms dripping. Your stomach churns and it makes Clemensia laugh.

She had a salmon fine cut with caviar and other exotic stuff. It was a beautiful afternoon to have dinner at one of the most elegant restaurants of the Capitol Downtown.

“Bless your food.”

“Bless your food” you reply back to her.

“So, How it went the rehearsal?” You roll your eyes giggling.

“It was great, until the girls taking the masterclass appeared to see me” your father was right. After working in the production of the 10th Hunger Games, many doors opened for you. Splendid career opportunities here and there. Only that you didn’t enjoy a lot of attention.

“Are they still at the Academy” you nod.

“Rich girls who can make their parents pay the classes of course” Clemensia smiles, drinking a little bit before getting back to eat.

“Coriolanus was looking for you…” you literally stopped eating. You almost drop your fork, but you decided to hold it firmly.

“What?”

“Apparently he’s back.” She reveals. Making you close your eyes in panic.

“How? He was exiled” you say whispering. Clemmie shrugs.

“Gaul. He’s her pupil star. And with Dean Highbottom dead now…” it must’ve been great for Coriolanus to learn the man was gone. Always putting him in the lowest, it was a mark for change.

“Doesn’t matter, I won’t let this get into my way” she smiles.

“What about what your father said?” During a late lunch, you had been talking with your parents, revealing that you broke up with Coriolanus because he cheated. Your mother was shocked, but soon she joined your father to give a twisted advice. He asked if you still loved him. You answered you weren’t sure.

Then I suggest you to proceed to ignore him. Soon you’ll learn his intentions if he ever comes back. Play with him a little. Show him that nobody will laugh in the face of family like ours. Let your hands get dirty, but never show this insecurity you’re talking about.

From that day, you still wake up every morning without knowing how you actually feel about Coriolanus Snow. You know you can’t just simply forget about all the things you did with him. But you firmly pretended that he was in the past.

“I still don’t know how I feel about him.”

“Are you still in contact with his family?” You remember Tigris and Grandma’am.

“Not as much as I used to”

“Mhm. Did they ever learned what happened?” You sigh.

“Just that he opted to choose the songbird before me. And I know Tigris has her own opinion. I just never gave her the opportunity to share it.”

“With him back… probably you’ll find out sooner than later” Clemensia admits, leaving you thinking for the rest of the dinner.

Turns out that you are not ready to find out yet.

…

The first time you see him, it’s at the gardens of the University. You had lunch and wanted to have a brief walk. Through a maze of flowers and plants, you spot him on a bench. He’s very concentrated reading a book. Your eyes widen, seeing how much different he looked. The posture, the clothes, the hair, the cold look.

Something notoriously changed. And you have your suspicions. It wasn’t a coincidence that Sejanus was gone, and Lucy Gray Baird had dissapeared.

You mourned the death of Sejanus one week. You send your condolences to his parents at the funeral. And that night you can’t help but cry on your pillow. Wondering why had life slowly turned dark. In a matter of months you had experienced things you never thought you would. You lost people, you had your first heart broken. You had lost the will to do much things. But, you had to keep going. And you felt guilty, because you thought you had no right to feel like your life was hard, just for being Capitol. The districts struggled more. However, it’s not on your power to mend their lives. Just as it’s not their case to judge your life.

And now, seeing Coriolanus so firm, so calm, it makes you doubt. Sensing that there must’ve been something off about him. Something bad, like all the things he did and hid from you.

You pretend you’re looking for some papers in your bag when you walk past him. He doesn’t see you though, and you thank it.

A couple of days later, you hear for the first time the rumours about him courting Livia Cardew. It makes you feel depressed. You cry out of anger as soon as you get home.

And to your dismay, the first thing you see after turning into a room for the politics class, it’s them. Coriolanus Snow is talking to Livia just beside the door.

That’s the first time you two look at each other again. He sees the anger, discontent and so much resentment. You see the questioning, curiosity and admiration in his eyes.

Nothing else is said because you break the gazes, you walk inside the room with your head high, and your presence is so evident that even Livia has to look at you. Taking too much time to see your beautiful heels.

A week later, you are having a good time with your friends. Festus and Lysistrata are there with you and Clemensia. You are talking all about the upcoming winter gala held at the biggest auditorium in the Capitol. Everyone is excited because it’s the great opportunity to make contacts and eat the most delicious food.

“Is your mother inviting Coriolanus?” Lysistrata asks with curiosity. You roll your eyes at the subject.

“I hope not. I haven’t even spoken with him ever since he came back” everyone knew you had broke up with him. But only Clemensia knew the details.

“Well, apparently he is courting Livia now” Festus mocks, making everyone laugh. Not that any of you had something personal against Livia. But she wasn’t the most brilliant star at the Academy. Now not certainly at University.

“Why Livia?” Clemmie asks laughing.

“Perhaps it’s becase how naïve she is”

“Or because of her father’s inheritance” you add.

“I don’t think so. He’s now the heir of the Plinth fortune” Festus remarks with dessaproval, which makes you feel angered.

“He’s dancing on Sejanus’ grave” your words create some minutes of silence for your late friend. Even when Festus and Lysistrata had made fun of him for being District and the ways of his parents to go up, at the end, they were friends. And now his absence had created a void.

“Ambitious and annoying. Just like his father…” Lysistrata comments sipping on her glass of water.

“How unfortunate. If he had stayed with you, we wouldn’t be talking bad things about him behind his back” you sigh at Clemensia’s words.

“Speaking of the king…” when you look past Lysistrata seated on her chair, you spot Coriolanus. He was wearing a dark grey suit, he looked so fine you had to admit. But soon you look away, the sudden memories of your last days with him haunt you.

After spotting his old friends and ex lover in a table at the cafeteria, he start walking towards there. Trying to make his first moves to go back to normality.

“Yeah. He would’ve been seated beside me right now. But he consciously choose the songbird before me. At least he’s refining himself a little bit with Livia” your friends turn to look at you in shock after the revelation, Clemmie only rises her brows as she sips her water silently, hiding her smile. By the time Coriolanus arrives the table, you’re gone and he curses himself for not walking faster. Festus and Lysistrata are shocked, making him furrow his brows in confusion.

“Did I missed something?” He asks.

“You had an affair with your tribute?” Lysistrata asks back in disgust. Coriolanus sees Clemensia giggling in silence with her head down. Probably enjoying his embarrassment.

His silence meets the requirement for an answer. One that they take as yes.

“And now y/n knows about you and Livia” Coriolanus frowns ever deeper after looking at Clemensia.

“There’s no Livia and I” He responds firmly. Even disgusted to her his name along the least smart girl of his finances class.

“Oh but everyone believes so. That you’re courting her…” he rolls his eyes, annoyed.

“I’m just talking to her because we’re partners for some stupid research paper” the silent sipping on their drinks at the same time is ridiculous to Coriolanus. He just stares at them annoyed.

“Do me a favor and leave her alone, Coriolanus. You were gone to go to your nobody girl from 12, but I stayed and saw her struggling in that hospital bed” Clemensia speaks confidently. Making the blonde to feel threatened.

So he realises that maybe you could have feelings for him still. And that this rumors could have weight on you. He curses himself. Even without realizing, he’s still hurting you.

“I won’t lose the girl twice, Clemmie. Have a good day” he says with a fake smile before leaving the table in shock.

He had to quicken the pace of his proximity with you. He had to make you see he never stopped caring for you.

…

There’s a shattering mess of broken glasses. You quickly move away from the crime scene, looking for your pills, immediately swallowing two.

Your mother’s assistant opens the door, asking for you with concern.

“Is everything okay, miss y/n?” You turn to look a the woman.

“I accidentally threw the jar. Sorry…” Millie is in her mid thirties. She was your mother’s confidant, and slowly yours too. She sees the news paper in the floor, half of it drenched from the broken jar that had water. She can see the title, The Snow heir tights the knot with the Cardew family?

“I’ll call the maids. Don’t worry” she says looking back at you.

“Thanks Millie.” She smiles, closing the door behind.

You breathe loudly, sighing in stress. Of course you had purposely thrown the water jar because of the news paper. A portrait picture of Livia is placed perfectly aligned with one of Coriolanus. Between some paragraph there’s your name too. But you don’t dare to see why.

You may pretend to be okay to the public eye, but you’re still drowning in the same feelings you got after Coriolanus Snow revealed his lies to you.

It’s almost like if he was still mocking you. Showing everyone how easy he had played with you. And how easy he got rid of you.

Someone had to pay. No, not someone, he. He, himself, Coriolanus Snow had to fail. Only that way you would feel slightly better. Only that way your tears would stop being for him.

The first chance you had, you would take it.

…

While you loved pursuing a dancing career along the production stuff. You still had some duties regarding politics and economy. Which is why you ended up at the submissions office so early in the morning. To send a petition.

You end up at at a messy office. A man is there, moving folders and other type of papers. There’s three baskets that can clearly be read as; approved, denied, pending.

However, you quickly look away to smile at the man who’s sitting behind the chair.

“Good morning.” Your smile is contagious to everyone. The man replies with a warm greeting.

“Good morning, miss y//l/n. How can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could hand me a petition form to send” he nods, standing up, leaving the mess of papers behind.

“I can, just let me go and print the form. It won’t take too long…” you smile again, letting him go outside the office.

As you wait, you start seeing the racks of boxes and more boxes filled with yellow and lined papers.

Your curiosity grows, making you look at the baskets on the desk.

You see at first glance some graduation petitions, letters, etc. You are still curious to see why some papers where pending. So you look at the door one last time before diving into the papers. You don’t know the first students mentioned. Until you see the third yellow folder, where you can see a white strip with black letter saying Coriolanus Snow.

You open the folder, seeing what it was all about. A petition to start a political campaign at the age of 19. You frowned. He was good at writing. Even with letters he had some charm. But you know he never beated you to be precise and delicate. You always heard Grandma’am saying he would one day be president. But you never seriously discussed it with him. Now you know it was real. And you can’t help but feel an enormous amount of remorse.

He doesn’t deserve it. He had lost everything once, but the way he was earning everything was through breaking you, and probably others you’ll never knew about. Even when it would make Tigris and Grandma’am happy, you slip the folder into the basket of denied. You don’t feel nothing as you do it.

In fact, you offer the sweet man a smile when he comes back with the form for you. You thank him and then walk out.

…

Coriolanus swears he didn’t intend to bump into your father at the bank. Your father was a frivolous man, but since he knew him, he greeted Coriolanus with respect.

The blonde was taken aback when he invited him to have dinner at your house. And he couldn’t say no.

Your house is the same. At least from the outside, because inside, there’s more color. Coriolanus sees your mother. And she offers him a smile before he leans to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“Coriolanus, look at you. You look very handsome!” His cheeks warm, as your father giggles, handing his coat to a maid.

“I ran into him at the bank. Where’s y/n, dear?” Your mother laughs, rolling her eyes.

“That girl. I haven’t seen her out of her room since midday” the sudden sound of your heels gets noticed.

“I’m here” you say, coming down the stairs, putting some earrings on. Coriolanus notices the grey dress and black heels along the red tights. A diadem on your head and a bright smile that soon dissapears as you spot him in your house.

“Look who I found earlier” you sigh, standing straight.

“I see…” Your parents can see the way you correct your posture, showing how uncomfortable you are.

“We’re having dinner…” you ignore Coriolanus and his deep gaze on you.

“I can’t stay for dinner. I have rehearsals and I promised Clemmie to go to her birthday dinner party” they exchange looks. And Coriolanus is at the verge of smiling at the way you are making up an excuse to leave. Running away from him.

“Are you meeting with Jan before?” Coriolanus head almost pops to look at your father. And you don’t know if you should smile. Jan was your dance partner, he would dance with you at the gala. He was older, very handsome. And you wished he wasn’t off limits from you. Because you easily could admit your attraction towards him.

“Can you at least stay for some drinks?” You shrug at your mother, accepting your purse from a maid. You ignore Coriolanus and his way of looking at you, almost petrified.

His head was spinning, he needed to know who the hell was Jan.

“Unless you want me to do horrible at the Winter Gala, no. I cannot stay, mother” she sighs, tilting her head towards your father. He understands, your father was the one who convinced you to ignore Coriolanus and play with him.

“Well, that’s fine. Just be polite and say goodbye to Coriolanus.” You nod, watching them leave inside the long corridor to enter the dinning table.

You remain quiet, looking down at your purse to avoid his eyes.

“You look lovely” he says, breaking the ice.

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time you two talk since months ago.

“I heard you want to start your political campaign” you opt to pretend you are okay and you can face him with confidence.

“I did. But the idiots of the council rejected my essay. Guess it’ll give me more time to focus on university.” You nod, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside the purse. You want to smile so badly. He would never know you were the reason of his failed first steps in the politic of Panem.

“Anyways… How you’ve been?”

“I’m fine, Coriolanus.” the way you sound tired. Like tired of him makes him uncomfortable. But he tries to keep his best smile too.

“Who is Jan?” He asks almost too seriously. You smile politely at him

“No one of your business, Snow” you calling him by his last name takes him very aback.

“You know, I just hoped that… you know. Maybe we could start off again… like friends of course” you giggle, lowering your head. He frowns confused.

“Miss y/n, Trevor is waiting in the car for you” the butler say appearing from the side door, you thank him and he leaves again.

“I don’t think there’s a way to start again. You already failed me once, Coriolanus.” You admit, putting on the gloves with a bittersweet smile on your face. You turn to pat his cheek, and he swears he’s about to melt. He lounged for your touch since the moment he left you at the hospital. He closes his eyes, hoping to slow down time and felt your cold touch.

But you move away your hand. He opens his eyes and sees you putting the last pair of the gloves on. You walk towards the door.

“You know where the dinning table room is.” And with that, you are gone.

…

Your father gave him the green light to court you again. Coriolanus had to swear that he would never cause you any type of pain, or else, your father would destroy his career before it officially started.

That was more than enough for him. Since that day, slowly, he had been greeting you almost every day, at Univeristy and when you ecountered him and Tigris in a furniture store. You personally invited her to the Winter gala, and Tigris agreed to not share the news about the invitation. But to the young Snow woman, it was a surprise that your father had already invited Coriolanus to the gala.

Soon the day came. As usual the gala opened with the performance of an specific play, than everyone celebrated in the hall with fine dining, and everyone gossiped as auctions happened. It had been a couple of weeks, very busy ones. Probably it was even more important than the arts gala on March. But for this special occasion you had rehearsed a lot to be an elegant black swan.

You smile at your own reflection at the mirror, the black tutu was gorgeous. The crown you had to use was very intriguing. And the black makeup made you feel very confident.

“I came as soon as I could” Clemensia suddenly opens the door of your dressing room. She looks agitated, but she looked amazing on a beige dress and her hair in half ponytail.

“You look very pretty” she thanks you.

“But look at you. You are going to be amazing.” She sits and both start gossiping.

“Your father invited Coriolanus.” It makes you roll your eyes tired. But you are having a heartache.

“I’m… not sure if I don’t feel anything about him” Clemmie leaves her glass of champagne.

“The newspaper rumour affected you. Right?” Slowly, you nod. Too embarrassed to look at her in the eye. But Coriolanus had been really good. He smiled at you at any chance he could. Some days he would join you and your friends and he was fun, you had to bite your tongue to avoid giggling. And Clemensia had seen it too.

“I can’t blame you. I was there since the beginning…” your friend had seen the courting, the first awkward hand holding, how you two formed a strong connection. And Coriolanus left you at the hospital.

“You two had a beautiful bond. And he broke it. But that doesn’t mean you can’t miss him” Clemmie goes to hug you.

“Pa’ said to keep playing with him, to ignore him. But I’m tired, I just want to heal” she nods, letting you hide your face on her shoulder.

“You want my advice?” You nod.

“Do not force anything. Be polite to him, but avoid giving him any chance yet. As you heal, you’ll find the answer; if you should let him have another chance or not”

A man knocks. When Clemensia opens the door, he receives a bouquet of white roses.

You could recognize those roses anywhere. You get closer, taking the attached note.

Grandma’am and Tigris didn’t know what flowers to cut.

Good luck.

You try to hide your smile. But it’s impossible.

…

The whole place is full. Coriolanus takes a seat with Tigris besides.

“I talked with her yesterday. She said she was very nervous about this one” Tigris says. Coriolanus knows she’s talking about you.

“She’s always perfect, she shouldn’t feel nervous.” His mind was only thinking about Jan. He did his research. And learned he was a former dancer of your mother’s institution. It made him mad.

“Have you thought about inviting her to have dinner?” Coriolanus shakes his head.

“Not yet, I haven’t talked enough to her”

“Well, hurry up. Grandma’am wanted to see you married by the age of 20” she says laughing. But it doesn’t make Coriolanus smile.

“Oh look, it’s starting” Tigris squealed with excitement. The curtains lifted and the show started.

For the first twenty minutes, he’s so bored. Nothing exciting happens. He thinks the white swan is boring. And for the first time, he meets Jan. It makes him feel jealous.

It only worsened when you appeared on stage. Your black attire makes him go mad. He had never seen you in anything like that. He gets very invested in your scenes. He feels the emotion you are trying to project. Sassy, cheeky and attractive. You succeed to him.

Unfortunely, Jan had to appear too. And Coriolanus has to sigh, dealing with the scene of the man holding you to make you gracefully spin. The music doesn’t help, it holds the sense of you and Jan dancing together. Coriolanus knows dancing has a lot to do with acting. But he doesn’t enjoy the looks of lust and desire between you and your partner. The worst part? He had to seat and watch it for at least fifteen minutes.

His head malfunctions. But he already is telling Tigris he needs to the restroom.

It’s a lie. He goes to the dressing rooms. And his luck was so big that he found the one with the name of Jan. He slowly made his way inside. The place was so old that he didn’t need to check for security or anything, but he wanted to make sure nobody would see him in real time.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish, but surely he wanted to get rid of the man who apparently had your attention now. Your mother had said you and Jan worked very well. And now, with him seeing the performance, he was more than sure he couldn’t let it move forward.

His hand went to his pocket, and his eyes widened. He felt the little glass tubes of narcotics. The same he used to kill Casca Highbottom.

He thought about it just for a little. Was it worth it? Getting rid of a man just to have easier access to you.

Maybe.

Then he questioned how bad he wanted you back. Coriolanus had missed you since day one. He knew he would never love anyone else. He knew no one would treat him as you once did.

So he poured the liquid from one of the tubes inside the water flask resting on the vanity. And before leaving, Coriolanus slipped two more tubes inside the bag that contained Jan’s clothes.

“You took very long at the restroom” Tigris tells her cousin when he came back.

“There was a long line”

…

This time, is different. You smile and you can hear the big round of applauses as you make reverence to go off from stage. You were the last one and the curtains came down finally.

Once you are free, you have all the time in the world to breathe. Other dancers and production staff members congratulate you. But it’s Coriolanus Snow the one who makes you frown confused. He was backstage, looking at you with a soft smile. His classic black suit makes you go back and remember about the Reaping ceremony. How happy that day initiated, and how bad it turned out.

“Coriolanus.” You greet him, he can see a tiny smile on your face.

“You were amazing. As usual, of course”

“Thank you. And for the flowers, they were gorgeous. As usual, of course” he’s so surprised that you were talking to him with some humor sense. Both of you laugh and it feels… warm, and natural.

“It’s nothing. But.. perhaps we could just sit together at dinner?” Your cheeks warmth. You think about your confusing feelings, what your father and Clemensia respectively said. Sitting with him once wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Yeah, we could.” He smiles, and even when his hair changed, his deeper voice. For some seconds you can see the boy you once loved.

And he almost feels like he was seventeen again. Watching you dance backstage, ready to greet you with a kiss. He sees the girl who helped him so much. And he just know all the horrible things he’d done were worth it.

“I-…” but his words stay lingering in the air. Both of you hear a female scream. Coriolanus and you exchange looks before starting to walk where the sound was heard. In the corridor of the dressing rooms you see a woman lingering to an open door. Immediately you recognize it’s Jan’s room. You quickly make it there, through the pain of your caged foot inside the pointe shoe. Coriolanus goes behind you, already sensing the scene inside.

He hears you gasp in shock, covering your mouth and tears forming on your eyes.

You are in shock, you sob, unable to blink.

Jan is on the floor, pale and blood on his mouth. He’s dead.

And as much as the scene shocks you, you are trained to entertain the Capitol, so you turn to them random woman.

“Go and find Millie. Tell her about this and do keep your mouth shut. Nobody can know beside my parents. Understood?” You indicate the woman with a broken voice. She nods in horror dissapearing through the corridor. When she leaves you can finally cry.

When you don’t know what else to do, you are holding onto Coriolanus Snow. You find comfort on his chest. And he immediately holds you back.

As much as you hate to admit it, you feel you are home in his arms.

With one hand, he closes the door of the dressing room and returns to completely be there to hug you. He smiles, knowing he’s already slowly winning.

Because when your parents find out what happened, they make you put a cute black and green velvet gown with crystals. They make you pretend nothing happened and you sit with Coriolanus and Tigris. Ignoring the upcoming rumors, and certainly not respecting the sudden death of Jan.

…

Two days later, Coriolanus finds you seating on a bench. You are eating a sandwich, looking lost. He takes a seat beside you.

“I’m sorry about Jan. It happened so suddenly” he doesn’t feel sorry. Opposite of what he felt about Sejanus and Lucy Gray. However, he firmly believes it was the only way.

“He was a wonderful man. A devoted dancer, with principales. He had a wife in District 3.” Coriolanus coughs. He wasn’t expecting that. That little detail wasn’t on his research. Something twisted inside him, but he still didn’t regret or felt sorry.

“He didn’t seem the type to use narcotics…he must’ve been very stressed out” you add. Oblivious that you are talking with Jan’s murderer.

“Are you sure you are okay?” You roll your eyes sighing.

“No. I’m not okay, Coriolanus. Not since that cursed Reaping ceremony day”

“I’m just trying to be here for you” he admits, and it’s your breaking point.

“WHY DO YOU CARE NOW? YOU FAILED ME WHEN I MOST NEEDED YOU!” He looks around to see if anyone was around. But the place is empty.

“I know I committed many errors but-“

“BUT NOTHING, CORIOLANUS.” You spit out with such anger, that makes him frown.

“You violated the trust, loyalty, respect and love we had for each other. You dissapear after making me have a damn breakdown. Only to go after that girl. And now you appear trying to mend things?” You won’t tell him about his denied petition and what you did. You just want to share all you couldn’t before at his face.

“Do you know how many doctor appointments I’ve had since you left?” He looks down.

“Twelve. And I have to swallow four different pills every day. Only to stay sane. And who’s fault it is? The hunger games, the galas, dancing, Lucy Gray Baird. But specially, you” when he looks up at you again, you are crying.

“If you really want to be here for me, you need to stay away and leave me alone.” You finall state, looking at his blue eyes one last time, before standing from the bench and walking away.

That wasn’t your day. Neither the following ones. Your pointe shoes died and your size was out of stock. The food took such a long time. Your parents left to have an audience in District 1 and your evening was to listen to music and cry.

But certainly what broke you once again was a phone call.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Y/n?”

“Tigris?” You ask. Her voice sounding worried.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Is everything okay? You sound alarmed, dear” you are able to hear her sighing.

“It’s Grandma’am. She’s sick. Coriolanus is busy at the Univeristy and the doctor I requested hasn’t appeared” your heart beats faster.

“She has a strong fever and it’s been like that for hours.” She adds, finally sounding more worried.

“Tigris, calm down. I’ll call my cousin, he’s one of the most prepared doctors around. I’m going there with you in the meantime” you reassure her, already taking off your nightgown and taking out a dress and coat from your closet.

“Thank you, y/n. I truly appreciate this, thank you.” You hang up after saying everything was going to be okay.

…

You see how changed is the penthouse. Fully renovated, with bright lights that contrasted the dark blue wallpapers. But you find interesting how the olive paint you brought is still there. And your portrait from the day of your eighteen birthday is still with the family pictures.

You wait outside the room of the elder woman, as your cousin is checking Grandma’am. You have to hold the urge from biting your nails. A maid offers you posca, but you can’t think about drinking at the time.

The front doors opens and seconds later, Coriolanus is there. He seems surprised to see you there. Since the day of your argument, he hadn’t see you. He tried calling you but your butler said you were out for the weekend to your grandparents house.

“Y/n?” He asks, dropping his coat on a chair.

“Tigris called me. She wanted a doctor for your grandmother” he worried a bit.

“Is she not feeling better. When I left she seemed better…” he says hurrying to go to her room, but you stop him, grabbing by his forearm.

“Don’t. My cousin is already there with her. I’m waiting for the results” Coriolanus only stares at you. He wants to smile. You came only to help his family once again.

“You look very lovely” you smirk, looking at his window with your arms crossed.

“Really? Your grandmother is sick and you are here saying how lovely I look today?” He smiles.

“You told me to wait. What else can I do?”

“How cynical of you” you respond coldly. After all you told him, he was acting like it never happened.

The door of the room opened and Tigris came out with your cousin.

He revealed Grandma’am was having a little difficulties in her lungs, which made her prone to catch a flu. He gave her some strong medicines and promised it would be fine with some days of resting.

After some minutes, you are also ready to leave.

You say good night to the Snow cousins and leave.

“Y/n. Wait…” Tigris comes out. Stopping you some feet away of the now working elevator.

“I-… Thank you.” She slowly says hugging you.

“It’s nothing, Tigris. I told Coriolanus once I would always help the people I love” Tigris suddenly feels so sad to hear you say that. She really hoped you and her little cousin had a different ending.

“He still loves you so much.” You fight harder against the tears when she says that.

“I know. And I still love him too. But… he never apologized. And I’m not ready to let go my resentment towards him.” You admit looking away.

“Although things did’t work out for you and Coriolanus, I really appreciate and care for you, y/n” se almost whispers in your ear. And your eyes water.

“I feel the same, Tigris. I really do” you reply slowly, controlling your voice to not sound cracked.

“I’ll come back in some days” she nods.

She lets you go and you finally head out. Not noticing that Coriolanus heard everything.

He never apologized.

That night, you are reading on the living room when your butler walks in.

“Coriolanus Snow is asking for you in the telephone” you thank him, walking bare feet towards the kitchen telephone.

“Yes, Mr. Snow?” You ask.

“I just wanted to thank you for coming today. You didn’t have to and yet you appeared here” you sigh.

“Whatever that happened between us has nothing to do with my relationship with Tigris and your mother” now he sighs, from his office, in complete darkness.

“About that y/n…” your hands go numb, and panic floods you.

“You don’t know how much I’m-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, cracked voice and you hang up.

“Sorry” he says through the dead line.

That night, you read his letters. The ones he sent when he was a peacekeeper at the 12. Where he seemed to have projected his more vulnerable and emotional side of his heart. Maybe he had been drunk, maybe Lucy Gray wrote them for him. You’d never know, and you preferred to ignore the idea of him actually feeling sorry.

…

A week later you’re applauding for Grandma’am as she sings for you. You smile, changing her pillow case and complementing how much of a sweet voice she had.

It’s getting late, and you must return to your house.

After wishing Grandma’am sweet dreams, you carefully close her door and you walk with the old pillow case away.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Tigris asks with a sweet smile, taking the pillow case from you. Coriolanus is seated, drinking something as he carefully looks at you. You ignore him.

“I must decline, dear. I have to go back and pack some things” she frowns, stopping to put some plates on the dinning table.

“Pack?”

“Yes. I think I’ll spend the holidays at District 1. My mother is opening a new studio and she’s going to need help. And well, if everything goes right, I might even stay there” Tigris almost drops the pillow case. And Coriolanus almost chokes on his drink.

“What? Why?. What about university? The galas? Your production job for the hunger games” you shrug with an honest smile.

“Lately the Capitol life has... it has been a burden. I want to live a peaceful life. I want to heal” Tigris sends daggers with her eyes to Coriolanus. He coughs, uncomfortable.

“CORIOLANUS!” Grandma’am calls the man, you only sigh. And slowly, he stands up to to the woman. He hears you keep talking with Tigris. And he wants to do something to stop you from leaving. Now he can give you the life he couldn’t before.

“Is everything alright, Grandma’am?” The elder woman looks at him from her bed.

“Are you really letting that young woman to walk away again?” Coriolanus frowns.

“What?”

“You’ve heard me.” Even in her sick days, she was firm.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Grandma’am shrugs.

“I don’t think so. Her eyes shine sadly at every mention of you. She was part of the family after all.” Coriolanus remains quiet. But he admits to himself that’s what he missed the most.

“I think she always waited for an apology. One that never came.” His heart pounds very fast. He tried, and you hung up.

“What do you suggest me to do?” Grandma’am smiles, coughing tiredly.

“You run to wherever she goes and beg on your knees. One time you show her vulnerability and you’ll never do it again. We, women, only want real love, stupid love. You show her that stupid love once and you can silently do it for the rest of your again”

“You already won the money and respect. You’re just missing out the girl” Coriolanus sweats, but when he turns to look at her grandmother again, she nods, reassuring him.

“Go. Get her back, Coriolanus” without saying anything back, he leaves.

When he enters the dinning room, he only sees two plates of food. He looks at Tigris confused.

“Where’s y/n?” She shrugs, taking a seat.

“She just left.”

Coriolanus runs. He actually runs out of his penthouse and when the elevator starts taking to much time, he decided to choose the stairs as his getaway. He feels sweaty and agitated, but as he goes down, he can’t help but feel slightly happy, the adrenaline of making it on time make him hurry.

“Y/N!” He yells your name once he makes it to the lobby, where he can see you turning back to see him.

You are waiting for Trevor when he appears running towards you.

And before you can even blink or breathe, he gets on his knees.

“Coriolanus Snow. What are you doing?” You ask confused and blushed.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m sorry about all the stupid things I did. I’m sorry about letting you down. I’m sorry for ruining our relationship. For letting you in that hospital bed and return to do everyhting but apologize to you” you look at him perplexed, not believing his words.

“I can’t lose you again. Because I know you’re the last and only person I’ll love. I won’t trust anyone else. And nobody would have ever looked down at me like you did when I had nothing” you sigh, feeling the tears coming again. You know he’s not lying. You knew him so well that you sense it.

“If you let me. To give me another chance, I’ll do things right. I will never fail you again in life. You’ll be the only person I’ll cherish and show love.” He offers you his hand, and he looks very suppliant.

You blink quickly to soothe the tears. And you know he doesnt deserve you. But aren’t the best person, so maybe you two were actually meant to be together.and that’s the only viable reason to why you want to let your heart freely beat for him again.

“Please don’t go, y/n” he whispers, waiting for your answer. You sigh, slowly and shaking, but you end up taking his hand.

“You’ll better be the most perfect lover of the history of Panem, then” he wraps your fingers together, and stands up.

“I promise, I swear” he knows the memory of Lucy Gray would always follow him. As well of all the deaths he had caused. But nothing compared to the joy of him kissing you again.

Your lips welcome him in the most sweet way. And he finds himself smiling through the kiss, gently holding you closer to him.

It’s in the start of the Road of Hope in the Capitol where Coriolanus Snow had his fully owned penthouse. Where he had nothing, and now had won everything.

…

Time flies, things had changed, probably for the better. You made Coriolanus keep fighting for a good and healthy relationship. Slowly, he made you completely fall in love again. And although there was certain spark missing, you knew it would never come back. However, you had also accepted that both of you had grown up.

The late talks were mature now. Talking about the future of Panem, planning dinners together. The kisses were more passionate, unlike the softness that was all over your early relationship. The sex was harder rather than slow and sweet like the beginning. Coriolanus would like to leave many hickeys scattered across your body, make a wet mess of saliva and fluids. He loved feelings your almond nails leave gentle scratches across his pale back.

But certainly, the biggest change was the way you two were handling a life together.

After turning twenty, you got married. Soon Coriolanus bought the house he always wished to give you. The one with black and white tiles floor, beige walls and big stairs.

By the first week in, he had done many refurbishments and he had fucked you in every room, every corner and every surface of the house.

Till the day you turned twenty-two. By that time, you had almost ditched your dancing career. Sometimes you still had some chances to perform on galas. But Coriolanus convinced you to focus on public services and the production of the hunger games. Dr. Gaul had officially retired, and it was going to be the first year of Coriolanus as a game maker. Things had really changed.

But everything seemed fine.

“Dear, Are you ready?” You turn to look at your husband, who waits on the frame of the door.

“Just one moment” you run to slip into your silver heels before grabbing your purse.

Trevor kept his job as your chauffeur and Millie was now your private secretary. Sometimes you hated how formal your life had become. Especially now that Coriolanus had some plans in mind.

As soon as you arrive to the fancy patio from a million-dollar man house, many women eye you and Coriolanus.

“Remind me what are we doing here?” You ask him. He holds your hand tightly, smiling at many of the invited people.

“I’m assuming the role of game maker. You are giving a speech about the improvements for the 14th Hunger Games, my dear” you nod, clutching onto his cold hand harder. Both of you were kind of the sensation around the Capitol. You know how they whisper about your dress and your husband’s physic.

“You’re going to be fine. You always choose the right words. And your voice can charm anyone here” he whispers on your ear, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Thank goddess I’ve been studying the constitution. Or else these men would bury me” Coriolanus laughs. Soon you enter the actual event. With long white tables, candles and everyone dressed either on red or black.

“Men around here don’t know how smart my wife is” he says shrugging, remembering how many honors you received from university. Some of the wives ask you to join them. You wave hello to them before leaning to your man.

“Do not make me jealous or leave me alone during the speech.” You firmly say to him.

“Of course not, my love”

“Love you.” And with one last kiss, you walk away.

For the rest of the night. You feel uneasy. Because you succeeded with the speech. But once you read the part from Coriolanus, you are at the verge of babbling.

He shared some of his initial proposals for the games. Like lowering the age of the tributes, increasing the obstacles in the arena, using more mutts, allowing weapons, and making the interviews with Lucky Flickerman longer.

It had been a long time since you think about the games so much. But that guilt you felt after seeing Coriolanus as mentor, never left. And after that dinner, everyone claps for your husband and you, after being considered as the couple of the next generation for Panem.

In the privacy of your new home, you constantly zone out to think about it. You can’t ask Coriolanus to stop the games, but he could make some changes.

You knock swiftly on his door.

“Come in.” You walk in and he drops the papers he was signing to smile at the sight of you.

“Hello, you.” he says cheekily.

“Hello, you’.” You reply. He indicates you to seat on his lap and you do so. His arms lock around you, hands resting on your back.

“Are you coming to bed anytime soon?” You ask.

“I just need to sign some things, darling” he watches you frown, and he won’t say you look older, because you don’t. But you certainly look wiser, mature and more like a woman rather than a girl.

“I’ve been thinking about the games” He’s all ears now. He knows you had some specific opinions. You had said in your first interview how brutal the games were.

“What about them?”

“I would never ask you to stop the games. But…” you stop, suddenly feeling a little nervous.

“But what, my dear?”

“Don’t you think those tributes are humans? Yes, the Districts deserve to be reminded of the consequences of their acts. But most of the tributes are kids. Who don’t even understand everything that conveys a war.” Coriolanus sighs, trying to choose the correct words to answer you.

“What are you suggesting?” He tries to sound calm, but the mere subject makes him a little irritated.

“I don’t know… Maybe giving them more opportunities?” He giggles, caressing the skin on your hips.

“Giving them opportunities means going soft on them. And going soft on them could trigger a new rebellion” this time you sigh, trying to persuade him by brushing his hair, softly grasping his chin.

“Not like that, Coryo. I mean… raising the majority age of the tributes. Giving them at least the chance to train. To eat a proper meal on the last night. To show who they are one last time before they’re sent to die” Coriolanus would always believe that you’re only one weakness was your humanity. How you always turned to see down on others, feeling guilty from being born with all the commodities.

So, he tries to ignore it. He tries to see your suggestions as a way to punish the tributes harder. Give them everything to then killing them.

So, he smiles, urging you to kiss him. You reply immediately, holding him closer to feel the heated proximity.

“I could arrange some changes. Would that make you feel better?” You nod on his lips, smiling.

“Now let me finish this before meeting you in bed. And I expect you have this thing off before I get there” he says grabbing your nightgown. You laugh with a potent blush, gently pushing him away.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not being silly. In two days, we start the tour, we will be very tired to make love daily as we do now” you roll your eyes, almost running away ad your husband laughs, making fun of your embarrassment.

“This is madness. I’m going to bed” you say getting out of his office.

“Don’t forget about what I said!” He yells, making you smile in love as you leave upstairs, wishing good night to the maids and butler. For the record, you do not forget about your husband’s petition.

…

The best part of the house is the rooftop in your opinion. A terrace with cristal walls and ceilings that had a gorgeous view of the Capitol. A view that included some monuments and the snowy mountains surrounding the city.

You had a little bar there, an eccentric dining table and some couches with colorful cushions.

Grandma’am made you take some of his roses so you could start your own garden. That brought tears to your eyes. But now, it was only you and Tigris there.

You asked the chef to make some vegetables and creams as your sister-in-law arrived for dinner. Coriolanus and you were set to leave the next morning for his political campaign tour.

“Have you packed everything?” Tigris asks.

“Yes. I wish I could take Trevor with me. But only Millie will be able to come” you say smiling. Tigris notices how you constantly look at the door, hoping to see Coriolanus entering.

“Have you told him?” You shake your head at the woman.

“Not yet. Probably by the time we arrive District 4. We have good memories from there” Tigris smiles. She was really excited when you got back together with Coriolanus. She even made your wedding dress. And now she was so proud of the career you two were making.

“Sorry for the delay. I was arguing with some incompetent who cancelled the delivery of our new chandeliers” Tigris rolls her eyes as your husband cheekily smiles.

“Dinner isn’t ready yet, anyways” you say patting his back as he takes a seat beside you.

“You shouldn’t be stressing over the tour. Your dear wife must’ve prepared the most wonderful speeches for you to say” Coriolanus smiles, turning to give you a peck on the nose, making you laugh.

“It’s not that, Tigris. It’s the time that’s freaking me out. I don’t want to be gone for almost two months.” You sigh, trying to keep everything together. You just pray that the tour goes smoothly.

“Each district will host you with all commodities” it’s a lie. Coriolanus isn’t ready to go to District 12 again. Where his father died, where he committed the worst decisions of his early life. He knows those days will be a little sour. But he’s willing to play pretend very well for you.

“It’s going to be fine. Pardon me, dear” Coriolanus says after seeing your face of over thinking. His wife is so smart that she’s probably wondering the same as him. And that’s the least he needs of.

You take his hand, before hearing the food has arrived. The air changes, the dinner flows happily as you talk and gossip with Tigris and your husband. It’s a great dinner actually.

Maybe he broke your heart when you were teenagers. But you delayed his political campaign for four years. Maybe he had looked too much at Lucy Gray Baird, but at the end it would only be you.

You could’ve done better to get rid of that guilt for participating in the hunger games, but you just realize that maybe you didn’t because you are not a good person either.

Even so, every morning, you wake up in his arms as he fulfilled his promise of never failing you again.

You just hope that the tour, the upcoming games and everything else doesn’t get into your way. Nothing can be a recoil. Not when Coriolanus Snow’s first child rests peacefully in your womb.

The future was uncertain. But your past and present along him always seemed like… a hatred road.

_____________________________________________

fyi, in my head, if reader hadn’t delayed Coriolanus political emergence, the second rebellion would’ve started earlier and probably it wouldn’t have been successful. (Basically it would’ve been like a second time “dark days” situation and then back to reconstruction again)

Taglist: @dear-bunnyboo @daydreamerprocrastinator @lecrercsgirlshhs @athanasia-day @devils-blackrose @reader-bookling123 @cookielovesbook-akie @justacaliforniandreamer @m1ndbrand @blairfox04 @darktrashsoulbear @fartybobabutt @diannana @iwantosleep @sarysuniverse @unclecrunkle @f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @didneyworld13 @imguce @angelscrime @impeterporker @lem122 @cryaka @ietss @michelleisheres-blog @capsiclesworldsblog @circe143

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #corio snow #coriolanus snow #tbosas

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satorusdiary · 1 year ago

Note

reader biting bakugo’s muscles? 🥹

I LIKE THIS, esp cs he got some big muscles.

Boyfriend! Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Imagine this. Normally on a Thursday night you would be waiting on the couch for your boyfriend Katsuki to come home after his patrol.

As of right now, things were different. At 11:34 pm on a Thursday night, you’re laying on your boyfriend’s muscular chest whilst watching a random spider man movie. Your cheek was smushed against his chest. His arms were around your head, and around your waist, you were sure your eyes were drooping.

The yawn you let out caught the older man’s attention, looking away from the large tv to look down at you. A small grin appeared on his face, which turned into bored expression aswell as a tsk coming out of his lips.

“you wanted to watch this stupid movie, now your sleeping on it? C’mon baby, you can do better than that.” He coo’s, kissing your temple.

You scoffed in response, rubbing your eyes. Yet the heat building up in your chest continued to rise, as well as the beats in your heart.

“shut up, ‘m jus more tired than usual, kats.” The sentence that was let out was more of a mumble than an actual straight up response. That’s how your boyfriend knew you were tired.

Your boyfriend snorted in response. “You better stay the fuck awake.. ‘already so long into the movie.” He paused, taking in the scene in-front of him.

“oh.. the girlfriend is falling.” A gruesome expression appears on his face as he watches her fall.

Usually you’d be awake for this type of stuff, but your eyes were struggling to stay open.

With the little amount of strength you had left in you, your e/c orbs darted to Katsukis meaty arms. You hadn’t noticed how toned it was, considering that he was only in a wife beater.

Though you could barely move, the only movement you made was moving your head from off his chest, to his arm. Taking a chomp out of the area that you felt was the most appropriate.

Chomp!

Katsuki didn’t flinch, instead he paused the movie and looked down at you who was biting the fuck out of his bicep.

“You little shit— did you just fuckin bite me??” Katsuki grumbles, lightly shaking you off so you would stop biting him.

A bite mark was left on his bicep, it didn’t hurt. Obviously it didn’t hurt, or caused any problems to your boyfriend. But he was concerned on how why you did it.

You grinned in response, rubbing on the bite mark before kissing it.

“Sorry suki, y’ur arms are just s’ unresistible.” You moaned in sastisfsction, head snuggling deeper into his chest.

He rolled his eyes, propping two fingers on your chin to force you to look at him.

“You’re stupid, dunno how I ended up with you.” Katsuki grumbled, placing a few kisses on your eager, pretty lips.

“You love me” you smiled, kissing his red cheek.

“you know i do, sweets.”

As he thought everything was over, you placed one last kiss to his cheek. Before biting the soft, chubby part.

Katsukis eyes widened, eyebrows scrunching in annoyance.

“You’re going to be the fuckin death of me, ‘little brat..” He uttered, repeatedly whilst you giggle the night away.

Even if he was grumpy, his arms always found a way to hug you tighter. The whole night was spend giggling, having fun, biting, all of the above. The movie was long forgotten.

Even if you kept biting him, all he wanted was a soothing kiss on the bite. That’s because he loves you.

Even if you’re a pain in the ass.

#bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo fic #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki x you #mha fanfiction #my hero acedamia #bakugou fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki

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sunny44 · 5 months ago

Text

Happy anniversary

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x wife!reader

Warnings: just pure fluff and English is not my first language.

Summary: Today marks one year since you said ‘Yes’ to the love of your life. The best way to celebrate is by remembering that day as if it were yesterday.

I had planned everything carefully. Our first wedding anniversary had to be special. Charles had always been the man of grand gestures, of emotional surprises, and this time I wanted to do something different. Something that showed how much he meant to me.

I woke up early and went straight to the closet where I kept my wedding dress. That white dress I wore on the happiest day of my life. The memory of that day was still fresh in my mind—the way Charles looked at me when I walked into the church, with tears in his eyes and a smile that lit up the entire place.

I put on the dress carefully, adjusting every detail to make it perfect. I looked in the mirror and, for a moment, I was transported back in time. There I was again, the anxious and passionate bride, ready to say "yes" to the love of my life.

I walked down the stairs slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. Charles was in the living room, facing away from me, engrossed in some work on the computer. I took a deep breath and called his name, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Charles?"

He turned around and, for a moment, was frozen. His eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly, unable to form any words. I saw tears start to form in the corners of his eyes and then roll down his cheeks.

"Y/n... you... you look beautiful," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

I walked over to him, feeling my own eyes fill with tears. "I wanted to relive that moment, Charles. I wanted you to know how much this year has meant to me. Every day, every moment with you has been a gift."

He stood up and came to me, holding my face in his hands. "You have no idea how happy you make me, Y/n. This year has been the best of my life, and it's all because of you."

We hugged there, in the middle of the living room, feeling the connection that had always united us grow even stronger. Charles pulled back a little, just enough to look at me again, admiring every detail of the dress.

"I remember every second of that day," he said, smiling. "The way you walked into the church, the light reflecting off your dress, the way you smiled at me... it was the most beautiful moment of my life."

"For me too," I replied, holding his hands. "And I wanted you to know that every day, I choose you. I choose to love you, to care for you, to support you. You are everything to me, Charles."

He pulled me into another hug, tighter this time. We stayed like that, in silence, letting our hearts speak for us. After a while, he pulled back again and looked at me, with that smile I loved so much.

"Do you want to dance with me, Y/n?" he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

"Of course," I replied, smiling.

He put on a soft song and pulled me into a slow dance. We twirled around the living room, lost in each other, feeling every heartbeat. At that moment, I realized that it didn't matter where we were or what we were doing. What mattered was that we were together, and that was all we needed.

As we danced, I whispered to him: "I love you, Charles. Always and forever."

He looked into my eyes and replied: "I love you too, Y/n. More than anything in this world."

And so, we danced until the sun set, celebrating not just a year of marriage, but the promise of many happy years to come.

Bonus scene!

Y/nleclerc instagram post

Liked by @charlesleclerc, @pescaleleclerc, @lewishamilton and others 200270

@Y/nleclerc There are not enough words to describe my love for you. When I said “yes” one year ago, I knew it would be the best decision of my life, and I was right. I can't wait to start a family with you and grow old together. I am very excited for the coming years of celebrating our wedding anniversary. I love you today and will love you until my last breath.

Happy 1 year anniversary my love ❤️.

@charlesleclerc Thank you for everything mon amour, your the best thing in my life and I knew you were the one for me since the day I met you. I love you with all my heart and I also can wait to celebrate this day every year with you.

Ps: Let’s talk more about this family thing, I really want a baby

Liked by y/nleclerc

@lewishamilton happy anniversary guys, so nice to see the love you have for each other.

@pescaleleclerc this makes me so happy, please give me a few grandchildren

@charlesleclerc thank you maman and I’m gonna try to give you the grandkids

@user9183 wow it’s been a whole year, feels like a lifetime

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fueledbysano · 2 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒~!

how they deal with an ovulating and very horny wife.

♱ c/w: MATURED. MDNI. afab!reader, mentions of periods and pregnancy, breeding, creampies, fingering, praising, baby trapping, overstimulation, fluff/smut.

♱ ft. kazutora, mikey, hanma, sanzu, ran.

♱ a/n: the most evil horny of them all. also, happy 4k! thank you so much for all the love in my fics. also, I may have a different writing style with hanma because it was intended for a different fic with a more romantic tone. but I decided it worked just fine for this one too.

♡ tags; @manilamikeyswifey @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork

reblogs appreciated!

♡ Kazutora

As soon as he woke up, Kazutora already felt how slightly warmer you felt in his arms, almost as if you had a fever. That morning, you were in a particularly good mood as well, especially with your husband clinging to you. He gave you a moment to absorb his gaze before softly grinning. Good morning, baby girl…”

Before you could say anything, Kazutora's lips touched yours as his fingertips lifted your chin up. He waited motionlessly for your approval, which you offered by gently pressing your lips against his. You were unable to resist as your kiss got more intense. You felt a surge of lust that fueled the kiss and drew his body close to yours. After what seemed like a flash, you separated from one another.

“Want to stay~?” You asked him, never letting your gaze leave his so he could make no mistake as to what it is that you wanted. Knowing what was going on, Kazutora cleared his throat. Before you went to sleep last night, he observed you check your period tracker app. He remembered that you had noted that today had a blue mark on the calendar, signifying that you are ovulating and most fertile.

You mumbled quietly into his palm, locking eyes with him as you gently rubbed your nose against his. "Honey, please," you begged. You were certain that the lust was becoming stronger as he continued to stay silent, merely his gentle breath touching your neck.

Kazutora's long hair tickled your cleavage while he bit little patches of your skin in the crook of your neck; your heavy breaths and noises getting him bricked up in an instant. He lifted the band shirt you borrowed from him before trailing his hands down your chest, and lingering them above your thin panties.

“I love how pretty your pussy looks…” His mouth almost watered at the wet print on your panties before he pulled them off in one swift movement. “It’s like a flower~” He praised before keeping hot eye contact with you the whole time he lifted your leg up his shoulder lustfully. Soon enough, he attacked the inside of your thighs with hungry kisses. As if you couldn't have been doing it enough, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched in pleasure.

Your hands reached to clench his streaks as you felt Kazutora's lips lap at your sensitive core, and you could feel his lips smiling at your breathy moans of his name. He would shift between quick tongue flicks, languid licks, and sporadic light clitsucking.Kazutora easily inserted a finger into your wetness and curled up with it. Your head dipped back when he slipped a second finger and made the same movement.

Soon enough, Kazutora's cock was straining so hard in his boxers that it itches for a relief inside of your walls. So he reached for the side drawer for the box of condoms you always kept there. However, before he could grasp the wooden knob, you quickly reacted and grabbed hold of his wrist. “It’s okay…” You assured with a soft smile. Kazutora questioned as if you weren't fine with it; he'd rather end the situation before something serious occurs. “Yes, my love.” You exhaled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Kazutora felt his stomach turn at this confession. All the thoughts he had about getting you pregnant and starting a family with you was at its breaking point, especially now that you had said yes to him. “D’you want me to give you a baby, pretty girl?” He makes sure once more and yet again, you agreed.

“I’ll give you as many as you want…” Kazutora sat you on his thighs in a cradle before rocking upwards to you, placing your arms on his chest as a brace. You raised your hips and felt his length slip out before lowering your cunt on it abruptly.

Pleasure was making you slightly dizzy on top of him, but you made an effort to maintain your eyes on Kazutora at all times. By this point, your hips were colliding with each other with each thrust, evoking gasping groans from both of you as you watched your bodies connect.

“I’m not going to last any longer…” Kazutora admitted, feeling the pre cum from his tip coat your cervix. “That’s okay, I’m close yoo.” You insisted. You felt a little jolt as he abruptly shoved his hips upward. You gasped in shock before giving him a seductive glance.

It was excessive. Your orgasm overcame your senses and knocked the air out of your throat as it descended. Despite wanting to see Kazutora’s vulnerable expression, your eyes screw shut at the sensation of clamping your walls around his dick. The pleasure shook throughout your body.

Your husband was keeping an eye on you, and seeing you at your climax was all it took to push him over the edge. He finally lost it due to your grip, releasing all of his pent-up seed. It was so enthralling that he didn't want the moment to finish.

“You’re so amazing, my darling.” Kazutora praised as he laid your fragile body on the sheets.

♡ Mikey

Emma and Draken had just left your home after collecting their infant, who had been under you and his uncle Mikey's care for the entire morning and afternoon. If it wasn't for Draken who restrained him while Emma took the baby back, Mikey wouldn't have wanted to let go of the little bundle of joy.

“[ Y / N ], just give Manjiro a baby already.” Emma remarks in jest before Draken bids goodbye and closes the door behind them, leaving a very flustered Mikey behind. You chuckled at your husband's reaction before pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead, “Go get cleaned, honey. I'll make the bed.” He hummed affectingly, closing his eyes in alleviation before murmuring into your ear, “Love you so much~”

If his scratchy voice didn't already drive you crazy, your heart sure did skip when Mikey's hands found their way to your hips, slipping under your shirt and onto your skin before tracing delicate circles. You froze. You balled the collar of his shirt, closed your eyes, and pressed your cheek to his hair before gasping out. Mikey made a gesture that typically you found sweet, but tonight, it switched something inside you. He secretly blushed from the sound you made before withdrawing from your embrace and then doing his business upstairs.

The entire time you prepared for bed, you couldn't resist the thoughts of having your husband touch and fondle you in such sensual ways; It's nothing out of the ordinary to lust for your husband, yet tonight, you felt more drawn to him than usual. it's like... hold on.

Glancing at the calendar, you realize that it has been two weeks since your period. of course, you are ovulating. Explains the baby fever you felt too while watching you and Mikey's nephew. While it is a guaranteed card to get laid, the intense lust almost aches; the only thing plaguing your mind is having Mikey touch all over your body as he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

“Good night, my darling wife.” From underneath the covers and your shirt, Mikey’s hand cups your breast and starts to massage it gently, twisting and pulling at your nipple. His other hand was caressing your legs, and his fingers tickled as they softly moved up your inner thighs. You were enjoying his touches so much you didn’t realize the pooling mess in between your legs that began to soak through your panties. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Mikey muttered and toyed with your clit slowly before pressing soft kisses on your neck.

Your heart is aching from eagerness, melting, and ready to breach from your chest at any moment. Fortunately, Mikey also got impatient and tugged your panties aside, making you feel his erect shaft, which had been straining in his pants ever since he spotted you splayed on your marital bed. “Good girl,” He praises, sinking into you again and again.

Normally, Mikey would whimper and grunt into your ear during sex. But tonight, feeling how significantly aroused and tight you are, Mikey didn't bother to strain the pornographic moans in his throat as he drove into your puffy g-spot.

Your hands flew up in an instant, encasing his face in your palms. He was ready to pause and kiss you, until you muttered something that had him reeling. “Knock me up, honey.” Although his head hadn't yet absorbed the words, his body had, and the words had come as a surprise to him. He came abruptly and forcefully, his head falling to nuzzle your neck as a heavy grunt erupted from his chest. Mikey’s orgasm had brought you to yours as he rode it out in shallow thrusts.

Mikey rolled off you to lay down at your side; your legs entwined as he was still inside you. “I love you….” he muttered lovingly.

To be connected with him in the most intimate ways was always so enchanting. You two stayed like that, just snuggling as you caught your breath, knowing that whatever happened in the future because of tonight, you two would do it together with love.

♡ Hanma

Hanma took you into a romantic weekend getaway at a cabin house. The day of birdwatching and camping was long over and when the navy blue took over the cerulean blue sky.

Upon arriving in your cabin, you two settled down on the settee positioned by the warm fireplace, the sound of burning wood and the scent of pine trees completed the atmosphere. You notice that his eyes have the same sparkle that you admired when you first met him after exchanging a lingering stare with him.

Hanma's pulse was hammering as he leaned forward to take in the view, his heart pounding at how stunning you looked with the continuous stream of sunlight streaming into the cabin room. He leaned in close enough that the points of your cupid's bows touched for another fiery kiss.

As you closed the distance between you and him, your hold on his jaw loosened. You pressed your lips against his, eyes peering up at his, as if checking to see if he was still down with it.Your lips brushed across his tenderly before you firmly planted them there. His brows knitted together and eyes remained open until your hand reached up to cradle the soft patch of locks at the back of his head and your tongue flicked at his lower lip.

Instead of touching you, he lets you touch him, allowing you to find your own degree of comfort. Both yours and Hanma's coats slid down your back, falling off your shoulders. You started unbuckling your belt straps as you stared down at him. As you reached the buttons on your blouse, the leather dropped about your waist. As you unfastened the buttons one by one, he attentively watched you, his eyes memorizing every piece of exposed skin. Even though you've done it countless times already before, seeing you undress just for him did something to him that he couldn't put into words. It was an image that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“You're finally off your period, baby?” Hanma remarked as your lips pressed together again, hot and heavy. He last initiated to be intimate with you while you were in the middle of your period, but you gently rejected. So he has been waiting ever since.

He was speechless as to what you were doing to him. He felt weightless, like if he were soaring through the air, rising higher with each kiss and amount of contact between your hips. “Yes…”

Before slowly moving his hands over your exposed abdomen, he waited until you were stripped down to your cotton bra. As he played at the cloth beneath your breasts, his eyes followed you, looking for permission to push his fingers past it. As his hands excitedly stroked and kneaded the skin of your exposed breasts, you tugged the garment up and over your head completely, flinging it aside and leaning over him.

He bit back a low grunt as your hand cupped his bulge, stopping his hips from arching into the warmth of your palm. He did as he was told and unbuckled his belt. As he drew out his erection through his pants, his warm stare didn't flinch away from yours. He didn't consider himself a nervous person, but something about being completely at your mercy was too much for him to stand.

His hands reached down to your thighs and circled your pelvis, just above your core, tickling the sensitive area there. You groaned in agony, your legs swaying in anticipation. He indulged you because he sensed your impatience. As the touch of his rough fingers ran across your sensitive bud, his eyes narrowed and a cry dropped from your eager lips. Then he rested his finger there, leaning in close to you and curling the digit against it again and over, causing your lips to open, body tensing, and stars flashing in your eyes.

"You like that?" He said in a low, sultry tone, eyes locked hard on your dazed expression. Of course he knew you loved that.

"That's my good girl. Feel good?" You nod, out of breath and dizzy. He grinds himself up against you and brushes his member up and down your wet folds, enclosing you in his embrace. Your body jerks, his smooth cock sliding against your excessively sensitive bud, eliciting a small sequence of aftershocks that lead him to tut and smile smugly. Then he pushes himself halfway into you and waits a moment for you to open up for him. Slowly, his hips pull back, almost entirely separating him from you before plunging in further deeper. He goes through the motions once more, sliding out only to sink back in with ease all the way to the hilt.

A string of curses fall from his lips as your hips grind against him haphazardly, too thrown by the cusp of your orgasm to be able to match his rhythmic thrusts. As the coil finally snaps you clamp down hard on his cock, a loud moan tearing out from you as you cum wholly wrapped up in him. For a moment his hips still, letting you fuck yourself through your orgasm before he still for a moment, head thrown back and words slipping out quickly, "Where do you want it?"

"I-In me." Your breathy moans of his name were enough to make him shoot his release, pouring it deep inside you just as you wanted as he reached his climax.

You collapsed on top of your husband, his member still deep inside you while the two of you caught your breaths, bodies fitting together like a puzzle.

You two stayed like this for a moment, letting yourselves peacefully bask into each other's embrace intimately by the fire and reminiscing what may be the start of the final days of being "just you two".

♡ Sanzu

Your heart was beating impossibly fast as your back slammed against the door of your bedroom, Sanzu reaching blindly to open it before he had his hands on yours once again. You were thrilled that your husband was just as needy as you are, after all, you were the one who first dragged him out of Bonten's afterparty at the club directly below your penthouse.

Your knees struck the edge of the mattresses as Sanzu pushed you into the bed. The metal bands on his fingers sent goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your back to unzip your dress. Sanzu broke the kiss to allow himself to soak in the sight of your body, concealed only in your panties.

You responded by reaching up to seize his undone tie, luring him into another lustful kiss while you took turns removing his clothing.

“I don’t have a condom.” Sanzu bit his lip after the lie, waiting for your response. He had been thinking about hitting it raw for several days now and he just couldn't wait any longer.

“It’s okay…” You insist, murmuring against his lips with a smirk. “I want this…” Your whisper is followed by a soft gasp when Sanzu pushes you to the bed. He groaned at the feeling of your soft breast pushing against his, as he pulled your panties off.

You reached your hands to cup his face in your hands, leaning up to press a hungry kiss to his lips. And that was when Sanzu pushed himself inside you. Your moans were synced, both consumed by the pent-up tension you two have been holding onto.

He precisely filled you up, pressing into every little crevice and nerve as he thrust. Your legs lifted up to his shoulders, the new angle allowing Sanzu's tip to nudge against your cervix. He let out a vulnerable moan, his hands fisting the mattresses tighter with every blow.

You moaned his name loudly, hands reaching above your head to brace yourself on the cushioned headboard.

Sanzu pressed a thumb on your clit in response, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your leg as he kept a steady pace.

“I’ll make you a daddy~” You flashed him a mischievous grin as your legs fell to wrap around his waist, locking his member pistoning inside you. Moans echoed through the room louder than you initially planned to, but Sanzu loved it.

Sanzu's body felt like it was on fire when the nickname escaped your lips. “You’ll make a pretty mommy.” He moaned in between thrusts, one hand gripping the headboard behind you for better traction.

“Let's cum together, sweetheart.” That was all you needed before you were pushed over the edge into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your nails sank onto Sanzu's shoulders, clinging onto him as he rode out your orgasm.

“So perfect, baby…” Your husband's moans were rough and low, choking on a grunt as he pushed his cum deep inside you.

♡ Ran

Even though you have only been at work for four hours, you are already regretting leaving your husband in bed, wishing nothing but to be in his arms right now. You weren't usually clingy to Ran, in fact, it was the other way around. However, today you felt a stronger yearning toward him than usual.

“What’re you thinking about, miss?” Her assistant jokes.

You shook it off, realizing you had been zoning out yet again. You’ve been thinking about so many things about Ran, but there’s no way you could tell her that.

“Nothing, just a little sleepy.” Yes, sleepy is the way to put it… “I’d be glad to take over for you, ma’am.” She insisted. “Are you sure? Alright, thank you so much. Ring me up if you need anything.” You smiled at your assistant before handing her the papers, waving on the way out.

1PM. Ran is usually in his own office at the Bonten HQ around this time. You cannot wait to go home to him tonight and you wanted to be sure that he'd feel the same way, thinking about nothing but hving you for the rest of his work.

So, on the spur of the moment, you scrolled through your personal "intimate" photo album, specifically selecting one in which you wore a set of black lace lingerie that Ran had purchased for you.

sent 3 images

miss you, honey ♡

You were pretty proud of your text, knowing that Ran might get in trouble once he opens it while at work.

However, as minutes pass, you start to wonder what he may be up to this time. You could only hope that it was a good time to send that text, or maybe he may really get in trouble for causing him such distraction.

“[ Y / N ]-sama, a package for you at the door.” Your assistant says over the intercom. You took a breath and placed your hand at the door. You didn’t even get the chance to look up before you heard an unmistakable voice clear their throat.

“Where’s my hello, darling?” You immediately blushed, your eyes hesitantly looking up to meet the source of the voice. And there was your husband, clad in all black. A few strands of his lilac hair hovered over his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed together.

“Baby,” You breathed. Ran uncrossed his arms and locked you in his embrace. “You called for me, angel?” A slight rasp in his voice as he whispered drove you crazy.

“Ran...” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought your lips up to meet him in a fiery kiss. He smiled against your lips, gladly obliging to your request as your lips spoke for the pent up desire you held for each other.

Your breaths picked up, as did your heart rates as Ran’s grip on your waist grew tighter, wanting more. Suddenly, his hands effortlessly hoisted you onto your desk. He knocked off a few things to make room for you on the surface.

As Ran’s fingers crept higher up your skirt, your legs spread wider to make space for his petite waist. Ran held you flush against his body, one hand roaming your back as you held each other close. “My naughty wife needs me…” He whispered, undoing his pants before bringing himself closer to you as he set your panties aside.

The tip of his shaft brushed your clit. You moved his member along your folds, thoroughly soaking the tip. Ran felt goosebumps in his arms as you both exchanged breathless gasps in pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl to me…” He whispered, kissing you softly. Slowly but surely, you took the entirety of his length just before he hits your cervix due to the position you're in. Ran slowly withdrew before slamming back into you in exactly the same spot he stopped at.

“Am I taking you well, honey? D’you hear that? Fuck, you dick me down so good.” You praised, whispering seductively into his ear. You felt Ran’s length throb inside of you upon hearing those words before he pushed one deep thrust with a grunt,

“Keep talking like that and I might just blow my load deep inside you.” You and Ran had always been careful. But his suggestion puts ideas in your head.

You are aware that you have a high chance of getting pregnant today, and that only pushed you into agreeing to your husband. Ran had always been vocal about dreaming of having children with you, but he is also very considerate and respectful of your decisions so he waited for the right time for you.

You are happy with the stability in your life and would dearly love to expand your small family with Ran.

He started to dive into you a little harder as he could feel himself releasing shortly. By how you clenched his shaft a lot tighter, he could tell that you were close to your climax too.

“Where do you want it, baby—?” Ran whispered, holding your body softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist just in time. Ran came hard and suddenly, straining his moans against your lips in a kiss. That answered his question and was all he needed to pour his load into your pussy as you came together.

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