#what is it with flute glasses anyway

[july-19th-club]

why eat girldinner when you can eat like the man i once saw in a diner in custer south dakota who sat alone gobbling a whole chuck wagon's worth of eggs and bacon and toast and pancakes and oatmeal and

#i am not even having a third of what he was having and im like. oh my god this is so decadent. SIX pieces of bacon! TWO eggs! a beer no less #he was like. the human personification of the tom cardy song 'big breakfast' #pot of coffee. big glass of milk. he may also have had some hashed browns in there and some french toast to round it all off #he was like six foot something and he wore a leather jacket and he was alone at the diner just. deeply invested in this breakfast #we later saw him at a museum it turned out he was a flute craftsman. #his booth was pretty busy because they were beautiful instruments and i was like. wow i know that guy from Breakfast! #anyway. any time i make breakfast food (mostly for dinner) i think of him #i hope he is breakfasting as powerfully today as he did that day fifteen years ago

[tojisun]

currently obsessed with biker!simon!!!! how do you think he and reader met? i think, whatever the situation was, he was the one that couldn't get his eyes off her and started to bluntly stare??? maybe soap was with him and laughed bc he had never saw him get this serious about any girl he had laid his eyes on 😫😫😫😫

BAE I WENT FERAL WHEN I READ THIS BECAUSE YEAH!!! YEAH

ok so this is gonna be ridiculous but bear with me because im actually so obsessed with biker!simon im unwell

simon prefers using his bike whenever he’s out with his friends. there’s no use taking his car, anyway. not with kyle hitching a ride with john, and johnny taking his own car on the few occasions that he does bring someone home with him.

simon’s never had to take those things into account because he preferred a quiet end to his nights, anyway. just a shot of bourbon and a short dinner with his friends, and then he’s back on the road and on his way home.

so he’s never had regrets with taking his bike. until today, of course.

he’s noticed you since you walked into the bar with your friends, your arm hooked around one of them and your head tilted to hear them better. the others who are not engaged in a discussion with you whipped their heads around to find an empty booth and simon almost crushed his glass at the way his heart leapt when he realized that the closest empty booth in the place was the one directly beside his group’s. 

simon watched as your group moved closer, the chatter finally piercing his ears and, unconsciously, his body turned to hear you better. from in front of him, johnny’s pinched lips finally wobbled as he wheezed out a laugh, breaking simon’s focus.

“what?” simon barked out, feeling warmth creep up from his neck to his ears, half of his mind focused on the group settling behind him. 

“holy shit,” johnny said mid-laughter. “you don’t know anythin’ about subtlety.”

simon grumbled then, in denial, but now he just fully stopped caring.

somehow, as the night progressed, simon gravitated towards the seat facing yours, a spot where he had a clear vantage view of you. he’s taken advantage of the change in seating, devouring the sight you make as you giggled with your friends. devouring the change in atmosphere, now that you’ve begun to return his heated looks.

it started with curious looks, born from your friend whispering to you how simon was staring; how, throughout the night, he did not entertain all those who went up beside him and focused only on you. then your gaze shifted into something scalding. something that sent liquid fire warming simon from the pit of his stomach to the back of his spine.

mactavish sighs beside him. “just buy the lass a drink already.”

simon peels his eyes away from you to look at johnny, mulling over the suggestion before grunting out a thanks. he stands up and walks to the bar, calling out to get the bartender’s attention.

remembering the bellini that you’ve been nursing since you got here, simon asks for another flute of the cocktail and requests that it be served to you. he turns when he says this, hoping to give the bartender a clear view of who the bellini is for only to blink in surprise when he sees you standing just a few feet away from him.

“sir?” the man behind the counter asks.

“sorry. just serve it here,” simon replies, his eyes still on you. there is shuffling behind him, the bartender probably leaving to whip up his order, but simon honestly doesn’t care anymore.

not when you finally shuffle close, a shy smile dancing on your lips.

“hello,” you greet, voice a hesitant whisper, and simon feels like he’s been gutted.

you’re so goddamn beautiful, it’s catastrophic. 

simon thinks of how short you are, something he’s first noticed the moment you walked into the bar. it’s not like he’s surprised by the realization given that he tends to tower over anyone ever since he hit his growth spurt, but there is something unfurling in the pit of his stomach as he realizes how perfectly you fit in his arms. how easy it would be to just tuck you underneath his chin and slot himself around you. 

“hey,” he finally replies, his eyes roving along your features, trying to memorize the shimmer of your lips. the long wisps of your lashes. “‘m simon.”

you giggle, introducing yourself shyly, and the sound of your laughter tickles his ears, making him weak to his knees. he mouths your name, testing it out for himself and preening when it rolls off his tongue with ease. like your name is something simon is supposed to always call. 

his new favourite word.

“sorry,” you say, lifting your hand like you want to reach out and touch him, only for you to snuff out the action in your anxiousness. “i don’t, uh, come up to people i find attractive so this is really making me nervous.”

simon is aware of how good he looks – he’s proud of it even – but there is something about a pretty darling like you admitting how his looks make you nervous that sparks the desire in him to transform into something more carnal.

something more visceral.

he reaches his hand out toward you, inviting you to finally close the remaining distance between you two, and smiles when you take the offer, placing your hand on top of his palm, sending goosebumps to rise across his skin. you step into his space and simon has to stop himself from breathing you in, afraid how he’ll end up reacting when he’s taken a whiff of your intoxicating scent. 

“i’ve ordered you a drink,” simon whispers, his voice a hoarse croak.

“oh,” you mumble. “thank you...”

he notes the hesitation in your words, the bubble in his chest popping as his worry extinguishes his burning desire. “you don’t have to drink it.”

“no!” 

he startles at your reaction, his wide eyes staring back at your equally shocked ones. 

it takes a heartbeat before the two of you are breaking off into choked laughter, your body angled to muffle your giggles on the sleeves of his sweater. simon’s heart clenches at the cute display and he curls his arms around you, pulling you close until your head is pressed on his chest.

he wonders if you can hear how fast his heart is beating.

it takes a while for the laughter to fizzle out, leaving you putty in his arms, your chin digging into his chest as you gaze up at him. simon eagerly returns your stare, his lips stretched into the softest of smiles now that he has you in his arms. he brushes your hair away from your face, warmth exploding in his chest at your happy little sigh.

“wanna leave this place with you,” you tell him and simon trembles with need. 

because he wants you to come home with him too. wants to show you how a sweetheart like you deserves to be treated. how you deserve to be cherished and pampered and revered. 

then, he remembers his goddamn harley. 

fuck. 

wait. now that he thinks about it-

“is there something wrong?” you ask, face creasing in worry at seeing his frown. 

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” simon replies, his mind already mapping out the roads to his place. “lemme just grab my keys while you drink up, yeah?”

you nod softly, eyes fluttering close when simon leans forward to press his lips on the top of your head, before stepping away from your warmth. he watches the way you ambled towards the bar counter, carefully picking up your new flute of bellini before turning to show him that adorable little smile that simon’s starting to be addicted to and taking a small sip of your cocktail.

the wrap of your pretty lips around the straw shouldn’t stir something so carnal in him but it does and simon gulps, well aware of the sudden thirst that sucked the moisture from his throat, before turning to march towards his table.

johnny whistles out loud when simon reaches them, tipping his new glass of beer and whooping even when kyle growls how he’s being too loud. simon would’ve sided with garrick, but his patience is running thin and the need that is raging within him is gaining strength so he ignores them both to stand beside johnny.

“keys.”

“what?”

“mactavish, give me your keys.”

“...why?”

simon holds in a sigh as he watches kyle reach over to smack johnny on the back of his head. “what the hell do you think?” 

john continues to ignore the group, his eyes trained somewhere on the dance floor. traitor, simon thinks. 

“oh,” johnny whispers. “oh!” 

he tries not to tap his foot as johnny grapples with his trousers, hitting his elbows on the edge of the table and angrily cursing in scottish, before finally fishing them out of the depths of his pockets and presenting them to simon. simon takes them with urgency, almost ripping them from johnny’s fingers, before throwing the keys of his harley to johnny and barking out his thanks.

“use protection!” johnny screams because of course he would. he’s a fucking bastard.

simon flips him off as he marches back towards you. 

you look up at hearing him call your name, your beautiful face glowing as you smile at him again.

god, he’ll never tire of seeing your pretty smile.

“ready?” he asks, masking the excitable tremble of his voice with a quick cough.

“mhmm!” you reply, putting down your half-empty cocktail and clambering beside simon’s side. he presses another kiss on the top of your head, this time no longer holding back as he breathes you in, and leads you out towards johnny’s car.

next time, he’ll take you out for a bike ride. 

because simon promises that there will be a next time.

starting to think if i might need a masterlist for biker!simon atp // edit: mlist!

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ask #dragonstoneshortcake #suns

[ickadori]

++ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄

[summary] compared to zayne’s colleague’s accomplishments, as well as his own, you’re feeling sorely unequipped to stand by his side at the banquet.

[cws] fem reader -> hunter reader. bit suggestive at the end, but otherwise sfw. unedited.

You were completely out of your element.

The banquet that you had accompanied Zayne to was everything you thought it was going to be: Prestigious, elite, and entirely out of your league.

Zayne had assured you that you looked the part, and you supposed you did with the getup he had helped you pick out. A beautiful dress that clung to you like a second skin, accentuating all your good points and dolling up your bad ones (Zayne always told you that you had no bad points, and you always told him to get his glasses prescription doublechecked). Your hair was done nicely, tucked neatly with pins that you had nearly been too scared to use in fear of damaging them. A diamond necklace, gifted from none other than Zayne on Valentines night, rested against your skin with a matching set of earrings.

Your heels were from a designer whose name you had failed to properly pronounce repeatedly, and they were just as beautiful as the dress, the perfect color and style to tie the look together nicely.

You looked the part alright, but you felt nothing of the sort. Your nerves had been churning in your stomach the moment you two made it to the venue, and that churning had kicked into tenfold with each introduction.

You met esteemed doctors who you had seen in news articles dozens of times to celebrate their accomplishments, professors that taught at universities you couldn’t even dream of getting into, classmates that screamed money and class with their dazzling white smiles, sparkling jewelry, and bumptious way of speaking.

And they met you, a hunter who had a knack for getting herself injured on the job and making her boyfriend’s stress load even heavier.

You hadn’t gone to college, nor had you held any other job besides being a hunter. You had known what you wanted to do from an early age, and the moment you had turned old enough to join the Hunters Association you ran off to take your test and get the process started. You were proud to be a Hunter and you loved your job for the most part, but standing here now in a room filled with people far more accomplished than you in every way imaginable, you felt…inadequate.

You solemnly sip at your champagne flute as you stand by Zayne’s side, his arm wound around your waist as he talks with one of his old professors. You had tried to keep up with their conversation in the beginning, but once the topic of research came up and the medical jargon came out to play you had tuned the both of them out.

“…like I’ve bored your plus one half to death.” Laughter brings you out of your thoughts, and a sheepish smile takes over your face when you see two sets of eyes focused on you. “My apologies, Miss, this old man just doesn’t know when to shut his trap, it seems. I guess it’s time I find another ear to blab off.”

“Oh, no, please stay, you’re fine! I’m sorry, I was just.. lost in thought.” The man waves you off with a gentle smile.

“You two should enjoy each other’s company before someone else comes to hog his attention.” He jokes. “It was nice seeing you again, Zayne, and please do think about visiting the college sometime to talk with a few of the undergrads. A lot of them revere you, you know.”

“I’ll give it some consideration, Professor Grinley.” With a few more words, Grinley is making his way to the other side of the room and Zayne is letting out a heavy sigh. “Have I ever told you that I love the fact that you can’t hide your disinterest?” You throw a halfhearted thrown his way.

“I hope I didn’t offend him - he sounded so excited to talk with you, too. Oh, now I feel bad.” His arm around your waist tightens just a bit.

“Don’t. I was just about to make our exit anyways if you hadn’t done it first.” He steers the both of you to the outskirts of the crowd, and your shoulders lose a bit of their tension when you feel like there aren’t so many eyes on the both of you. “Something has been bothering you all night and I haven’t been able to figure out what.”

He moves to stand in front of you, head angled down as he catches your eye. “Would you care to tell me?”

“It’s something silly, hardly even worth talking about.” You take another sip of your champagne, this time longer, and Zayne patiently waits for you to swallow and lower your glass back down.

“It’s not silly if it’s upsetting you.” He softly says, pale hand raising to tuck away an errant piece of hair. “Are you—”

“Dr. Zayne!” A bright flash makes you squint your eyes, and you huff at the event photographer before plastering a smile on your face as the both of you turn to face him.

“I never want to see another camera after tonight.” You say through a practiced laugh, and Zayne places his hand on your hip and gives a comforting squeeze. After the photographer has had his fill he’s moving onto the next person, bright light flashing on welcoming parties.

“We can head outside for some fresh air, if you want. The speech isn’t for another hour.” You give a slow nod.

“Yeah, I think—”

“Dr. Zayne! Can you answer a few questions regarding your latest surgery?”

“Dr. Zayne! It’s been so long since our last banquet - how are you doing these days?”

“Dr. Zayne!”

Knowing he’d walk away from the forming crowd with nothing more than a mildly polite ‘excuse us’, you nudge him a bit and give a small smile.

“Go ahead. I needed to use the bathroom anyways.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, now go.” You shoo him to the crowd, not missing the way the corners of his mouth quirk down, and make your exit out of the hall. When the door shuts behind you, the noise goes down considerably, and you sigh as you lean back against it.

The walk to the bathroom is short, and you brace your hands on the sink’s counter as you stare at your reflection. You do look nice - well put together, which is a stark contrast to how you usually look when you’re out in the field with a blade in hand and muck on your clothes.

You’ve always felt like an outsider when it came to Zayne and his work, a little bit less than, and it had been one-sided issue on your part in the beginning of your relationship. There was always a voice in the back of your head reminding you that he could do so much better, and the media only enabled that voice to get louder and louder over time.

Zayne was a bit of a celebrity in his own right, so he often found himself on the topic line of some article or blog, and coupled with being attractive, his love life was usually always one of the main talking points.

You usually steered clear of those things, learning from the first time you had scrolled through an article featuring the both of you and saw many unsavory comments about you in particular, but words always had a way of getting back to you, no matter how much you ignored them.

You tried to pay it no mind -what did it matter that a bunch of strangers on the internet didn’t think you were good enough for Zayne- but it seemed like you couldn’t stop recalling all those things that had been said as you were forced to see just how big the gap was between the two of your worlds.

A sudden knock on the door makes you jump, and you call out a ‘just a second’ as you turn the water on to wash your hands. The sound of the knob turning makes you frown, and you turn your head to protest, only to stop when Zayne steps inside and closes the door behind himself.

“Zayne?”

“I believe I’ve finally figured out what has you upset.” You quirk a brow before pulling free a paper towel from the dispenser.

“Have you?”

“I have.” He takes slow steps towards you, head slightly angled to the side, and your hands fidget together as he gives you a slow appraisal. “And I’m here to tell you that it’s without merit.” He stops mere centimeters away, and you breathe in the scent of his signature cologne as you lean against the marbled counter. “That room full of, as you would say, snobby, elitist assholes—”

“—oh, I would never.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a ghost of a smile.

“—could never dream of holding a candle up to you and all that you’ve accomplished in your life.”

“That’s the thing, Zayne, I haven’t accomplished anything.” You stress. “All I’ve done is—”

“Save countless lives by exterminating Wanderers - likely far more than I have in all of my career.” Cold hands move to cup your cheeks. “I admire you deeply, truly. I’ll never know what I did to deserve someone as compassionate, brave, strong, smart, and as beautiful as you, but I’m eternally grateful.” His voice is low as he speaks, and you don’t miss the tinge of pink creeping into his ears and crawling up his neck.

Warmth blooms in your chest as he holds your gaze, and it quickly spreads throughout your whole body when cool lips press against your own. Your lids flutter shut as you arch into him, one of his hands flattening in the dip of your back to keep you pressed against him.

The kiss is much too frenzied for this public bathroom, and it seems that Zayne comes to the same conclusion as he reluctantly pulls away, but not before giving you another long, more chaste kiss.

The two of you part with a suctioned noise, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as the both of you struggle to catch your breath.

“Y’know,” you begin, “you’re awfully good at making me feel better.” An uncharacteristic glint sparkles in his eye, and you gasp when he tugs you even closer with a firm grip, his eyes locked onto yours as he lowers his voice.

“I assure you that this is nothing - just wait until I get you home.”

#zayne love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader #love and deep space x reader

[macfrog]

you shook me all night long sex on fire chapter one

requested by @whore-4-pedro (hope u enjoy lovely)

lived all my succession fantasies out writing this one icl. enjoy 🖤 check out my masterlist for more joel fun ‼️

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: as joel miller's assistant, you're expected to meet all his needs. some are a little more personal than others

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) creepy dude at the beginning, lotta teasing and touching, mentions of female masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), alcohol and drug use, cursing, low-key inappropriate work relationship (if bad then why sexy?)

word count: 7.8k

series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more. You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin. “I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?” “Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

It’s Friday night.

You only got home from work an hour and a half ago. Tired, hungry, sore eyes from staring at a screen all night, sore back from sitting hunched over all day. Dumped your bags at the door, ripped your clothes off by your bed, dove straight into the shower. You’d picked an outfit, curled your hair in record time, and even done your makeup before Deb called to say she was out front.

It was a ten-minute drive from your place to the hotel – it’s only a couple blocks from work. The cab driver made light conversation, talked about his daughter and her new puppy, and you both nodded and uhuhed in all the breaks in his sentences. Deb made some comment about it being easier if you���d just stayed at the office until the party, and you’d hummed in agreement, looking out the window at the regal hotel.

Truth be told, you’d rather be doing anything other than attending a work function. You’ve had a long week. A lot of meetings, paperwork, emails to be answered, and most of all, running around after your boss. It’s not all fun and games being Joel Miller’s assistant, regardless of the pay, or the view from your desk over to his.

Your head’s elsewhere when you waltz through the revolving door, heels clicking along the marble floor. The elevator – gold, by the way – slides open and you both step inside, hitting the highest button before you’re swept up twenty floors to the penthouse.

“Did you send those documents over to us yet?” Deb asks.

“Nope,” you reply, slipping out when the elevator dings. “Had to sit in on a meeting with Joel and take the fucking minutes, spent all night writing them up.”

“He won’t be pissed at you?”

“If he hadn’t insisted I was in there with him, you’d have your reports, wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs, agreeing.

“Anyway,” you continue, “I can take angry Joel. He doesn’t scare me.”

Deb chuckles as you shoulder the doors to the penthouse open.

It’s a moody dull, lit only by the lights lining the bar and small lamps decorating mahogany tables, sat next to deep green velvet couches. There are clusters of people everywhere you look; stood near shelves filled with leather-bound books, examining the view from the floor to ceiling windows, sprawled out over luxurious chairs with champagne flutes in their hands. There’s a tree in the middle of the room, branches decorated in blinking string lights reaching to a glass dome in the ceiling.

It's, like, sickeningly pretentious. You know it. Hell, you all know it. Still, in your little black dress, you strut over and take a champagne of your own, sipping on the fizzing drink with one elbow resting on the wooden bar.

“There’s my girl,” his voice coos over your shoulder. “Been watchin’ for you all night, took your time.”

You lean back, bored expression on your face.

Joel’s broad chest pulls on the white shirt he’s wearing, same one you just saw him in little over three hours ago, only without a tie; the top couple of buttons are undone to reveal his chest hair peeking through. You try not to let your eyes linger on him too long.

“You look fuckin’ ecstatic to be here.”

He leans against the bar next to you, arms crossed. When you don’t reply, he nudges you. Your champagne jolts in its glass.

“I always look like this. I’m always ecstatic to be everywhere.”

He smiles. “Why aren’t you mingling?”

“Don’t wanna.”

“’s a work event. That’s the whole point.”

“Then why are you over here talkin’ to me?”

His eyes flash across your lips, and you swear they drop for a nanosecond to your chest.

“Come on,” he says, taking your wrist in his huge hand, “some people you oughta meet.”

Joel ignores your sigh and leads you over onto a plush rug, sidling between knees to sit you down on the soft couch between himself and some bald dude in a jet blue suit, whose shirt is also undone, though much further than Joel’s. He has a chest like a hairless cat.

Cue Ball snakes an arm over the back of the couch; his fingers dance across your back. You shimmy a little closer to Joel and he notices instantly, jaw turning slowly to glance over. When he sees your knees angled toward him, seeking protection, he leans back and wraps his left arm around your shoulders, his right coming down to cup your knee.

“This,” he shakes your leg, left arm pulling you tighter against him, “is my wonderful assistant. My right-hand lady. Couldn’t do anything without her, could I?”

“Could wipe your own ass, that’s about it,” you mumble into your glass, and a roar of laughter sounds from your audience.

Joel, still leaning back, pulls his arm from you but keeps his shoulder firmly behind yours, making sure whatever the creep on your left tries, he’ll feel first. Your elbow rests in the crook of his, and you keep it there, quietly enjoying the intimacy of his body caging yours.

His left hand is settled on your thigh. You realize it after a swig of champagne, and start counting in your head how many seconds his fingers stay gripped on your skin.

He talks with his hands – always has. Walks around his office, ranting and raving sometimes, arms swinging around in the air while you take notes, or file your nails, or just watch until he’s done. For the next half hour, though, he only talks with his right hand. Only sips his beer with his right hand. Only scratches his beard, or pulls his phone from his pocket, or reaches up and passes you a second drink, and then a third, with his right hand.

You stay rigid, legs unmoving, eyes barely leaving his knuckles, locked tight around your thigh. There’s heat from his touch siphoning from his palm down through your skin, rippling like waves all through your body and pooling somewhere south of your belly button. No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake it. Can’t stop thinking about it. You barely notice when Cue Ball’s hand ghosts across your back a second time.

But Joel notices, straight away. He flashes the guy a look, and you swear he’s baring his teeth. Eyes locked on the blue suit like it’s a target, never blinking. He doesn’t say anything when his prey excuses himself to the bathroom, and you don’t turn to watch him go, but you do notice three other sharp-suited pricks stand and wander off in that direction after him.

Probably not a coincidence.

Joel still has a hold on your leg. Your flute is empty, and you lean forward to place it on the wooden table at your knees, beginning to stand.

His grip loosens, but he looks up at you as you tower over him.

“Cocktail,” you tell him with a sweet smile, and he nods, letting you go.

You know he’s watching you as you slink away. Is it the alcohol in your system, or something darker, that makes you sway your hips a little more for his benefit?

Deb’s over at the bar with Martha, another of Joel’s assistants. She’s around his age, worked for him much longer than you have, but when he hired you, you took on most of the groundwork. Following Joel’s orders– sorry, requests, organizing meetings, filing paperwork for him. Martha sits at a desk outside Joel’s office, answers the phone and directs anyone who happens to wander up to the top floor of the building.

Did I say directs? I meant strikes coldblooded fear within them and sends them back running the way they came, with just one look and a nod in the opposite direction.

Unless they’re there for a meeting with Joel, that is. And if they are, that’s where you come in. Good morning, Mr. Salazar, Mr. Miller will be right with you. This way, he’s just finishing up a call.

Martha’s a tough nut. But she likes you enough, so she smiles warmly as you approach.

“I’m hearing all about your note-taking this afternoon,” she hums when you hop up onto a barstool, catching the bartender’s eye. He trots over.

You sigh to Martha, eyes wide. “I didn’t leave until, like, eight. What the fuck’s that about? Can I just get a cosmopolitan, please?” you ask, and the bartender nods. He looks about fifteen.

Martha shakes her head, laughing. “He did it to me when I was first startin’ out, too. Told him to stick his minutes where the sun don’t shine.”

“I’ve been here three years,” you mutter, and Deb snorts.

“You’d think Joel would’ve changed his ways in the, what, seven decades since you started, Martha?”

It earns her a slap across the shoulder. You stifle your laugh behind your glass, thanking the teenager who served you it with a nod.

“Twenty years next March, actually,” Martha says.

“That so? D’you think he’ll get you anything for it?”

“If I’m lucky,” she sighs, eyes travelling up to the ceiling in thought, “a lunch break where he doesn’t bother me once.”

“Knowing Joel, that means a lunch break where he bothers you twice.”

You smile, glancing past the pretentious tree to where Joel is, and notice he’s already staring right back. A swarm of butterflies flutter around your stomach, dancing over the heat his handprint left within you. They only grow more violent when he stands and walks over, broad shoulders swaying, eyes flitting up and down your body.

You lean back, sitting up straight, eyeing him right back as he joins the three of you.

“Speak of the devil,” Martha says, and Joel chuckles in response, but his eyes never leave you.

“We were just talkin’ about Martha’s twenty years,” says Deb, winking.

He finally turns to answer her. “Oh, yeah? When’s that, then, old-timer?”

“Dirtball!” Martha yells, and Joel smirks. It goes straight to your core.

“How many Manhattans tonight, then, Deb?”

Deb holds her glass up. “I am on my second, and I will not be exceeding three. We don’t need a repeat of Christmas.”

“Aw,” Joel complains, tutting, “I liked hammered Deb.”

“That’s ‘cause you didn’t have to deal with hungover Deb,” you mutter, and she shoots you a look.

Joel smiles at you, takes a step closer as Deb and Martha begin comparing past hangovers. He leans forward, waves the fifteen-year-old down, and asks for a beer. As he leans back, you notice the weight of his wrist on your right hip. Nicely done.

“You know there are four guys in the bathroom doing coke?”

“I hope to God that’s all they’re doin’. I don’t need another orgyhappenin’ at one of these things.”

You giggle like a fucking schoolgirl. He looks pleased with himself, and you instantly regret it. You try to play it off by lifting your glass back to your lips.

Joel’s studying you, though, mapping every inch of your face. Watching your mouth as it curves around the shape of the glass, your tongue licking your lips after your sip. He tracks the glass as you set it back down on the bar, then his eyes trail along your arm to your dress, and your stomach leaps.

He looks so fucking good, it sends another wave of energy through your body. Dark hair lined with grey, beard much the same. Strong jaw, lips wetting with every sip of beer he takes, dark eyes flitting across yours, holding your stare long enough to melt you a little, and then dipping just before you can read the thoughts behind them.

His skin a little tanned, his neck thick with muscle. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, you’re so close. Close enough that you could lean up, part your lips and sink your teeth under his ear, suck a mark there, taste him on your tongue.

Your head cocks after a few minutes silence, just the two of you enjoying the fucking look of each other. You lean a little against his arm, steady around your back.

“I hate work parties,” you sigh.

Joel scoffs. “Free alcohol, nice penthouse. Cocaine, if you want it. What’s not to like?”

You narrow your eyes and he laughs for real.

“I hate ‘em, too, baby. Gotta keep up appearances, though, don’t we?”

Baby. This fucker.

“Do we?” you squeak, after a few seconds dazed.

He shrugs. “’s what I hear.”

He’s so close you can smell the beer on his tongue. It makes your heart quicken, your body hum with energy. That could just be the alcohol in your system, though, right?

Who are you kidding? It’s fucking Joel doing it to you.

You have no idea how long he was here before you arrived. He left the office around six, and you presumed he’d come straight here to check everything was in order before guests started arriving. How many beers has he had? Is he just drunk, feeling up on you with liquid courage?

You’re mulling over the thought when a pair of hands clamp down on Joel’s shoulders and his hold on your waist loosens. He mumbles an apology as he’s dragged away by a couple of loose-collared, baggy-suit drunks. You shake your head in response, trying to be cool – It’s all good, man. I’m good. I’m not totally fawning over you right now, no way.

Deb swings her barstool around when she notices you’re on your own, inviting you back into their conversation. Thirty seconds into talking about childhood pets, you’re wishing Joel was back around you, igniting your skin and peaking your adrenaline. Max the Pomeranian is a nice picture; Joel’s nicer.

Martha says something with a hand motion, and Deb nods, elbow knocking into yours.

“What?”

She nods toward the balcony. “We’re headin’ out for a smoke, you comin’?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll save your seats.”

They nod and wander off between a crowd, swallowed up by bodies in the direction of the open sliding doors, the blinking lights of the skyline ahead.

You’re twirling the base of your empty glass around on its napkin when you feel that same heat behind you again, and a hand rests on the small of your back.

“Coat,” Joel mutters, pulling his suit jacket on.

“Huh?”

“Get your coat. Everyone’s headin’ across the street.”

“Why is everyone heading across the street?”

He shrugs. “Afterparty, I guess.”

“It’s a work function. It’s like–” you check your phone, “–oh, fuck, it’s almost midnight.” You screw your face up, watching as the small crowd slowly melts away through the suite doors.

“I know. I throw a good party, right?”

“So good, people are leaving it.”

He tuts. “Coat. Now.”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“You didn’t bring a coat?”

“You told me the party was here. I didn’t think we’d be walking all over town.”

“’s not all over town, baby,” Joel murmurs with a sigh. “Here.”

He peels the jacket off his shoulders and you hold a hand out to stop him.

“Joel, it’s fine, it’s–”

“Quit moanin’,” he groans as he throws it over your shoulders. He scoops your hair and pulls it softly out from under the collar. “Alright? C’mon.”

He takes your hand and leads you past some stragglers down the hall toward the elevator, where a group are waiting for the doors to open.

“Tight squeeze, Miller,” some dude chuckles as you follow Joel in, his hand still gripping yours.

He turns, backing into the corner, pulling you with him until your back is flush against his chest.

His hands drop to your hips. You swallow back a scream.

One of the accountants is stood in front of your – Harriet? Helen? Something beginning with H – anyway, she keeps knocking back into you, pushed by the sway of the packed elevator. It means you knock a little into Joel, and feel his chin on the crown of your head.

You turn ever so slightly to mumble an apology to him, but when you feel his breath on the shell of your ear, your words die in your throat.

“Hazel?” – That’s her fucking name – Joel reaches around you to tap her shoulder, and her bobbed haircut swings when she turns. “Did you get those balance sheets yet?”

“Not yet, Joel,” she tells him, and your face prickles with heat.

“No? That’s weird.” Joel’s grip tightens on your hips, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. In a low whisper, only to you, he says, “Thought I asked to have ‘em sent over by this afternoon.”

You muster up the courage to reply with a deep breath. From the corner of your mouth, through gritted teeth, you tell him, “That was before you forced me to sit in on a buyers’ meeting.”

You feel his chest rumble between your shoulder blades as he laughs. The elevator shudders to a stop and the doors slide open; the crowd spills out.

You step forward, ahead of Joel, and make it maybe three steps before he’s back on you, an arm draped over your shoulders. You reach up and take his hand, leaning against his strong torso to let him guide you toward the exit.

No idea what makes you do it. Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe not only on alcohol.

You’re the last of the pack, stumbling over air across the gleaming floor toward the revolving door, which Joel pushes open for you. The cool night breeze hits you as you slip out.

The crowd ahead are rushing across the street, yelling and whooping as they go. It’s juvenile, a little cringe. A bunch of rich corporates skipping across the street toward cheap alcohol and peanuts. You’d care more about the way it looks if you were sober.

Joel’s hand finds yours again and he’s leading you down the steps, cutting between parked cars toward the dive bar. You link your other arm around his elbow and he glances down, noting it. You wish the walk was longer.

A flickering fluorescent light drowns you both in a red glow, and Joel pushes the doors open. The place is flooded with half of your party, drowning booths, leaning against the bar, dancing in any open floorspace.

The floor is sticky, the bar dim. Joel takes you over to the same crowd he introduced you to earlier, and makes space for you to sit. You slide along the booth to the wall and he follows, squeezing up to you to let two more in after him.

“Beers?” a guy with a loose tie asks, to a chorus of yeses and a show of thumbs up. Mitch? Mark?

You tug Joel’s jacket from your shoulders – the movement nudges him and he turns to lift it from your back and tuck it behind you, brushing the hair off your shoulders. You smile in thanks, and his hand falls back onto your leg.

It takes you a few minutes to notice it this time. The gentle squeeze of his fingers around your thigh, the way it slowly bumps up each time he adjusts in his seat or shifts to allow space for someone else to join the booth.

His hand moves slowly, dangerously close to pulling your skirt up with it. Mitch or Mark returns with your beers and you take a massive swig, nerves and anticipation and fucking need for Joel to keep doing what he’s doing, taking over.

Under lights blurred by the alcohol in your system, the table buzzes with energy and chatter and laughter. There are posters and stickers all over the walls, graffiti of names and initials, numbers and dates scored into the walls. Joel traces them with his finger and you laugh at some of the messages.

“Lydia and Jack,” you mumble, “12-24-19. Wonder what happened then.”

“Bathroom sex,” Joel replies, eyes scanning the wall.

You scoff, beer to your lips. “On Christmas Eve?”

He nods, like it’s obvious. “Magical time ‘n all.”

You look past him with a smile to the opposite side of the bar where, through silhouetted bodies, you notice a jukebox.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your eyes widen, your mouth agape.

Joel follows your eyeline and then twists back around. “C’mon,” he says, taking your hand and motioning for the others to let you by. He drags you over to the machine, lighting your faces up in yellow light, and your drunk eyes scan the screen.

“Nope." You swipe Joel’s hand away right before he can pick some Pet Shop Boys song.

“Really?”

“Good, but not the vibe,” you tell him, and budge him out of the way with your hip. He sways off, laughing, and leans a palm against the jukebox, his chest on your back for the second time tonight. As your tired eyes scan the songs, Joel’s chin rests on your shoulder.

He’s judging every fucking song you linger on. “Queen? Little before your time.”

“Dick.”

“Fleetwood Mac. Definitely before your time.”

“The entire fucking jukebox is before my time, dude. Shut up. These are good songs.”

You settle on a track and turn to face him. He has you almost fucking pressed against the box.

“Change, please.”

“Oh, I’m payin’, am I?”

“Mhm. Your work party, your wallet.”

He sighs and pushes a fist into his pocket for coins, tossing a quarter into your outstretched palm. You turn back and select your song, put the money in, and the old machine barks out the intro.

Joel sighs, shaking his head. “AC/DC? That’s your thing?”

“It’s not yours?” You’re taking him by the hand between bodies, swaying as you go.

He’s laughing, following you until you’re in the middle of the cramped bar, chest to chest, moving together. His hands find your waist again and this time you don’t even flinch; your fingers trail up his shirt, across his chest, settle on his collar.

You fucking swear he’s leaning in, each beat of the song drawing his jaw closer to yours. If you weren’t in a room full of co-workers, you’d probably let him kiss you.

I mean, what you’re doing right now is hardly innocent anyway. His hands are splayed on your lower back, your hips flat against his, rubbing, dancing. Your head rolls back and your lips are under his chin, smiling up at him and singing along. Joel sings the words straight back, your breath meeting and mingling in the tiny gap between your lips.

As the song ends, it fades into another. And another, and another. It’s two in the morning before your group of partiers begin to call taxis. You stumble out of the sweaty bar with an arm linked through Deb’s, still singing along to Whitney as you catch your breath.

She staggers off to a quieter part of the street to call a cab, and you hang around under the red light waiting for her. Joel’s stood at the curb; the back door of his sleek black Rolls-Royce open.

“Where you goin’?” he asks.

“Deb’s callin’ a cab,” you reply, arms folded, shoulders hunched.

Joel shakes his head. “Get in.”

“It’s cool, I’m jumping in with those guys. Thanks, though–”

“Baby,” Joel holds a hand out, “get in.”

Your eyes trace from his palm all the way up his sleeve, to his tired, handsome face. You’re sobering up. He looks clearer. Maybe that’s just the streetlights.

“Get you home in five minutes. C’mon.”

You swivel around to look for Martha and Deb, but they’re nowhere to be seen. The cab will come, they’ll assume you’re staying a while, and get in. No big deal, right?

Well. Stepping into your boss’s car after a night of highly inappropriate touching is kind of a big fucking deal.

That’s why you do it. Waddle over to him, take his hand, let him guide you to the car. You swing a leg in and slip across the seats, admiring the ceiling dotted with hundreds of tiny white lights, like you’re staring straight up at the night sky.

They blur through your drunken gaze, which doesn’t pull from them until you feel the weight of Joel on your right and hear the door slam shut.

“Mind puttin’ the partition up, Rand?” Joel’s voice says, though you mostly hear the vibrations through his chest, where your head is lying. His arm slips around your back, pulling you closer into him as the two of you are granted privacy by the quiet whir of the screen closing.

“Good night?” Joel asks, lips on your hair.

You nod. “You?”

“Mhm.”

His fingers are drawing shapes on your left hip. His right hand intertwines with yours. Your left hand starts to wander.

You liked his hand on you. Liked feeling his grip there. Wanted him to keep moving it up, wanted to see how far he’d take it. So, you put your own hand on the inside of his thigh, just like he did. Starting at the knee, and slowly sliding north. Joel’s breath tightens, his chest lifts, his jaw ticks.

The movement knocks you sober for a couple seconds. You realize what you’re doing. You draw your hand back.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

He unlinks your hands and places a steady palm over your withdrawn fist.

“’s okay, baby. You can do that if you want to.”

The drawl of his voice makes your eyes roll back, your heart leap. Your fucking legs clench.

You let him replace your hand where it was, and his legs widen a little. His crotch more available. You’re watching what you’re doing like you’re not even in your own body; watching it how Joel must be, thinking Higher, higher, keep going, keep doing that.

You lift your heavy head, resting it on his shoulder, and look up into his brown eyes. He’s framed by the starlit ceiling of the car. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, face lined with his expression.

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod lazily. “Tired.”

Just then his hand takes yours again and shifts it softly, stopping what was probably about to happen but still holding onto you, still wanting your fingers locked in his. Not halting the train, just switching tracks.

It’s not a long journey, certainly not as long as you’d like, until you’re parked on your street. Rand lowers the partition to call back, and Joel thanks him.

“You okay gettin’ to your apartment?”

“Yup,” you groan, hoisting yourself out of the comfortable car.

“Sure? I can walk you up if you want.”

You bend down, one arm on the roof of the car. “I’m good, thanks. Thanks for the ride, Miller.”

“Be safe, baby.”

“You be safe, too. Bye.”

You throw the door closed and meander off up the steps toward your building. Joel’s car doesn’t roll off until your elevator arrives and you disappear inside.

You spend all weekend in bed, recovering not only from the party but from the week of work you’d endured. You keep yourself busy, though. There’s a Desperate Housewives marathon on TV. And when you’re not watching that, your hand is stuffed down your pants, Joel on your mind.

All. Fucking. Weekend.

In the shower, you’re picturing him on his knees in front of you, lapping you up. Hands gripping your thighs, draped over his shoulders. Your hand plants firmly against the wet tile when you cum, your orgasm threatening to collapse you in a heap.

In bed, you’re on top of him, knees either side of his waist, letting him buck his hips up until you’re screaming, covering him in your wet. Your vibrator battery dies by Saturday night.

Monday morning, you’re getting ready to leave for the office, and need to take ten minutes out to relieve the ache between your legs again. This time, he has you pressed against your bedroom wall, fucking you quick and messy, cumming deep inside you before he’ll let you head out.

It’s just a crush, right? It’s just because of how touchy you guys were on Friday. When you were drunk. And in a cramped, dark dive bar. Everybody gets crushes. And who wouldn’t, on a six-foot-whatever man with a jawline that could cut glass, hands that take a grip of you with minimal effort, a cock probably the size of…

No. Nope. That’s enough. Cut that the fuck out.

It’s just a crush. That’s what you keep telling yourself in the elevator, lights counting down the floors until you’re going to see Joel again. Is the sparkling feeling in your chest fear, anticipation, or excitement?

And is your cunt beginning to throb again?

You give a curt nod to Martha as you arrive, hauling your bag a little further up your shoulder and adjusting the folders in your arms on your hips.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, eyes still on the computer in front of her. Her chin propped on her elbow, face inches from the screen, reading something intently.

“Huh?”

“On Friday. We couldn’t find you when the cab arrived.”

“Oh, I, uh,” you clear your throat, “Joel gave me a ride. Yeah.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Generous of ‘im.”

“Yup.”

“He’s in the conference room waitin’ for you.”

“Cool, thanks.”

You hover for a few seconds, then take your cue to leave. You hurry over to the conference room door, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Joel’s sat at the top of the table, leant back in his chair, feet up on the wood in front of him. You feel like you could collapse.

“Mornin’,” he says, over the dull droning from the phone. Your eyes flit down to it, a question, and he answers, “weekend update.”

“Anything good?”

He shakes his head, leaning forward to hit the unmute button, affirm whatever the hell the other dude had been saying, say his goodbyes, and then hang up.

“Feelin’ fresh?” he asks when he’s sat back.

You take a deep breath and wobble your head as an answer, laying files and folders out on the table in preparation for the meeting Joel has this morning.

“That bad, huh?”

“I was fine by Saturday afternoon. How were you?”

He shrugs. “Wasn’t that drunk.”

Yeah. Sure, Joel. Your fingers took the brunt of the alcohol.

He stands up, wanders around the table to join you. Your fingers begin to tremble at the thought of him so close. Your thighs heat.

“This all of it?” he asks. He’s closer than you thought.

“Y-yep. Some copies there, too, if anyone needs a spare.”

His hand slips up between your shoulder blades, patting you gently at the base of your neck.

“Good job, baby.”

You almost fucking shudder. Your stomach jolts, your chest tightens. The ache between your legs pangs, reminding you it’s there, even though you can’t fucking do anything about it.

You spin around, settling back against the table, ankles crossed. Tense.

“How long do you reckon it’ll go on?”

“No idea. Why? Somewhere you gotta be?”

You shake your head. “Just organizing lunch ‘n stuff for you.”

“That can wait until after.”

“I’ll have it ready for you comin’ out. Be easier.”

He steps forward. Your heart stutters.

“You’ll be in here with me.”

You cock your head. “Again? What– Why?”

“I need you in here. To take–”

“–minutes? Yeah, figured as much. You gonna have me up here all night again writing ‘em up?”

He smirks, dimples in his cheeks. There are two options here: either smack him, or jump his bones – he deserves the first and you deserve the latter.

“I like having you in my meetings, darlin’,” he says, as the door handle turns, “stops me wanting to blow my brains out.”

Martha enters and Joel slots in alongside you on the table. She sets a tray with a coffee pot and packets of sugar and milk on the sideboard.

Your head is fucking dizzy. There’s a ringing in your ears. Energy sparkling in waves from the tops of your thighs all through you. Joel’s shoulder brushing against yours, his eyes boring into the side of your face.

You won’t look at him. Won’t take your eyes off of Martha, laying paper coffee cups out in rows, her back to you guys.

Joel lays a palm flat on your thigh, rounding the curve until his hand is firm between your legs, threatening to push your skirt up. You feel his breath hot on your neck, his voice like honey in your ear.

“Makes for a nice view, too.”

You whip around to glare at him. He leans back, chuckling to himself.

Through gritted teeth, you whisper, “Can I talk to you? In private?”

Joel shrugs, excuses you both to Martha, and then follows at your heels out of the conference room and over to his office door. You waltz in without permission, shoving the door open and waiting for him to close it behind himself.

Joel’s office is bright, clean. Giant windows lining three walls, huge desk with an even bigger bookcase behind. Two black leather couches opposite, facing one another with a glass coffee table between. Soft white rugs, obnoxiously huge lampshades, small fern plants dotted here and there. You found and booked the interior designer for him, and not a day’s gone by since that you don’t remind him of how nice a job you did.

Today, though, you break that streak. You round on him as soon as he closes the tall, wooden door behind him.

“Will you fucking quit it?”

“Fucking quit what, baby?” He’s almost laughing, strolling around his desk and settling into his leather chair, leaning back. Casual. Fucking – arrogant.

You stammer, holding up a shaky finger. “Okay, first of all – that. Don’t call me baby, that’s not appropriate. Second – the teasing?”

“I don’t get it, you liked me callin’ you baby on Friday night.”

You take your bottom lip between your teeth and give him a furious stare. He holds his hands up.

“My mistake.”

You stalk over to the windows separating Joel’s office from the reception area. Martha’s still in the conference room, the door ajar. You haul the shades shut to give yourselves some privacy.

“Stop – fucking with me. Stop it. We were drunk on Friday night. It wasn’t– Stop.”

“’m not fucking with you.” He leans his head to scratch his eyebrow. He repeats it when you turn away, hands flying up in the air. “I’m not.”

“Let’s just forget Friday happened, can we do that?”

Wandering around Joel’s office isn’t doing anything to relieve the weight between your legs. If anything, it’s making it worse. You make your way back to his desk and place your hands down on the wood, leaning over.

“Wh…what’s next on the agenda?” you ask, almost panting, your eyes closing.

You hear Joel’s chair rock when his weight leaves it. His footsteps pad across soft carpet, around the desk. Nearing you. They come to a halt and you feel the air stop short, right behind you.

For someone not trying to fuck with you, he’s doing an awfully good job at it.

You surrender, leaning back, your shoulders making contact with his chest. Then his hands find your hips, light, gentle. No pressure on them, not until your ass presses against his crotch and your head tilts, allowing Joel to hook his chin over your shoulder.

He’s hard, under his pants. Against you. You can feel it, still, steady. Rock solid beneath four layers of clothing.

His hands lift from your waist and glide up your shirt front, your stomach tensing when they brush over it. They come to rest over your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples through your shirt. And you fucking let him; lifting your right arm to hook around his jaw and pull him closer into your neck, where his lips leave soft, wet marks.

It feels like the first gasp of fresh, sea air after being underwater. The first gulp of chilled water after a hike. The first wave of aircon in the car. It’s relief. It’s desperate, borderline orgasmic relief.

You grind your ass and Joel hums into your skin. He’s getting harder by the second, you’re getting wetter. It’s not enough, what you’re doing. You need more.

You lower your hand and cup him through his pants, taking hold of his bulge and massaging gently. His hips are moving, he’s rutting into your palm, both of you desperate to rid yourselves of the clothing separating your skin.

“I asked,” you breathe, “what’s next on the agenda?”

“Next,” Joel mumbles into your skin, “was thinkin’ I could bend you over this desk ‘n fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” you repeat, and he nods. You take a breath. “S-sounds good.”

Joel’s hands find the hem of your skirt and start to pull it up your legs, painfully slow, revealing more and more of your bare thighs as he goes. He’s rubbing them, massaging until your skirt sits on your hips, little black panties exposed. His hand comes down to cup you, fingers gently applying pressure to your clit through the lace.

You moan, finally being touched by him again, finally feeling his hands on you where you need it most. Already, he’s doing better, making you feel better than you could ever by yourself. Than you did, by yourself. Involuntarily, you breathe out, “Daddy…”

Joel’s fingers pick up the pace. He fucking loves it.

“That feel good, baby? Like it like that? Tell me how it feels.”

“So – fucking – good,” you whisper, legs parting more to grant him better access. He dips his hand lower, thumb staying planted on your lace-covered clit, fingers shifting the fabric under your entrance aside.

He toys with you first, middle finger swaying back and forth through your folds, collecting slick, spreading it around. Then, a second finger, pushing upward, dangerously close to entering you. You’re gasping, leaning into him, letting his strong form keep you upright.

“That’s my girl,” Joel’s whispering into your ear. “You ain’t gotta do nothin’, just enjoy.”

And then he pushes up, two thick, curled fingers entering your cunt in one motion. He has you down to his knuckles, limp against his chest, mouth wide open in a silent gasp. Your head rolls to the side to watch him as he feels you for the first time, and his expression mirrors yours.

“So fuckin’ wet, babygirl,” he whispers, lips on your forehead.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimper as his fingers press hard inside your soft pussy, starting to pump gently before picking up the pace and fucking you good.

The office is silent, save for your gasps and moans, and the wet sounds of Joel’s fingers in your cunt. He hums into your neck, thumb pressing hard against your clit, drawing tiny circles over the swollen bud.

It doesn’t take fucking long before you’re collapsing, walls clenching, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. It’s all that’s been on your mind for almost three days, all you’ve imagined, dreamt about, thought of.

Joel feels you, knows you’re close.

“Wanna cum all over daddy’s fingers, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you bite back a yelp, “so – close.”

“Know you are, baby. It’s okay, you can cum. Let me feel you.”

That coil, slowly winding since approximately nine-thirty on Friday night, not relieved by your hands, your toys, or your fucking pillows, snaps in one second. The tension breaks across your stomach. Your legs give; Joel’s free hand wraps around your waist to hold you upright.

You throw your head back against his shoulder again, jaw slack with a moan you know you can’t give voice to. Joel fucks you all the way through it, fingers coated in your cum only to dive straight back in, wetter and slicker than before.

There are stars in your vision. You can’t feel between your legs. The office is slowly blinking back into view, but Joel gives you no time to recover.

He pushes you face down onto his desk roughly, hastily, like someone’s about to wander through his door any second. One ear pressed to the cold wood, you hear his belt clink, feel the teeth of his zipper graze your thighs. Hear his deep breaths as he drags his pants and boxershorts down to free his cock.

You’ve never seen him, obviously. You’ve pictured it, dreamt up what it would look like with your fingers deep inside yourself. And from this angle you still don’t see it, but when the weight of it springs against your ass, when Joel lines himself up and his tip dips between your cum-covered folds, you fucking feel it.

His thick head pushing slightly into your entrance, coating him in your slick. He’s big. You moan at the time he’s taking to just shove into you; it’s probably seconds, but it feels like fucking hours.

“I hear ya, I know,” he’s saying, but your hearing’s starting to fade. Blood pumping through your head, white noise rattling against your eardrums.

He pushes in, length separating your clenched walls, entering your wet, warm cunt with a deep growl from Joel’s lips and a gasp from yours. You open up around him, swelling as he pushes deeper and deeper.

“So – fuckin’ – tight for me, baby,” he groans, hands on your hips pulling you back onto his length. “You feel that? Feel how tight you are?”

“Mhm,” you reply, the stretch of his thick cock burning and igniting you in flame. Your eyes screw shut as he keeps pushing, further than you ever thought anyone could, until his tip kisses your cervix and you whine.

“Quiet, babygirl,” he says, pausing and placing a steady hand on the small of your back. “We don’t need anyone out there knowin’ what we’re doin’.”

“So good, daddy,” you whimper quietly, and he knows. He fucking knows.

He begins to draw back, hips leaving your ass, cock pulling out of your pussy. Your eyes roll closed, missing him the more he withdraws. Before he’s fully gone, he snaps back inside, entering you harder, faster, deeper.

You gasp, knuckles whitening with the grip of your balled fists. You bend one arm, biting into your sleeve to stop your whimpers from slipping under the door.

A couple more thrusts and Joel’s fucking you. Hard. He’s fucking huge, so huge it blurs the edges of your vision every time his cock hits against your cervix. He’s almost fucking whimpering behind you, growling your name with every stroke, groaning each time he bottoms out inside you and your tight hole wraps around his length.

You can feel the edge of the table bruising your pelvis, and it feels so fucking good. Everything about this feels good. Joel’s cock stretching you out, his hands gripping you roughly, your own hands outstretched to hold onto the desk for some sort of stability.

The only thought going through your head, only words your lips can part to utter: daddy daddy daddy.

“Good girl,” Joel hums, your moans like music to his ears. “Good fuckin’ girl. Know how naughty you are for me?”

You smile. “Yeah, daddy.”

This is the filthiest thing you’ve ever fucking done. Sure, you love sex, especially when it’s rough. But nothing you’ve ever done with anyone else, nothing you’ve ever had done to you by anyone else, compares to being bent over your boss’s desk and fucked dumb by him.

Calling him daddy, corporate managers slowly filing into a conference room just outside. Only an unlocked door separating them from you, writhing and throbbing under Joel’s cock, his rough hands on your hips, your name passing his lips in breathy moans.

Is it wrong? Yes. Do you care? Fuck no.

You know he’s close; his thrusts become sloppy, hips start hammering against you.

“Where d’you want it, baby?” he grunts, skin slapping.

You’re on the pill, and if you answered honestly, you’d tell him to finish inside you. But you know that if he wanted to do that, he’d just fucking do it. Wouldn’t ask. And you’re not prepared to waste time arguing.

“My m-mouth.”

“C’mere.” Joel slips out of you with no effort, you’re so fucking soaked for him, and spins you around. A gentle hand on your shoulder, he pushes you onto your knees, free hand jacking his cock over you.

It’s the first time you see him, fist tugging up and down a thick, veiny shaft; swollen, reddened tip spilling precum which his thumb collects and drags down his length, gleaming with your wet.

On instinct, you push forward, one hand coming to rest on his thigh, the other taking over from his on his dick. You pump him a few times, and then open your mouth wide enough to take him all the way until he’s brushing the back of your throat.

With a choke, you begin bobbing your head up and down, cheeks hollow, breathing deep through your nose. Joel moans, head rolling back, hand coming to hold your hair in a fist. He drags you back and forth a few times before he begins to shudder and you draw back, holding him steady on your swollen bottom lip.

He looks down at you and your eyes lock as he cums all over your tongue. You moan as your mouth fills with his warm, salty load. When his cock stills and he stops spilling all over you, you lean back and close your mouth, licking your lips and swallowing him.

“Aw, babygirl,” he coos, stroking your hair. “Good job. Such a good girl for me.”

You both take a few seconds to catch your breath before Joel’s hands hook under your arms and he pulls you back up, letting you lean against his desk.

Still in a daze, you feel him tug your skirt back down, fix your shirt. Tuck your hair behind your ears, wipe either saliva or cum from your lips.

“Good?” he asks, and you lace your fingers in his.

Your breath is still shaky, but through a sigh, you say, “Good.”

He nods. “Can hear Ken out front, must all be arrivin’.” He pulls you over to the door.

His fingers wrap around the handle, free hand coming up to cup your cheek. He leans down and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth and let his tongue past, moaning into the wet, messy kiss.

Something in you almost wants to laugh, thinking about the fact you let him fuck you before you’d even kissed him.

When he pulls away, your hands take hold of his jaw, keeping him at your height.

“Have a good meeting,” you whisper, pecking him on the lips, “text me what you want for lunch.”

He growls, yanking the door open and passing by you, granting your wish to sit this one out. Something in you tells you not to wander far, though.

He’ll probably want to blow off some steam when he’s done.

----------

taglist: @earthtogrogu @serenaxpedro @brittmb115 @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo

[yourdarlingalina]

is it new years yet? | jack hughes

synopsis: y/n's new years kiss is the last person she expected, her former fuck buddy pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 2.7k warnings: slightly steamy, heavy making out, mentions of sex, a bit angsty, not properly proofread is it new years yet? - sabrina carpenter

What's the best way to forget about your fuck buddy who broke things off with you a week before Christmas? Who you definitely don't have feelings for and who definitely didn't find out about said feelings by accident?

From a responsible person's point of view, it was the correct decision. I fell for someone who just wanted no strings attached sex. He doesn't want a relationship, and it is supposed to save me from being hurt even worse in the future. But I am not a responsible person. A responsible person wouldn't have been talking about their feelings with friends when they knew that the person they had feelings for was also in the same bar.

Which is how I ended up in my current situation. A glass of champagne in one hand while the other holds onto a random guy's shoulder as we sway and grind to the upbeat tempo blasting through the club's speakers. The best way to get over a guy is to get under a new one, right? At least, that's what my friends were telling me as they convinced me to go out with them for New Year's Eve.

"Start the new year off with someone new."

And start the new year off with someone new I will. The guy in front of me is decent looking, he's no Jack but he'd do. His hands were at least doing all the right things, one gripping my hip to pull me closer as the other was pushing my hair out of the way of my neck so that he could leave sloppy open mouthed kisses to my skin. Hands roamed down my body as I brought the champagne flute closer to my lips, this night would require copious amounts of alcohol if I am to make it to midnight. He pawed his hands down from my hips to my ass, gripping and squeezing in ways that should be making me want to push my body harder against his. His mouth trailing from my neck down to cleavage, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh.

He was doing everything right to my body, but it just didn't feel right. I wanted it to be Jack who was brave enough to handle me this way in the middle of a crowded club, not ashamed to be seen with me, but it wasn't. He made it very clear that he only wanted me in private, with no one knowing that I was his on those nights and that he was mine, even if it was only for a short time. It was like he knew my body better than I did, knew what buttons to press to make me cry out his name. How he made me come undone again and again. The kisses that gave me full body shivers and touches that left my skin feeling like it was set alight.

I was not getting those feelings with the man attached to my body. He seemed like he'd be a great lover for a night, but not in the way I needed. Perhaps if I met him before everything, I could be happy with him but it felt like I had been ruined.

A party popper would end up becoming my hero of the night when one went off right next to my ear causing the glass in my hand to tumble down, splashing champagne on the man as it made its way down to shatter on the floor.

"Oh God! I am so sorry!" I profusely apologize as the man whose name I can't quite remember jumps away from me.

"It's alright, suppose I was gonna end up sticky tonight anyway. I'll be back." He shoots me a wink as he makes off in the direction of the bathrooms. I take the brief moment to escape to the bar, being careful to not slip on the alcohol or broken glass scattering the floor.

I push past the glitter and sweat coated bodies, pushing myself into a corner where I don't think my former dance partner will find me. One of the bartenders comes over to take my drink order not long after I get into my seat.

"What can I get for you?" The man asks quickly, obviously on the verge of losing it due to the new year's rush tonight.

"She'll have a vodka cranberry and I'll have a beer." A voice says from behind me, a voice I know extremely well. I didn't know he was going to be here tonight. Not a single person thought to mention that to me? The bartender makes a move to speak but the man behind me continues, "Brand doesn't matter, just whatever you have." The bartender just nods then scurries off to get our drinks.

I slowly turn on my stool to face him.

"Jack." I say, acknowledging him.

"y/n." He says back, sending shivers down my spine with just how he says my name. He moves closer, keeping me between the counter and his body. Leaning over his body almost touches mine, he keeps his eyes on me, his face getting closer, and for just a second I think he's about to kiss me, but his fingers wrap around the beer bottle that was placed on the counter and suddenly he's back where he was originally standing. "You seem to be having fun tonight."

"You've been watching me?" I blurt out before I could think. Instead, grabbing my drink, putting it to my mouth before I could say anything else.

"Hard not to when you're basically letting whoever that was fuck you in front of everyone." He bitterly spits out. He's jealous? He's not allowed to be jealous. He doesn't want me, I got that loud and clear.

"So? Why do you care?" His eyes snap to me. "I'm not yours, I never was." I break my eyes away from his, suddenly thinking about how interesting my drink looks. He smirks at my sudden movement, his fingers grip my chin and force me to look at him. His face is so close to mine again, I can feel his breath on my face, can smell the alcohol off his lips. He's intoxicating. I clench my thighs together at the small act. Even like this he still has so much power over me. I am undoubtedly his.

His eyes flick from my eyes down to my clenched thighs to my eyes again to the countdown clock behind me and finally back to my eyes. "Thirty minutes till midnight. Meet me on the balcony upstairs in fifteen?" He's asking but it comes out as more of a command.

"Why would I do that?" I push back. I can at least hold onto a little bit of my dignity during this. Can't I? Might be debatable.

"Because I made a mistake two weeks ago." He whispers against my lips. My eyes flutter shut, he's gone when I open them.

◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈   ◈

Fifteen minutes went by quicker than I would've liked for them to. I still haven't made up mind on if I should talk to him or not, but my body decided that I'd still go. I slowly made my way up, giving myself more time to collect my thoughts. I hadn't talked to him properly since that night.

It was a night out after a big win, Jack had invited me and some friends to go out with him and the team. Teasing remarks were thrown at me about how I look at Jack like I was in love. I never did hide my staring well. He had noticed too, how when he looked over at me, my eyes were already on him. Adoration was obvious in my eyes when they were on him. When I got quiet and didn't make any attempt to shoot down the accusations they all got loud. "You love Jack!" They shouted over and over. My cheeks flushed, embarrassment flooded up veins, I had to get away from it.

He heard. I turned to leave the group and he was behind me, eyes wide and jaw slack in shock. He was frozen, a deer in headlights. Me whispering his name snapped him out of his daze causing him to walk off in the opposite direction. I made the mistake of going after him.

"We said no strings attached." He said after the door slammed behind me, his back still facing me.

"I know." My words came out whispered, I was terrified of this. This was never meant to happen. Feelings were never supposed to happen. He was never supposed to find out that one of our few rules were broken.

"We can't continue like this." He finally turned and faced me. He showed no emotion, he was so goddamn hard to read. His blank facial expressions would be the bane of my existence.

"I know." I whispered again, the only words I could get out. I fucked up, by catching feelings, by continuing this when I knew I caught feelings. I tried to push them down and pretend that they didn't exist, but it just wasn't enough.

"I don't love you." I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears start to well up and not daring to let them have the chance of escaping. I knew how he felt, but hearing it was a completely different feeling.

"I know." I sobbed out. He was gone by the time I opened my eyes.

Here I was, yet again, going after him. I somehow made it to the top of the stairs and through the crowd of dancing bodies. There he was, standing on the balcony, leaning over the railing and looking out at the Hudson. I stood there for a good minute, just staring at him, debating on if it was even worth listening to him. Did he really make a mistake or was he just feeling guilty that he didn't reciprocate my feelings?

"What was the mistake?" I finally ask.

His head whips around so fast that I almost think that he's about to give himself whiplash. A small laugh like huff comes out as I walk further out onto the balcony.

"I almost thought you weren't gonna come." His voice is softer, careful, like he was actually scared of the thought that I wouldn't meet him. I look back at the countdown clock on the wall, ten minutes to midnight.

"I like to be fashionably late." He lets a small laugh escape at my comment. God, I love that sound.

"You always have." He turns away again, hands gripping the railing, knuckles turning white from the tension.

"You still haven't answered my question." I say, waiting for him to finally tell me what the mistake was. Was he regretting ending us or how he spoke to me?

"That night." He starts to say before cutting himself off, lips pursed into a thin line.

"Yes?" I nudge his leg with the tip of my heel. He looks at me, eyes scanning my face like he's trying to read my thoughts. Trying to get any idea of what I'm thinking.

"I lied to you." No. "I said I didn't love you." No. "I lied." No.

I should be wanting to hear this, but I don't. I never thought I'd be the type of person to run back to a man just because he gives me a pretty apology and I will not start now, especially when I know it's not true.

"You don't love me, you just miss the sex. Don't worry, you'll find someone else to suck your dick." I move to walk away before I feel this hand come up to grip my arm. He was not going to make this easy for me. All I want to do is go home and crawl under my blankets, forget that all of this even happened in the first place.

"Please, just hear me out." I turn my head to look at him and goddamn those eyes that make me want to melt. He's looking at me so sweetly, I've never seen him look at anyone like this.

"Make it quick." I brush off his hand and lean back towards the railing.

"Oh come on, you know I don't do quickies." He attempts to make a joke, a playful smile pulling on his lips. It quickly fades though as he get serious again. "I broke our rule before we even made it." My head snaps up at his words. What?

"I loved you before we slept together that first time." He can't be telling me the truth. No, our first night together was a drunken mess that was just meant to be a one night stand. The relationship that came after was just mutually beneficial, he didn't have to worry about someone running to the tabloids and I got someone who touched me in a way I didn't think was possible.

"Stop lying to me." I choke out. I don't need a pity confession from him, especially when I just want to leave him behind next year which is in, I quickly check the clock, three minutes.

"I'm not!" He counters back just as the words leave my mouth.

"If you loved me you wouldn't have reacted like that." My eyes are brimming with tears, this is not how I wanted my night to go. I just wanted to find a new guy to kiss at midnight to make me forget about Jack.

"I never thought you'd feel the same." How he could think that is astounding. I don't think he realizes just how magnetic he is, and not just because he's Jack Hughes, hockey star. No, he was much more than that. A good friend, a shoulder to lean on, someone that listens when you really need it, a respectful person who makes you feel like you're floating when his attention is on you. "I'm not good at expressing my emotions."

"Yeah, no shit!" I nearly scream at him. "What do you expect me to do with this?"

"I want to start fresh next year." He admits, his eyes lock back onto mine. "If you gave me another chance, I promise, I won't fuck it up again." He's not lying, he's being genuine. I can see it written all over his face, the softening of his eyes, the breaking down of his walls. He's having a hard time even attempting to be vulnerable about this.

The shouting from the party starts to get louder. "Ten!" Maybe I should give him another chance. "Nine!" If I get hurt again then it's on me. "Eight!" He is who I want to be with. "Seven!" Why not? Is this not what I wanted just hours ago? "Six!"

"Kiss me." I tell him.

"Five!"

"What?" He sputters out.

"Four!"

"You heard me." I say, giving him a soft smile so that he knows I truly mean it.

"Three!" He shifts his body to be parallel mine. "Two!" His hands cup my cheeks. "One!" His lips meet mine as literal fireworks go off. "Happy New Year!" People shout around us. But my mind is just on him. As he's pulling me as close as humanly possible but it's still not enough.

My hands snake up with his abdomen, fingers gripping at anything they can. His hands move to my hair, to my neck, down my chest, caressing softly down to my hips, pulling and pleading to get as close as possible. My body was being set alight, the familiar feeling I've been yearning for. He's pulling sounds out from me that I've never made before. It's from the feeling that he's fully mine now, no hesitancy in his movements, he's confident and proud in what he's doing. 

My fingers move up to curl around strands of his hair, pulling his face fully flush to mine, lips melding and moving against each other at a fiery pace. We break away unfortunately to catch our breath, our smiling faces still touching, neither one of us making an attempt to move farther away. In fact, he's nuzzling his face even closer into mine, if that was even possible.

"What are you going to do with me now?" I ask against his lips, looking up into those beautiful, mind melting, ocean like eyes.

"Start the year off right, by apologizing in so many ways." He says then capturing my lips again before dragging me through the crowd of bodies, down the stairs, and out of the door.

#alina writes #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #new jersey devils #nhl imagine

[kisakis-boyfriend]

In the animal kingdom, typically the male birds are the ones who are super colorful and do complicated mating rituals such as singing, dance, or gift giving to attract a mate. Since Xiao is a bird type illuminated beast, could you do hcs about what kind of dramatic things he would do to seduce the reader? I wanna see his serious self wearing the gaudiest outfit ever while break dancing lmao

Pairings: Xiao x reader

Warnings: GN!reader, courting rituals, tiny bit of angst

Genre/Format: Fluff; Headcannons

Author's Note: I was today years old when I found out that Xiao is a sort of bird-like creature 😶 Anyways yeah! Hope these are to your liking~

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

I cannot picture Xiao ever breakdancing lol. But! I think he would perform some sort of traditional dance to impress a potential partner.

If you recall the end of Ayaka's story quest (I think?) I'm picturing something very similar; albeit a traditional Chinese dance. Something truly breathtaking and emotional.

Xiao has trouble expressing his feelings and emotions, as well as even understanding human emotions in the first place...but he would still try to convey how he feels about you through song and dance.

Reluctantly, the adeptus may even ask his good pal Venti for a bit of help. Maybe the anemo archon would be generous enough to play the flute or lyre while Xiao courts you?

I also think Xiao is the type to want every detail to be perfect. Elaborate, but not entirely over the top.

A specific location where the scenery is gorgeous; the breeze passes through, the moon shines down on his graceful body as it moves and flows to the music, maybe some leaves fall around him? Or perhaps some aromatic petals?

Of course he's going to wear the most beautiful ensemble during his performance as well. Some sort of hanfu, or hanfu-inspired clothing that flows like the wind.

Xiao is also the type to bring you little gifts in an attempt to court you. He is quite perceptive and can pick up on the things that interest you easily.

A bracelet crafted from crystalfly cores and noctilucous jade. A bookmark made of pressed qingxin flowers. A wonderful blend of tea that Xiao created himself (with a bit of help from Zhongli, of course)

I can definitely picture the adeptus flaunting his strength oh so casually in front of/around you.

He's not the type of guy to flex his biceps for you to squeeze (unless you really want to? Then maaaybe he can make an exception...just this once...just for you)

Though he will jump in to 'rescue' you. By this I mean that he will rescue you from a tiny cut while you're cooking. Not even bad enough to need a bandage, just a small knick.

Xiao will appear next to you ready to whisk you off to the hospital or something...you have to firmly decline and remind him that you're not made of glass. 😐

The sweetie means well, he's just overly protective of the person that he desires spending the rest of his life with 💕

#my writing #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #xiao #xiao fluff #xiao x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #fluffy #fluff headcanons #headcannons #requested #xiao x you #genshin x you

[greycaelum]

Hi ! It's me again, I just wanted to add that I think you're absolutely amazing. Your writing is perfect, and out of all the stories I've read about Satoru, I feel like you have the best interpretation of him, and you do a great job of conveying that in your writing. That's why I wanted to thank you for taking us on a journey and allowing us to escape into a world with Satoru!

I also wanted to make a small request, but of course you can ignore this part if you don't feel like it! The Kaleidoscope series is by far my favorite, and I wanted to see Satoru's wife be a little jealous...he's such a simp for her, and only has eyes for her, so she never has to worry about anything, and I love that, but why not have a little turn of events with lots of fluff.

Thank you!

- Machi ⭐️

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Territorial }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Genre: fluff, a lil' wifezilla moment with y/n

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.1k)— champagne moments, homewrecker alert, PDA *in capital letters

𑁍 A/N: midterms put the nail to my coffin, but here's a glass of bubbly to that~🥂

Your husband without question is a fine-looking man. Too fine sometimes. But you could never count how many times girls bat lashes in his direction or even try to snag your man away with their sultry clothes almost showing their souls to him.

Your reaction?

Well, normal.

If you were a jealous woman having Satoru as your man is a big no, no. He catches too much attention for his own good. Both by males at work and girls at the sides.

But it never roused an extensive feeling of jealousy or envy in your side. Albeit after years of being with him that is. Others may call it arrogance or simply the steeled assurance between the two of you... But you've never been put in a critical position where you have the urgency of stating your claim over Satoru. They could kneel and lay down his feet but only you can touch your man.

You sip the champagne served for you at tonight's gala. It's an annual social gathering held by the prime minister for the Jujutsu clans. And the Gojo Clan being at the top of the Three Great Families of the Jujutsu society, you must attend for the formalities or whatnots.

What a bore...

Satoru's attitude must have rubbed on you for finding the opulent hall, with glitters and dazzle to be such a stifling event. Your eyes roamed around and found nothing worth noting except for the chocolate fountain Saika would've gone crazy about if she was here.

On the other hand, Satoru is crowded by both men and women. His mere height makes it hard not to spot him in the room. Not to add the newly tailored montsuki you had for him makes him eye-catching.

You had to ask him to let you sit after standing and greeting other attendees for so long. Now you're here sitting on the corner, catching your poise while passing boredom with your glass of bubbly.

Satoru is holding a glass of his extra extra sweet non-alcohol mocktail. Judging by the frequent sarcasm in his words and scrunched of his nose he will come to you and ask to go home before half an hour from now.

That was what you supposed until a younger lady came forward and started talking directly to Satoru ignoring the people around her as she laughed obnoxiously for your liking.

Call it a woman's instinct when you easily narrow to the side of your eyes as she tries to bend a little lower exposing a bit of her cleavage. Satoru didn't react much and continued talking anyway.

You don't know the girl's family background but from her flashy appearance, diamonds sparkling on her, you could surmise that she came from an influential family enough to be personally invited by the prime minister. She's too... gaudy.

It was only when she tried to offer another glass of champagne to Satoru by grabbing onto his arms and pushing the flute towards Satoru that your brow raised. She wasn't able to touch him because of Satoru's Infinity but it still counts as something uncomfortable for a lady to do with a married man.

People never really learned... It's funny seeing them try so hard, but there should be a limit to it.

Satoru's temple creased as well. But he wasn't able to do anything more when a hand grabbed the flute of the champagne being shoved toward him and a familiar sweet jasmine scent filled his nostrils. The sound of your zori heels against the marble floor broke the awkward atmosphere.

You took the flute from the surprised and confused girl and leisurely sipped the liquor before turning to whisper something to Satoru's ear but your eyes never left the girl. His Infinity dissolved the second you held on to his elbow.

"Hey Baby," Satoru hummed with a bright smile on his lips.

"She's. Annoying. Me." You punctuated the word before baring your teeth and sinking them in his enticing earlobe you only let go when you heard a subtle needy whine from your husband. An arm immediately wrapped on the back of your waist to steady you. Satoru mumbled an incoherent phrase as you hummed back in reply.

The small group was stunned and at the same time flushed at the sudden move from your side. You simply smiled and surveyed your eyes on the people, your eyes took their time to watch the young lady with a scowl on her face.

"My husband is non-alcoholic, I will take this drink for him." You downed the flute of bubbles in one go before giving the passing server the empty glass and bending a little to whisper in the young lady's ear.

There's a glint in your eyes that made everyone look away and slowly withdraw to scatter around the hall.

"There's a thin line between brave and stupid." You stood back straight and softly smiled. "Which one are you, little girl?"

She better thank whatever devil possessed you to drink a lot tonight that you're feeling a little too tipsy to argue. An arm snaked at the back of your waist whilst a hand landed on your hips to steady you.

Like a pup with its tail tucked between her legs, she turned her heel, flushed cheeks, and hunched shoulders as she walked to the other side of the banquet.

You rolled your eyes and looked for the nearest seat but a firm grip on your hips reminded you of the towering man holding you upright.

"Loved your little show~" Satoru chuckled as he tilted your dazed face higher so you could stare into his enthralling blue orbs. "My pretty, pretty Baby, so territorial over me, huh?"

You weren't able to answer back as he took your lips for a quick and sweet kiss, in the midst of the crowd, you both stood there. Him, with a victorious and satisfied smirk, and you, tipsy and in a stupor of the outward display of affection.

The crowd turned away, some gasped, some looked scandalized, and some were grinning ear to ear. Satoru and his penchant for lack of decorum is shining so brightly.

You're not teens anymore, you're both married for more or less 10 years, but damn this sweet man for never failing in drawing you in his touch. You gripped his haori. What's worse is you cannot bring your lips to protest.

Satoru sensed this and finally guided you away from the crowd, only after he kissed your temples one more time.

"My Mrs. Gojo." Satoru grinned.

Maybe you never needed to do this little stunt but for some reason this small pettiness makes your heart beat like a teenager head over heels for Satoru... What's more, is that—

That ought to teach them where he belongs.

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld @loml-riri @pelicanpizza @emichou-chan

#kaleidoscope series #c&mchapters #jjk married gojo fluff #married gojo fluff #married gojo satoru #gojo satoru x wife reader #husband gojo x wife reader #jjk gojo fluff #gojo fluff #gojo x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x yn #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #jjk dad gojo satoru #gojo clan

[ronearoundblindly]

Midnight Kiss

Steve Rogers x reader

Just a little ditty in honor of the upcoming holiday. Warnings for suggestive language and bad puns. It's just cute, awkward, and chivalrous...until it isn't. If you couldn't deduce it from the title: they kiss lol. WC 1.5k+

He's happy to see the team having fun, but this isn't exactly Steve's 'scene.' Granted, his 'scene' flew the coop long ago, when his generation aged out of large, raucous celebrations, or rather, Steve never had any true social scene because he never really lived .

He's still trying, he swears; it's just...

really. damn. loud.

The lights are somehow too dim and too bright all at once. Everyone is happy and blitzed and dressed to the nines and leaning on the closest stable object. Any minute now, he'll bow out and call it a--

There's an ear-piercing cackle from a woman in a '2024' gold-streamered headband not two yards to his right, and she tips backwards, shoving an innocent passerby straight into his solid side.

"Sorry," you squeak, rolling your eyes because the word wasn't loud enough to shame the drunk woman beside you, but you're facing him, too, unable to see she's about to make it worse.

The woman snorts and laughs harder, toppling over because her party of friends have the reaction time of sloths, their hands full of dainty champagne flutes and mini-snacks.

Steve instinctively pulls you out of the way, his broad, strong arm wrapping your waist and pinning you to him.

"Oof," you grunt in alarm, the woman's drink spilling over your shoulder.

Hors d'oeuvres, Steve thinks sullenly, that's what people call them these days.

The woman doesn't apologize, and neither do her friends.

He counts a full five seconds before anyone in the small group even raises a hand to help the woman still giggling on the floor. Mostly, Steve is now concerned with the glass shards near your feet.

He's all for having fun, he's all for letting off a little steam, but he is not a fan of sloppiness. That's not a generational trait; that's simple courtesy.

"Ok, 'nough of this," he mutters, an itchy irritation scurrying up his body while he tries not to take over care of the woman. Instead, he checks your legs with a glance, sees the open toes of your strappy sandals, and hoists you into his arms.

He walks away from the bar, sound of crunching fading with each step, and finds a tiny bench--the only spot not occupied--where he can set you down.

Steve can't hear your shock or protest because his blood races past his ears. That was the last straw. He's annoyed now.

"Stay there," he commands, putting up a finger that gets shockingly close to touching your lips since you leaned in to speak. "I'm getting some napkins."

The bartender is oblivious, and why should he not be? The man is one of two serving over a hundred guests, give or take, for hours and hours. Steve doesn't bother getting his attention. He stretches a long arm over the bar top and grabs a stack of cocktail napkins.

It might as well be toilet paper.

He dabs and dabs at the sleeve of your dress, but the napkins dissolve and turn to damp pills. In his day, those results would make excellent spitballs to pass the time in class. They aren't so trendy on your black velvet.

"I thought this would work." He doesn't know what else to do but keep dabbing, so he anxiously continues, not noticing the precarious proximity to your chest until you put a hand on his.

You have kind eyes, he thinks, even though he can't fully make out their color in the mood lighting.

"Please, don't--" finally one of the woman's group yells over a quick sorry "--don't bother with that," you finish. "It's just a dress. You can go back to your people, Captain."

He scrunches his brow. He sometimes wants to introduce himself; he wouldn't always use his rank, but he rarely gets that luxury. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Was heading out anyway. I'll just sit a sec and then leave."

Sounds like the highlight of my night--leaving.

Instead, Steve stands to his full height and scans the busy room for any of his team. He shrugs to himself since, who's he kidding, no one will miss him if he disappears early. He's put in the appearance. He's made enough small drunk talk. Yikes, does he wish alcohol still affected him...

"I'll walk you out," he offers, careful to modulating his volume when one song abruptly ends and another starts lower.

At first, you don't take his hand, and your first two steps seem sturdy.

Then your weight crumples after a deep hiss.

Steve has you back up and carried to the bathroom in a flash. It's lit so he can actually see and muffled so he can actually hear, thank goodness.

Glass did sneak into your shoe, and it easily poked through the ball of your foot. He's so quick to find it that not one whole drop of blood has even eased out of the wound by the time he's pulling the shard out. His bare hands pinch the sizable chunk.

He's careful, slow, and gentle. He's also a touch proud that you make very little fuss, only squirming in discomfort while he works.

"All better," he says, dropping the glass into the trash bin. "We'll just wash it and...you alright?"

You're already pushing yourself off the counter top.

"You shouldn't put weight on it yet." Steve gingerly lifts your leg at the knee to keep the foot from touching the bare tile floor.

"Yeah, but--" you make a face "--you set me down in water."

Steve's eyes bug out. "I--oh gosh--so sorry, I--let me--" there are no paper towels, only an air dryer "--shit."

Defeated by modernity again, he sighs. "I just...I can get more napkins and maybe a first aid kit from--"

The crowd outside is starting to yell. They're counting, backwards, and there's no way anyone will understand what he's asking for in that chaos.

"Ten!"

Steve meets your eyes.

"Nine!"

He can see their full color now and that your dress isn't black. It's a very, very dark maroon velvet. Wetness is easily visible though, since your sleeve seems fully black at the shoulder.

"Eight!"

He points to the door. "Somebody I can get for you?"

You shake your head.

Not that he was fishing for your relationships status, but he's encouraged nonetheless.

"Seven!"

"Only me," you shrug, "braving the party for a thrill..."

"Same."

"Six!"

"How was the year?" he cracks with a smile.

You tilt your head. He's distracted by the cute gesture.

"Five!"

He stares.

"Four!"

"Not great," you admit.

Steve thinks while he stares.

"Three!"

Actually, no, that's a lie. He doesn't think; he just acts.

"Tw--"

He swoops in, big palms cradling each side of your face, soft lips pressed to yours for just an instant, but only because he wants more.

Unless tortured, Steve Rogers will never admit that he didn't plan for one instant where his tongue was not involved. He absolutely wants to taste you. He absolutely wants to own you, just for these few seconds. He absolutely wants to hear you moan in encouragement, the sound crystal clear in isolation from the party.

The roar of the crowd is soft static compared to that racing blood of his.

He pushes himself closer, his bent arms getting in his way, so Steve props up with a palm on the--oh wow, that is wet--counter. His thumb touches the soggy velvet covering your hip and thigh.

He'll buy you a whole new dress if only you lace your fingers in his hair, if only you take his bottom lip between your teeth, if only you whine just like that again.

By 'again,' he means in a few seconds, and maybe tomorrow, and, for good measure, whenever after that.

A loud thud on the door knocks him out of his lip-lock trance. It's not a single restroom, so he suspects another overly inebriated patron since no one comes through the door.

But now some sense is knocked into him, too.

He chews on his swollen lips for a moment, nervous to look up. He hopes you don't regret it, and he hopes you know that he does not, can not, and will never regret that kiss.

Your sated sigh breaks the tension after a beat. "Starting this year off right," you mutter, "at least for me..."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, glancing at the door before finally taking in your lounging form, "the gang is gonna love how I ended up in a ladies' bathroom at the stroke of midnight, necking a stranger."

You snort.

"Don't leave out the part where I was wet for you, head to toe, huh?"

Too bad the florescent lights are bright enough to show his raging red blush, but he clears his throat with a deep growl.

"They'll never believe me..."

Steve sweeps you up into his arms again.

"...unless I take you as proof...and to get a bandage, of course."

You snatch up your shoe and purse, but he won't let this Cinderella run off. You'll be right here against him all night.

"Well, go ahead and splash my other shoulder," you tease. "I can't be lop-sided."

Steve grins, already adding more and more things to list of what he'll do for you, to you, and with you. The list can include parties, too, if this is how wonderfully sweet and silly they can all be.

Happy New Year, indeed...

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp (My taglists are all jacked up again, so if you are missing from the list and/or want to be tagged, please let me know!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

[redocity]

ooo what about buck & reader at maddie and chimney's wedding and buck's trying to coax reader into dancing but they're a lil shy and it's soft and cute and you can decide whether they're already together or not!!

TAKE MY HAND - E.BUCKLEY

buck has an inherent knack for involving you in absolutely everything even if you’re happy to sit on the sidelines, and sometimes you question whether it’s just coming from a place of friendship.

WARNINGS: alcohol, swearing

evan buckley x gn!reader || fluff || 1.7k || requests open!

a/n: now this is what i’m talking about 🤭 thanks for the request ml <33

₊ ⊹ masterlist!!

The porch light you’re sat under serves as both your respite and your downfall.

It’s strong enough to light your phone screen and make your prosecco glitter in a way that makes your tipsy brain extremely satisfied, but it also lights you up like a glowstick as you avoid the terrace turned dance-floor like the plague.

You’re more than content to sit with your sparkly drink and watch as the rest of the team joke and dance under Maddie and Chimney’s lead, their house transformed into the perfect reception party venue with the help of Hen and Buck’s manual labour.

It really was something to celebrate, two people you’d come to consider as family being joint together under an eternal promise of love and sole devotion to each other.

But apparently your form of celebrating wasn’t ‘celebratory’ enough for a certain someone.

“Come on, time to dance,” Buck plucks the flute glass from your palm, replacing it with his left hand instead to pull you to your feet.

“Oh no I’m good-” You shake your head with a small laugh as you tug a resistance against his hand, intent on remaining firmly sat in your chair.

It did not matter how much you’d had to drink, the idea of dancing in front of a group of people, your honorary family or not, made you want to dig yourself an early grave.

“Come on, we’re at a wedding reception, we’ve gotta dance,” Buck had decidedly had at least a few more drinks than you had, although you’re sure you’d be in a similar situation even if he was stone cold sober.

He always made an effort to include absolutely everyone, which mostly meant you.

Actually it always meant you.

It wasn’t like you were being left out or anything, you just didn’t have the outgoing nature of the rest of your team when it came to being out of the fire station, which often left you in your own little bubble off to the sidelines.

It wasn’t like you weren’t content with that either, and that was something that Buck knew.

But he still made an effort to get you directly involved anyway.

Buck’s gotta Buck you suppose.

He gives a soft tug on your hand to try and prompt you to stand again, and you give it another bout of resistance with your lips pressed into an awkward line. “You can go and dance if you want,”

“No no,” Buck takes it upon himself to finish your glass by tipping the whole thing into his mouth, to which to gesture outwards in mild exasperation. “We are going to dance,”

“I am not drunk enough to dance in front of a group of people, and you just downed the possibility of that happening,” You shake your head in feigned disapproval as he puts the glass back down on the table, and he mirrors it himself, completely undeterred.

“We can get you another drink,” He gives your hand another tug, a little harder this time, his usual boisterous behaviour only amplified under the low buzz from his alcohol consumption. “You gotta have fun,”

“I am having fun,” You allow him to pull you to your feet this time, making a show of exaggeratedly sighing as you meet his eyes with your own.

“Not enough fun in my opinion,” Once you’re standing upright, he takes it as an open invitation to pull you onto the makeshift dance-floor, taking both of your hands in his own to ensure that you don’t try to slip away on the way there.

It’s innocent enough, and not exactly revolutionary in the land of Evan Buckley’s casual affection, but under your slightly alcohol-induced haze, the brushing of his fingers against your palms makes a warm feeling shoot up your arms and settle in your chest.

“I don’t even know how to dance-” Your tone comes off as mildly self-deprecating, something that Buck does not take lightly as he wedges the two of you into a small area that hasn’t yet been taken over by your drunken coworkers as they sway and jump around to the pop-rock song playing in the background.

“Dancing is subjective,” The way he furrows his eyebrows suggests that he’s offended at you even suggesting that you’re not good at something like being able to dance, and he tugs and pushes at your arms gently in alternation to put the two of you into a rhythm that matches the beat of the song. “As long as you are having fun, it doesn’t matter what you look like,”

The motion is enough to break a small smile onto your face, a short chuckle escaping your mouth as you entertain his musings by returning the push and pull motion of his arms with your own.

“Plus,” He bends his elbows to bring himself a little closer to you, leaning to speak against your ear over the music. “I think everyone’s too drunk to tell you have sloppy dance moves,”

“Hey-” You open your mouth in feigned astoundment, a sharp laugh joining the gasp that leaves your mouth.

“You’re so stiff,” Buck finds great enjoyment in laughing at your inherent lack of ‘grace’ when it comes to dancing, his hands sliding up your forearms to hold your elbows and try to loosen up your joints by massaging his fingers into your skin. “Relax,”

“You are way too excited,”

“My sister just got married to one of my closest friends, of course I’m excited,” Buck tilts his head to the side slightly, the warm overhead lighting hitting his eyes in a way that makes them look like he’s standing in front of a sunset.

“And you’re also completely shitfaced,” You can’t say much considering the four glasses of prosecco you’d had yourself, but you could just tell that Buck was going to have a hangover tomorrow.

“So?” He tilts his head downwards ever so slightly. “I’m having fun, drinking, eating good food, dancing with my best friend, just— soaking up the good vibes you know?”

You can’t really argue with that.

“Uh huh, right,”

“I am right,” Buck gives you that over-confident smirk, the one that’s become his trademark, and the one that has so much more of an effect on you right now than it ever has before this moment in time*. “All just good vibes*,”

You can hear the song fade out underneath Buck’s rebuttal, with the next song being remarkably more calm although still just as bright as the one before it.

“Here’s what I’m talking about,” Buck gives a nod in satisfaction at the new tune. “Let’s teach you how to dance,”

“What?” The word leaves your mouth more as a laugh than a question, and it’s like Buck ignores you completely as he lays your hands onto his shoulders and slides his down to rest gently against your sides, right over your ribcage.

It truly was remarkable how he was always so gentle despite himself, and it was not helping the way you were already perceiving him tonight.

“Now, dancing is really just swaying if you think about it,” He uses his hands like an example for his conclusion as he guides your movements with them, literally swaying your weight between your feet as he mirrors you in doing the same. “That simple,”

He chuckles like he’s just told you some revolutionary secret. and you honestly can’t be sure whether it’s the alcohol talking or just Buck being himself.

Either way, it’s enough for him to break out into a soft smile, one that washes over his features like waves on the shore and settle into his muscles like water into sand. “See? You’re doing great,”

“I’m not doing anything,”

“Sure you are, you’re letting me push you out of your comfort zone,” He tilts his head forward towards you a little, smile ever present on his face. “That’s something,”

You let out a small breath, lowering your head to rest it against his shoulder momentarily. “Whatever you say,”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” His eyes chase yours for contact once you pull back enough that he can see your whole face again. “You should let me do this more often,”

“How about no?”

“You know you can’t resist me,” Buck chuckles at your denial. “I always get you in the end,”

“I suppose you do,” You let your head tilt to the side as your expression slowly mirrors his in the content smile you have washing over your face. “Maybe I’m just a pushover,”

“Or maybe,” He leans forward a little, halting your swaying for a second so he can put emphasis on his words. “You just like spending time with me like this,”

“That too I guess,”

Buck chuckles at your response, something you reciprocate yourself as you rest your head against the curve of his shoulder once more with a sigh.

He was right. Dancing is fun. Although probably only because he was the one you were dancing with.

Either way, you knew you were going to be leaving this reception party wondering exactly what you meant to Buck, and more importantly, what he meant to you.

But right now, all you needed to focus on was the gentle pressure of his fingertips against your sides and the gratified look in his eyes.

Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

#9 1 1 #9 1 1 fanfiction #buck x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley fluff #oliver stark #asks 🚒

[astralaffairs]

hi!! before i go i jus wanna say, I love your work 🙏🏽 and I finally watch hamilton last night so I might write for it as well 😋😋 but i have a drabble idea.

anyways— thomas having a dance/ball for a campaign during the election and he meets aaron’s little sister, mc, who snuck in. and he can’t help but take interests in her.

“Now, what’s a lady like you doin’ getting a drink just for yourself? Nobody’s offered to do that for you yet?”

Y/N froze as her fingers met the stem of the champagne flute. She had promised herself she would stay to the outskirts of the ball, and her only goal for the night had been to avoid courting attention. However, the packed room was warm, and it was only more so at its perimeter under the lights, and the crisp bubbly had looked oh-so-inviting.

She turned with a polite smile as she picked up the glass, but her eyes widened when she saw the man behind her with his gleaming smile and his velvet suit. She recognized him instantly; after all, she’d seen him before, and he’d even been in her home, but they’d never formally met. He raised an eyebrow when her smile faltered. “I’ve only just arrived. I haven’t had a chance to speak to much of anyone just yet.”

“Then I’m gonna have to count myself lucky to have found you when I did. Thomas Jefferson.” He offered her a hand as he introduced himself, and when she took it, he dipped down to press a soft kiss to her knuckles. Her eyes went even wider.

She cleared her throat as he drew himself back up to his full height, still holding her by the fingertips, and it took a moment for it to occur to her to withdraw her hand. “You’re the host of this ball, then, if I’m not mistaken. Thank you for opening your home to us like this.”

“Believe me, sugar, the pleasure’s all mine,” he said. “Who’re you here with? Feel like I’ve seen you around, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Oh, um, my family’s here somewhere. I came on my own, though, and I was planning to meet them here.”

“Your family?” He pursed his lips. “You’re not a Schuyler, are you?”

“No, no, certainly not,” she replied before hastily adding, “although the Schuylers are lovely people, of course. To be a part of their family would make one lucky.”

“So you know the Schuylers, then?” he mused, and she nodded. His growing smile was making her mouth go dry. “I know where I recognize you from; you’re a Burr, aren’t you? Aaron’s sister?”

“I am, yes.” Her smile was tense, laced with unease. His grin was bright as he plucked a drink for himself off of the table behind them.

“So why haven’t I seen you at one of these before? Your family trying to keep you locked away from all the politics?” he asked, and as her eyebrows fell, he could see the look in her eyes sour.

“They’ve decided I can’t be trusted at this kind of event,” she said bitterly, and he quirked a brow. “Aaron claims he’s afraid I’ll say the wrong thing and jeopardize his career, but really, I think he just can’t deal with the idea of splitting people’s attention between us.”

“But you finally proved yourself trustworthy?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his drink, and she shrugged uncomfortably.

“I suppose so.”

“Then where’s your dear brother now, hm? Why aren’t you here with the rest of your family?” He watched her expectantly, and when she didn’t answer right away, his grin broadened. “They don’t even know you’re here, do they?”

“No, and you’re not going to be the one to tell them,” she said sharply, pointing her champagne flute at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused by the fervor in her tone. “I had to walk miles alone in the dark to get here; I am not being thrown out as soon as I arrive.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you’re not with them, then really, I should be sendin’ you on your way.” Despite the threat, his voice was breezy, and she frowned.

“And what do you have to gain from kicking me out?”

“The respect and appreciation of your family,” he suggested blithely. “The knowledge that I’m not leavin’ a young lady to walk home alone ‘n vulnerable at the end of the night. ‘S just the right thing to do, really.”

She eyed his small smile for a moment before slowly asking, “But despite that, you’d rather I stay, wouldn’t you?” He shrugged unabashedly. “You’re quite shameless, aren’t you, Mr. Jefferson?”

“Only on a good day.” He winked as he took a sip of his drink. “After all, you went through all that effort to get here. There’s gotta be a good reason for it, huh?”

“Of course. I’m here to expand my mind just like everyone else," she said, and he raised an eyebrow.

“And not for the charming future president we’ve got roaming the ball?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was one. Let me know if you see him?”

His full laugh proved him undeterred, and Y/N’s self-satisfied smile was reluctant. "'M glad to see you inherited more of the family wit than your brother seemed to."

"Please, don't tell him that. A lady needs to keep some things a secret."

"It'll stay between us, then," Thomas said, "but I don't think I ever got your name."

"Why, so you know whose presence to report to my brother?"

"So I know who to ask after the next time I see him." His response was quick, and it had Y/N on her heels. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised, but when she opened her mouth to answer—

"Y/N." Both she and Thomas turned on their heels at the loud voice to find her brother striding across the room toward them, and her groan was unchecked. The fury in Aaron's voice was barely contained. "What in the world do you think you're possibly doing here, sneaking out after dark? How did you even get here?"

"I brought myself, since nobody else was willing to take me," she bit back, and Thomas raised his eyebrows as he took a sip of his drink.

"That wasn't your decision to make," Aaron snapped. "We are a family, and you have to respect that—"

"Respect what? That you have total control over my life in the name of family values? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" she asked. "I respect that you have a career and a reputation to maintain, but I am a person, and—"

"And nothing, Y/N. Put the drink down, and leave Mr. Jefferson at peace," he demanded, and Y/N narrowed her eyes, her jaw set. Aaron turned to Thomas, and much of the fire in his voice had subsided when he said, "I'm sorry for her intrusion, Thomas. We didn't know she had followed us here, and we'll send her home at once."

"Now, Aaron, what makes you think she's uninvited company?" Thomas asked, and both Y/N's and Aaron's brows were raised. "Y/N's my guest here this evening; 's the opposite of an intrusion."

He frowned, glancing between Thomas and Y/N. "You mean you're responsible for her presence here tonight?"

"Well, I invited her, so I suppose you could say that," he said casually, and if he winked when he caught Y/N's eye, Aaron didn't think anything of it. Aaron's lips were pursed and his shoulders tense as he glanced between them.

"Why didn't you tell me Thomas had invited you?" he asked Y/N, and she shrugged.

"I didn't think you'd want to hear it, and I didn't want you trying to prevent me from coming."

"If I'd known he asked you to come—"

"So, what, my personhood is dependent on his permission now?"

"Your presence here is, at least."

"As a Burr, I would've been welcome either way."

"Not unattended, however."

"I can attend to myself just fine."

"You know that isn't what I mean when—"

"Aaron, was there somethin' else you needed?" Thomas cut him off, and Aaron's gaze was affronted when it snapped to him. However, he held his tongue. "I was just about to ask Y/N to dance, assuming that's her decision to make 'n all."

Y/N had to bite back her smile at his words, and although Aaron seemed to recognize the challenge in them as his jaw ticked, he said, "Of course. I'm sorry to have interrupted."

"Don't sweat it. Your concern for your sister is awful sweet, even if it isn't needed here," Thomas responded, his smile warm.

"'Concern' isn't how I'd describe it," Y/N muttered bitterly, and Thomas nudged her with his elbow. She frowned.

"Carry on 'n enjoy the rest of the ball, though, and please send my best to your wife," he said. Aaron could only offer a tense smile in response.

“You as well. I suppose I should go find Theodosia.” He looked down skeptically at Y/N. “How are you planning to get home?”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I…” She hadn’t thought that far, so her gaze was hopeful when it snapped to Thomas, who held her with a hand at the small of her back.

“I’ll arrange for a carriage to take her home,” he promised. “Don’t you worry, Burr. She’s in safe hands.”

“Right,” he said hesitantly, looking Thomas over. “I’ll leave you to it. Don’t do anything stupid, Jefferson.”

“‘S like you don’t even know who you’re talkin’ to,” Thomas said incredulously, and Aaron scoffed.

“I’m sure.” He barely spared them both another glance before departing unceremoniously, shaking his head all the while, and Thomas chuckled. Y/N turned back toward him.

“You’re a regular local hero,” she said sardonically, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her bored tone. Thomas grinned.

“I do try, sweetheart,” he said lightly, “maybe even in a way that deserves a ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you.” Her voice was sincere. “Really. I owe you.”

“Well, if you mean that,” he said, and his eyes were shining as he looked down at her, “I wouldn’t mind making good on that dance I mentioned. Unless you’re in a real rush to get back to your dear old brother.”

He offered her his arm with an eyebrow raised, and she left her empty glass on the table behind them when she took it, drawing a wide grin from him. “How could I say no to our charming host?"

#send me asks! #hamilton x reader #freedom of the press #hamilton fic #hamilton #thomas jefferson #lafayette x reader #lafayette #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs fanfic #daveed diggs x reader #daveed fic #hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #hamilton one shot #hamilton musical #hamilton the musical #aaron burr #thomas jefferson fic #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson x reader drabble #dorkfilmz

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.22

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

If you thought it was suffocating to be the center of a room of attention it was ten times worse being the center of Natasha Romanoff’s attention. And yet, you can’t tear your eyes away from hers. Why was she looking at you? 

You feel more than see the glares all the men send your way as she saunters over to you and leans on the bar in front of you. The proximity- Gods you were going to pass out for real this time. Would she catch you? She had quick enough reflexes for it.

There’s a scent that floods your senses that must be hers and it makes your head spin for the second time that night. You’d only gotten here twenty minutes ago. 

You should say something. Anything would be nice instead of you staring at her like a starstruck child. Come on Y/n-

“Why do they have you back here making the drinks?” Did that sound like an insult? Oh god it did, didn’t it? You were dead. You accidentally insulted The Black Widow and now you would get flipped over a table and no one would bat an eye. At least you got to die after meeting her. Goodbye, world.

You slowly exhale and subconsciously lean away from her as you stare at the ceiling. Hypnotic eye contact is sufficiently broken as your heart pounds a million beats per minute. Maybe this was how she killed you. Just by looking at you.

To your surprise, there’s a playful smirk on her face when you finally muster enough courage to look back at her. Something in you skips a beat. 

“Maybe it’s because I’m good at it” Her eyes track your face before she stands up straight and turns around, grabbing two bottles from behind her once again. You watch as she expertly moves through the motions of making a drink. It’s different from the one she made herself, this one has some type of syrup and fresh fruit shaken into it. When she’s done she pulls a glass from under the bar and pours the drink effortlessly into it, adding a little umbrella that you take a little too much delight in receiving. 

She crosses her arms, once again letting her body lean against the cool material of the bartop.

You don’t hesitate to pick up the drink. You’d probably drink poison if she gave it to you. As you take a sip she adamantly watches your reaction. This whole interaction feels strangely intimate and you have to wonder if this is how everyone feels when they meet her. The rest of the party was long gone from your mind.

The flavors from the drink danced on your tongue and you were pleasantly surprised at how little alcohol you could taste. You were a little scared after seeing the labels on the bottles she’d used for her own drink but this was genuinely delicious. 

Before you can tell her it’s good another man calls out to her. Her attention is sufficiently pulled away from you as she goes to give the man and his two girl friends beers. You sip your drink as you watch them interact but you feel your heart tighten when you see her giving a similar flirtatious look to the two women.

Ah. you understand now. She was just doing her job keeping the guests entertained. Stark parties had a high reputation, after all, they couldn’t have you leaving feeling unsatisfied with your visit. You carefully observed the way Natasha watched their body language, their eyes. Reading what made them react most. The same way she’d done to you. It was all an act.

You want to feel hurt but realistically what were you expecting? That Natasha would choose you? She was here talking to you and everyone else out of obligation not because she wanted to. You turn around and look for your friend, spotting her laughing as she sips a flute of champagne they were passing around on trays. You should’ve just grabbed one of those. Even if it didn’t taste as good as your drink. Hand-made for you. By Natasha Romanoff.

When you turn back around you almost jump out of your skin at the sight of said woman right in front of you. She seems proud that she spooked you and her little self-satisfied smirk painted with deep red lipstick is hard to look away from.

“So?” The raspy sound of her voice is a familiar sound from all of the interviews you used to watch of her. You tilt your head as you try to comprehend what she meant ‘So….what?’

“Am I good at it?” Realization dawns on you as you process the fact that she was referring to your earlier conversation

‘Why do they have you back here?’

‘Maybe it’s because I’m good at it’

Your first urge is to tease her, as it is with everyone you meet. You want to scrunch up your nose and tell her she should stick to fighting crime and then let a playful smile overtake your face but if you’re honest you’re a little too intimidated to even attempt such a joke.

Instead, you nod your head. Your spirits were a little deflated but that wasn’t going to stop you from having fun and meeting your literal hero. 

“Any chance you’ll give me the recipe?” Something about knowing her flirtation was just an act made you a little bolder as you attempted your own flirtatious approach.

Her eyes fill with a challenging light and you can’t help but think it’s the same look she gives her sparring partners. You suppose their fates ended up a little more bruised than yours was going to “I suppose I could be persuaded” 

Oh, so you were really doing this. Okay.

“Are you like this with every girl you meet?” You take the liberty to lean forward an inch, tilting your head and adapting the same look in your eyes. Even if it wasn’t authentic, flirting with Natasha was more fun and exciting than anything else going on at this party.

Laying it on thick, she leans in so she’s only a few inches away from your face. “Only the pretty ones” If the proximity didn’t already have you blushing her words certainly did. You could probably chalk it up to the alcohol but you both know that would be a lie.

“How Suave of you, Miss Romanoff” She waves you off

“Natasha is fine” You're more than willing to accept her permission to use her first name “and you are?” 

“Y/n. Y/n, Y/l/n.” You offer her a smile but she stills. In a way you’ve never seen a super spy freeze before. (Not that you’ve been in the company of many but movies are a great source)

Something in her eyes changes when she looks at you. Her eyes drink in your face once again but there’s something different about it this time. It’s slower, her gaze lingers as it traces and drags through your features. What was with this reaction? Maybe you had the same name as an ex of hers…

When her eyes meet yours again it’s like she’s seeing you for the first time. Really seeing you, not just giving you sultry looks for fun or obligation. Natasha Romanoff was looking at you like you meant something to her.

Your phone dings with a notification and you look down to see your friend messaging you to come join her. You glance over your shoulder to see her smiling at you and waving you over. There’s a group of people around her that she probably wants to introduce you to and you’d probably spent far too much time at the bar anyway. But…

As you stand to leave Natasha takes you in once more and you blush. You can’t help but wonder what she was thinking. She’d served you a drink and kept you entertained, surely her duties with you were done right? 

Why did her eyes hold so much weight to them now? 

Why was she looking at you like that?

~~

Nat didn’t believe in coincidences.

Conspiracies and coincidences and everything of the sort were things she tried her best to steer clear from. The stuff that followed usually resulted in bad news.

But if you were the same Y/n. Her Y/n. Then-

She hastily reaches out and grabs onto your arm, she’s sure you’ve turned to look at her in shock or confusion but her gaze is fixated on your wrist. The same bracelet from the photo sitting prettily on your soft skin. Skin that’s warm against her cold hands. She watches as a shiver travels down your spine. 

Her eyes travel back up your neck to your pearl earrings. There were probably thousands of pairs of pearl earrings in the world- real and fake. But those were yours, she could recognize them. If anyone could, it would be her.

God, she thought you were beautiful before- flirting for a little bit of fun at this boring party, but knowing it was you-

All those nights hovering over your profile on her computer and using every ounce of self-restraint not to click on the file labeled ‘pictures’ 

All this time she was missing out on every aspect of you. Your captivating curious eyes, the delicate fall of your hair, your soft honeyed lips.

How could she have not recognized your voice sooner? She’d been listening to her recording of your phone call on repeat for days.

Her eyes met yours again and she felt speechless for the first time. And she battled real live aliens three years ago. She’s been through some shit. 

She heard your name get called in the distance, your gaze tore away from hers to find the source of the voice.

A woman around your age is calling you over and you’re getting ready to go over and join her. But how could she let you go when she knows it’s you? All this time. You. She couldn’t wrap her head around what she was seeing. This had to be a dream. 

When your eyes land back on hers they’re filled with an unspoken apology and she panics as she realizes you were about to walk away.

She wants to tell you “It’s me, the Nat you’ve been talking to”, wants to hear her name form on your lips and roll off of your tongue in your soft voice again and again but she doesn’t want to scare you away. 

Not now- she tells herself. 

“Find me later?” it comes out softer than she intended but your lips quirk up in a surprised smile anyway and you nod as your wrist slips from her grasp. 

She watches you walk away and turns back to the bar, a genuine smile slipping from her lips. She could still feel the warmth of your hand against hers, there were so many features about you that she’d gotten wrong when she spent her nights picturing you in her mind. 

You were more beautiful than she could’ve imagined. 

For good measure, she sends you a text and watches you smile as your phone lights up. As soon as you finish typing her phone pings with the all too familiar notification sound. 

    Y/n🍦:

Nat🔪: 

How's the party?

Y/n🍦:

You have no idea!

Nat watches the way you smile at your phone as you text her. Your friend gives you a knowing look and you playfully nudge her.

Returning to her task of making drinks, her eyes scan the room for you every so often to watch the way you smile at guests and the way you grip your friend's arm every time you laugh at something. 

She shakes her head, chuckling, she was going to have to reread every text you sent now that she knows your voice, the way your laugh sounds, the way your eyes light up.

There was no way she was going to be able to keep herself from calling you now. And if you recognized her voice over the phone well- that wouldn’t be so bad anymore.

Pt23

A/n: I hope you guys liked their first encounter! Unfortunately the chances of Y/n recognizing Nat next chapter are pretty slim as there's still more to this story I want to add so please don't yell at me! Love you guys<3 ~Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162

#marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #fluff #women of marvel #fluff fic #natasha romanoff #mcu fluff #natasha fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha marvel #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff x female #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #upon a starry night writes #number neighbor story

[finelinevogue]

birthday boy

summary - harry’s birthday party ends up with cake frosting in his hair and your eyes

warnings: twinge of sadness but like it’s barely even there tbh, swearing, kissing, lots n lots of frosting

word count: +2.3k

pairing: fiancé!harry x reader

“Anyone need a top up?”

You were laughing with Glenne as she finished telling a funny story about her new intern. You couldn’t really hear what the story had been about, due to the obscene amount of noise in the room, but you laughed anyway.

“Yes please!” Glenne slurred, drunk on her birthday alcohol.

You were just as drunk, not because it was your birthday but because it was your fiancé’s birthday.

“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.

“Me too, please!” You held out your glass flute as the kind server poured more champagne into it, after topping up Glenne’s first.

After you’d both thanked the server politely, you both returned to your conversations with each other. You’d both just needed a moment away from crowds to catch up on the evening gossip so far, so you’d come to sit on the velvet sofas in the corner of the room.

“Y/N, I have to say, you did a fabulous job on decorations this year.” Glenne cheered.

“I did?”

You looked around the room and evaluated what you had achieved. The mirrorball in the middle of the room shone a thousand diamonds down onto the dance floor, which was a black and white chessboard set up. There were fairy lights hung up around the walls. A balloon arch was in another corner of the room, where there was a rose wall behind it, for photo opportunities.

“Yeah! I love it!” Glenne looked around the room too, taking in all your hard work. “Jeff could never pull off something like this.”

It had taken you a couple of hours to set up the decorations and Harry had been all pouty that you had to leave him for so long on his birthday, but when you’d showed him what you’d been up to he fell in love with you a little bit more.

“I would’ve said neither could Harry, but something tells me he actually could.” You laughed, Glenne laughing along with you.

“Speaking of Harry… Have you two decided on a date yet?” Glenne nudged your leg with her heeled foot.

“Maybe May? I… We don’t know yet.” You sighed, shoulders slumping thinking about how you and Harry couldn’t agree on the perfect date for your wedding. “I mean, my dad can’t make any time in April, but Harry’s dad can’t make any time in June and we definitely want to be married before July, but…”

“Babe, woah, slow down. Y/N, this wedding, no matter how much you don’t want to upset anyone, is about you and Harry. It’s the one day in your life, apart from your birthday, where you get to be selfish. Take it as an opportunity to build a wedding day that you want, not anyone else.”

“Yeah you’re right.” You said so quietly not even Glenne heard.

“H’s version of a perfect wedding will be a day where you’re nothing short of perfectly happy.” Glenne shot back the rest of her champagne and placed it on the table in front of you two. “So, really, plan whatever you want.”

“Yeah” You nodded and placed your half full glass on the table too. “Alright, excuse me, I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure.” She nodded and stood up herself, pulling down her short skirt and tottling off to find Jeff.

You walked past flurries of people, waving hello to people across the room who caught your eye. A lot of people you didn’t know, but Jeff had told you to send invites to because Harry and Glenne would know them. They were mainly Hollywood people that worked in the music industry, but there were a couple of faces you did know.

Gemma Chan was there and you made sure she knew you’d come and steal her away later for a catch up. Asif Ali was also there and you would have to go see him too, in order to bring some more smiles to your face.

After you’d finished in the toilets you walked back into the room to see a congregation in the middle of the room. Since you had organised the event and had no additional entertainment booked other than the live band, you were curious to see what was going on.

When you got to the back of the circle, trying to peer over the tall people at the back, you noticed Glenne sat on a chair with her back to Harry who was sat on another chair.

You could tell by the look in your fiancés eyes that he was very tipsy. His hair was messy on the top of his head from all the dancing around he had been doing this evening. He still hadn’t pulled you for a dance yet, but you two had been separated ever since you’d walked inside the venue. Harry was whisked away by Jeff to meet people, having a drink each time he came across someone new, and before you knew it he was dancing to Gloria Gaynor with the chief executive of Columbia.

You missed him.

When it came to events like these, even though it was actually his birthday, he was always so whisked up in the business side of it that you had to entertain yourself. It was never that Harry abandoned you, but you would rather not have to over-socialise. You put it down to your social anxiety and fear of social burnout.

“Now, a little surprise for my two best friends.” Jeff spoke into a microphone so he could be heard by everyone.

Some sensual music started playing and you automatically assumed that it was strippers. Your heart sunk at the thought of Harry having a gorgeous girl straddle him and perform intimate positions with him. It would be unkind of Jeff if he had planned something like that. Your heart lightened when you saw Jeff stand in front of Glenne and start pulling off his jacket sexily, before rounding to Harry’s side and wiggling his bum in Harry’s face. Harry’s drunk self slapped Jeff’s bum and everyone laughed. Even you.

Harry looked around the crowd, his eyes not pausing their movement until they met yours. The mischievous glint in his eyes made you wonder what he was thinking. No doubt it was something to do with wanting you as his lap dance, rather than Jeff. Jeff was doing a good job though, making everyone laugh and making his wife embarrassed that she ever married him. Luckily everyone was too drunk to care.

After Jeff buttoned his shirt back up and put his jacket on, he was handed back the microphone, nodded at you and you knew that was your queue to go and get the cake. They were sharing a cake, as they often did, so you picked it up from the kitchen with its candles and sparklers in before carrying it back carefully.

When you returned to the room, the lights went dim and the birthday tune started to play. People made way for you to squeeze through the crowd as you walked towards the birthday kids.

You smiled when Harry’s gaze caught yours. He mouthed ‘wow’ at you, but you knew he wasn’t saying it about the cake. As you stopped short in front of both Glenne and Harry, they stood together whilst people finished the song. You sang out too, looking at Harry the entire time and watched his smile remain constant as he watched you sing out.

The cake was heavy and Harry must have noticed because he picked up the side closest to him and took the weight off you slightly. As the song finished Harry and Glenne both shared the job of blowing out the candles.

Jeff helped take off the candles and sparkler to clear the cake so it was just a plain cake remaining. Harry took the opportunity to try and smash Glenne’s face into the cake, but she restrained enough to resist the force of his hand. Harry wasn’t paying attention to Jeff though and missed him coming behind him and pushed his head down into the cake, until it was too late. The side of his face and a loose curl of hair got caught up in the frosting and people cheered as he made a mess of his face.

You laughed as he stood back up and licked the frosting from the corner of his mouth, as if that was all there was to clean up. You stood still holding the cake and looking at Harry with endearment. He looked so soft and cuddly, and maybe a little delicious too.

“What are you laughing at?” Harry asked, as he lifted the strand of hair back onto his head even when it was still full of vanilla frosting.

You shook your head and laughed at him, knowing he would be a mess to clean up later. It wasn’t a second later after that thought that Harry used his own hand to push your face into the cake this time. He also pulled your head back, using your hair, so you didn’t suffocate inside the sponge. You managed to get more on your face, looking like you were wearing a face mask. So much so you couldn’t open your eyes.

“Fucking dickhead.” You muttered, but it turned into a chuckle because you were drunk and didn’t care.

Harry must have asked someone else to get a hand on the cake so it wasn’t your responsibility anymore. It wasn’t like it was very edible to anyone, considering it now had to face impressions in it.

You felt Harry take your hands, your eyes still closed from the frosting, and you could feel him guiding you through the crowds of people. His hands were warm and even though you couldn’t see whether it was him that was leading you off, you could feel it in your hands that it was Harry.

No one else's hands felt like home other than his.

His hands cupped perfectly in yours and you tailed him like a bind and lovesick puppy. His polite excuses to get through the crowd made him feel closer to you also, his voice so comforting.

When the crowd noise disappeared you assumed you must have been in a quieter room now.

“Harry where are…”

You couldn’t ask him more than that because his lips were on yours. And they were his because no one else's lips felt like home other than his. They were perfect against yours, moving over yours with such delicate precision that only came with knowing how best to kiss you. Harry knew exactly how you liked to be kissed and he was doing everything you wanted. His hands were even cupped in the right places under your jaw.

“You taste like frosting.” He chuckled.

You laughed with him, probably looking silly with frosting in your eyes. Harry had frosting in his hair though and there was no one that you’d rather be in this situation in rather than him.

“Happy birthday, H.”

“Thank you.” He said softly.

You felt Harry’s fingers wipe carefully over your eyes and relieve them of frosting. You opened your eyes carefully to watch Harry lick the frosting off his fingers with his tongue. He then brought his other finger to your lips to allow you to lick it clean, which he watched with beady eyes as you did.

“Good frosting.” You hummed in delight, knowing you had made the right call with the vanilla, not strawberry, frosting.

“Mm. Tasted better off your face.”

You laughed, hitting him softly over his ribs, “Oh, stop it you.”

“Never.” He shook his head and smiled at how he managed to make you laugh.

“I hope you had a good night tonight.”

Harry had looked like he had had a good night, but you could never be too sure until you asked him. He was very good at putting on a front, especially in show business , but with you he was nothing but honest.

“I loved it, baby, I really did. Just wish I got to spend more time with you. I mean, I love my friends and, y’know, all of them other people… but they’re not you.”

You pouted, somehow wishing you could’ve spent more time with him. You tried your hardest to finish all the decorations as quickly as possible, but you were a perfectionist so it did take longer than originally planned. As for the party itself, you couldn’t stop him from talking to people, no matter how badly you did want him all to yourself.

“Sorry.”

“No, baby, there’s nothing you need to be sorry for. Just one of those things, where too many people want my attention and yet I only want yours.” He shrugged his shoulders and he made you smile.

“You always have my attention.” You promised him, cupping his cheek softly.

“And I’ll try to give you more of mine this year. In fact, come my next birthday you’ll be sick of me.” He chuckled and stepped closer to you, not liking the 10cm of space between you.

“Could never get sick of you, H. Never.”

“Feelings mutual, lovie.”

He leant down to kiss you again, kissing your bottom lip with his and sucking on it lightly. His lips grounded you and reminded you that he was right here and he was all yours. You kissed back with force, wanting to show how much you really did love him, pushing into his lips with your own.

A minute later and your lips both raw from such loving kissing, you gave each other one last peck.

“More of that later, baby. For now, let’s go the chippy? I’m fucking starving.” Harry whined.

“Alright, birthday boy, let’s go.” And the rest of the evening was filled with chips, gravy and lots and lots of love.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #harry styles birthday #harry styles 29 birthday #fic rec harry styles #masterlist finelinevogue #harry styles fluff

[oneforthemunny]

everybody loves somebody |older!eddie| part 10

prompt: your first valentine's day with eddie.

age gap relationship. Eddie is 42 and reader is 26. everything is consensual.

contains: age gap, dilf!eddie, older!eddie, alcohol, language, p in v sex, oral male and fem receiving, really sweet and fluffy and smutty. minors dni 18+

The front office had delivered the roses to your door during your planning, smiling and giggling with holiday filled joy about how beautiful the roses were. And they were, but the card attached was even better.

'Bunny, Happy Valentine's Day to my best girl. You have my heart every second of every day. I can't wait to see you tonight. Love, Ed'

Your blush matched the roses, heart soaring and floating the rest of the day.

The other teachers had cooed, tight lipped smiles when you passed with the bouquet. You could feel their jealous gazes, eyes cutting and lips pursed.

The kids had asked a million questions, bombarding with you about who your boyyyyfriend was, followed by a stream of giggles and cackles. The candy from the party didn't help their energy, bouncing at their desks, ripping open heart shaped suckers and candy hearts.

Eddie had shown up at your apartment at five o'clock on the dot. He'd had a midday shift today, taking the night off so he could spoil you. He cleaned up nice for you, he always did. Curls tamed and framing his face neatly, black button down and black slacks, leaving the top unbuttoned so you could see his inked skin. Sliding your jacket on, opening your doors, lips on your cheek, pressing kisses and words that made you giggle into your skin.

"Enzo's?" You asked, brows raised when the truck rolled into the parking lot. Cars filled the spots, but you knew on nights like tonight they only did reservations. A big Valentine's Day dinner that was near impossible to get into anyways.

Eddie grinned, hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles up your bare leg. "Told you I'd spoil you, bunny." He pressed his lips to yours, squeezing your thigh when he ran around to open your door.

You didn't miss the way the hostess raised her brow at the two of you, eyes flickering from you back to him, then at his tattoos. Your eyes narrowed at her, lifting a challenging brow to the snooty high schooler. Her lips pressed together, but she showed you to your seats, nose in the air.

You passed Steve and Nancy in the restaurant, the two having a child free Valentine's dinner to themselves. Eddie waved, the two sharing matching smirks before you were seated.

"You didn't have to do this for me, Ed." You smiled, looking at the candles that illuminated your table. Eddie reached over, pouring champagne into your flute. "I would've been happy with Benny's." You grinned.

Eddie laughed softly, lifting his own glass. His eyes sparkled when he looked at you. "Well, maybe next year." He said, tapping his glass with yours, enjoying the way you blushed, trying to hide behind the glass. "To our first Valentine's Day. One of many."

He ordered your food, you let him, content on letting him be in control tonight, letting him spoil you for the evening. You knew he loved to, smirking at you after he'd tell the waiter exactly what you wanted. Proud of himself for how he took care of you.

The champagne poured, Eddie ordered dessert, the two of you chatted in the dim light of Enzo's, the classical music playing softly in the background only aiding to the snooty vibe of the place.

"My first graders wanted to know who sent me the flowers today." You grinned. "Thank you, by the way, they were stunning. Beautiful."

Eddie smiled. "Of course." He nodded, reaching his hand out to grab yours across the table. "I got you somethin' else too." He moved into his jacket, pulling out a small, square shaped, black box.

You gasped when he opened it, teardrop pearl earrings with gold clasps lined with tiny diamonds. You saw them weeks ago, a little after Christmas when he was taking his watch to be fixed. You'd told him they were beautiful, so dainty and perfect. So, he went and got them for you.

"Eddie, you shouldn't-"

"Sure I should have." Eddie waved at you, grinning at the way you delicately reached out to hold the box. "They're gonna look beautiful on you, baby. Happy Valentine's Day."

You smiled, clasping them in your hands. You leaned across the table, not caring at the glances or side eyed stares you got to kiss him, fully and passionately. Your head swam from the champagne, and your heart was fluttering, you felt like it might fly right out of your throat.

Eddie chuckled through the kiss, hands holding your jaw, gently. By the time you were brought your dessert, you were ready to go. Eddie had it wrapped up to-go before the two of you left, giggly and blushing all the way to the car. He stopped before he opened your door, kissing you hard, pressing your back up against the cold metal of the truck.

The ride home was sweet. Stolen kisses, giggles, Eddie serenading you with love songs on the radio. Eddie's house was quiet when the two of you stumbled in, Brielle was at Gina's for the night.

Eddie's hands were all over you, roaming your black, silk dress, pawing desperately at the fabric. His lips on your neck, scruff of his beard rubbing against your sensitive skin. You knew you'd be chaffed raw by tomorrow, but you didn't care.

"Wait," you gasped, pushing Eddie's chest slightly when his lips sucked on your neck. Eddie looked at you with confusion, hands still tight on your hips.

"Wait, I-I have a present for you too." You said, blushing and nervous. You clutched your purse in your hands, white knuckled with the strap between your fingers.

Eddie cocked a brow, eyes falling down to your purse. "Bunny, c'mon, you didn't have to-"

"Yes, I-I," You laughed. "How about, you go in the bedroom, wait for me, and I'll be there in a minute? Ok?"

Eddie raised his brows, a dark look taking over his features. You grinned, legs clenching with excitement. "I'll just be a minute. I promise."

You slipped into the bathroom in the hall, back pressed against the door, lying your purse on the sink. You pulled out the red lingerie piece you'd been hiding. Lacy, one piece set- well, it was so revealing, it might as well been nothing at all. Crotchless so it exposed your center, lacy mesh material so sheer you could see right through the two small heart details that attempted to cover your nipples. It was high cut on the sides, plunging low on the front. Scandalous and delicate.

Eddie had lost his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, sleeves rolled up as he waited on the bed. You peeked around the corner, hidden by the door as you grinned. "You ready for your gift, Mr. Munson?" You asked.

Eddie smirked back, spreading his legs farther when he sat into the bed. "Can hardly stand it, bunny. Show me what you got me."

You took a breath, pushing the door open, revealing yourself, changed into the lacy red piece. Eddie's eyes bulged, roaming over your body as you walked closer to him.

"It was supposed to have little wings and an arrow, but," You shrugged, spinning around for him. "Whaddya think?"

Eddie swallowed, reaching out to you, eyes moving from your breasts to your exposed center, back up and down, all over. His hands pulled you closer, so you were standing between his legs. He spun you around slowly, fingers tracing over the thin cloth that barely covered any part of your ass.

"Holy shit." Eddie breathed, hands moving fro your waist back to your ass. "You bought this for me?"

You smiled, nodding excitedly. "Happy Valentine's Day, baby." You whispered, lips brushing over his. "Hope you like your gift."

And oh, did he.

Eddie had no problem showing you how much he liked his gift. He was buried between your legs not minutes later, your claves down his back, heels of your feet digging into his shoulders and moving around like his own pair of angel wings.

Eddie sucked on your clit, fingers pumping slow and lazy in you, curling so he jammed into your g-spot, leaving you crying out and gushing. Your hands wrapped in his curls, crying out when he'd bury his nose into you, inhaling your scent entirely while devouring you from the inside out.

He'd pulled down your straps, leaving the top part around your waist so he could toy with your nipples, grinning into you at the way your back arched when he rolled them between his fingers.

You were a puddle when he finished, barely holding yourself up when you climbed down the length of his body, trailing sloppy, wet kisses. "'M gonna thank you for dinner." You said, hazy and spacey. "Thank you for takin' care of me."

Eddie smirked, pushing your hair out of your face when you fumbled with his pants. You palmed him through his black briefs, kissing the outline of his cock so delicately he lurched towards you.

You kissed up the length of him, tongue trailing back down lightly. You knew by now how he liked it, slow and a little teasing at first. Your mouth sucking lightly on his sac until he was throwing his head back with a groan, leaking from his tip. His hands found your hair, fisting tightly and pulling at your scalp.

You took your time. You really wanted to show him how much you appreciated him, how much you loved him. He didn't thrust into your mouth, or fuck your mouth until you choked around him. He let you swallow him taking him slowly and sweetly. Kitten licks to his tip that led to you nuzzling the hair at his base, him stuffed down your throat.

That's how he fucked you that night, slow and meaningful. There was no rush, no thrill to fuck quickly and hard. His body was pressed to yours, your hands on his back, heels digging into the flesh of his ass. Eddie kissed down your neck, muttering sweet words and praises Ito your skin, sweaty bodies conjoined together as the bed squeaked with every slow rock of his hips against yours.

Your eyes rolled back, toes curling when he circled his thumb around your clit. "'S good for me, bunny. That's right. Let me make you feel good, sweet girl." Eddie rasped against your cheek, pressing soft kisses into your heat licked skin.

Your nails raked down his back with every orgasm he pulled out of you. You clamped around him again, tears leaking out of your eyes. You could tell by the way his grip tightened on your waist that he was close, but he didn't pick up his speed. He kept it consistent and rhythmic, the way you liked it. Your heart swelled that he knew that about you now.

Eddie groaned, muscles clenching when he released, warmth filling you from the inside out. His sticky bangs pressed against your forehead, his head falling against yours, lips brushing and noses touching. "I love you so much, baby, so much, fuck." Eddie muttered, chest rising and falling quickly against you.

His head dropped to your shoulder, breath steadying as you remained wrapped in each other, close together. Eddie looked up at you, you ran a hand through his sweaty curls.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby." Eddie whispered, lips pressing against your jaw, trailing all the way to your lips. "I'll spoil you every other day, too. I promise, bunny."

"Yeah?" You asked, giggly and dazed, coming down from your own high.

Eddie nodded, hands fisting the fabric that was tossed on the space next to you two, lacy red fabric that had been sweat soaked and was now wrinkled. "I promise." He said. The lines by his eyes crinkled when he smiled, moving the discarded lingerie closer to you two. "Especially if you wear this again, baby, fuck." You giggled, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer to you.

You stored the lingerie piece in the back of his underwear drawer, saving it for the next time you needed it. You went to work the next day, high neck sweater to cover the hicks on your collarbones and breasts, but ears shining and sparkling with your new dazzling earrings.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #funsonmunson #older!dilf!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie #older!eddie munson x reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie #dilf!eddie munson x reader #dilf!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut

[m1dn1ght-hag]

Hi! Can I request diavolo reacting to reader who had become his wife/queen being hit on by another king who us visiting the devil domain? Saying things like "you are a lucky man", being overly touchy with reader, even going as far as asking if diavolo was willing to " share"?

note: I’m SO sorry this took so long to come out 😭 I just graduated so hopefully I should have more time to focus on being mentally ill 😝💪 the ending doesn’t rwallt fit the mood of the rest of the writing but i like jt too much tk get rid of it

somewhat proofread 😭

Content warning: uhhh catcalling???, inappropriate comments, objectification, jealous Dia

Fem!MC

—

It had been a slow day for Diavolo, and knowing he had to attend a formal party after work helped a little to ease his nerves. The thing he’d be looking forward to all day is seeing you, who’d be accompanying him as his plus one. (as if you weren’t going to be invited anyways.)

He appreciated all the effort his citizens put into celebrating him, however he was simply too exhausted after how slow the day had been dragging on. It was his birthday and he was still forced to attend business meetings and keep up with his paperwork to avoid falling behind. (Barbatos’ orders. He’s scary when he’s angry, and Diavolo did NOT want to feel his wrath.)

A simple knock on his door alerted him of Barbatos’ presence, speak of the devil, before the butler let himself in. Upon entering the room and seeing Diavolo hunched over his desk, slowly dwindling away at the stack of documents he clicked his tongue.

"Young lord," he started, drawing Diavolo's attention away from the paper, "it's time to get prepared, we must leave in the next hour."

With a relieved sigh, Diavolo stood his stretched his aching limbs, glad to be going to the party seeing it as a distraction from the endless paperwork he had to sign.

——

Being with you at the party definitely brightened his mood as the two of you chatted and laughed together, occasionally interrupted by a demon cheering birthday wishes.

“Oh, Dia, I’ll go get us some drinks.” Diavolo smiled as the nickname naturally slipped past your lips, “what do you want?”

“Whatever you’re getting, my dear.” seeing the unamused glare you sent him made him chuckle.

“You better not complain,” you reprimanded jokingly, patting his arm before heading to the beverage table.

He allowed his eyes to follow your figure before he heard a whistle next to him. He turned his head in the direction of the noise to see someone eyeballing you. Diavolo quickly noted the other demon was the crowned prince from another kingdom, visiting in place of his father to celebrate Diavolo. He also noted that he was very, very drunk. A risqué compliment slurred past his lips followed by a hiccup before he noticed Diavolo.

“Oh! Lord Diavolo,” He laughed too loud for comfort, “congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Diavolo replied with fake gratitude, curtly nodding.

“Yesss, you caught a real beauty alright.”

“Excuse me?” Diavolo scoffed, ‘caught?’

The other prince tipped forward, gasping when his drink nearly spilled over before, sloppily, regaining “balance” and downing another flute of demonus. He called over a waiter who, begrudgingly, handed him another.

“You know-“ a hiccup interrupted his speech, “-you should sharee, she’s a pretty one and I’d like a bite if her myself.”

“Excuse me?” Diavolo repeated, feeling his blood begin to boil.

The demon bellowed, waving the new glass of Demonus in the air, “you heard me, yes you did!” He hiccuped, “you’re a lucky man, alright!”

Diavolo glanced over towards you, and felt a wave of relief upon seeing you were still at the beverage table, now chatting with Lucifer. He was silently thanking his friend for occupying you at the moment; he could only imagine how uncomfortable it would have been for you to listen to some drunkard babbling about your body so inappropriately.

You caught his gaze and sent him a pleasant smile, waving. The angry expression he wore faded momentarily as he returned the smile and waved back, before turning his attention back to the drunken demon standing before him, who’d tipped his head back and downed another flute of white wine.

You quickly finished your conversation with Lucifer and dismissed yourself, eager to get back to your boyfriend.

“Hey Dia,” you greeted, interlocking your fingers with his and rubbing your thumb along his, “sorry I took so long.”

Diavolo flinched at your touch and inwardly cursed, sending the demon another nasty look before trying to drag you away from the offender. “That’s quite alright my dear, you could have stayed longer.”

A whistle startled you and caused Diavolo to let out an irate sigh. You turned your attention to the source of the noise, a brow quirked. “Excuse me?”

“Mc, no,“ Diavolo’s plea fell to deaf ears as the demon started talking.

A hiccup followed by a string of coughing as the demon slurred out a provocative comment, waving around the, now empty, flute merrily and swaying closer to the couple.

Diavolo instinctively stepped in front of you, holding you behind him so the demon wouldn't try grabbing you. "End this behavior at once or I'll have to ask you to leave."

"Ohhh-" the demon gagged and swallowed, "don't be that way, I'm just sayin' we could share her, y'know?"

Before Diavolo could react, the demon reached forward to touch you, barely grazing your arm before Diavolo harshly elbowed his arm away. Barbatos interfered before anything got too out of hand and grabbed the drunkard's arm, twisted it behind his back, and escorted him away from the scene, telling him that they’d be sending him back to his kingdom and informing his father of his behaviour.

Diavolo would have to remember to thank Barbatos later.

He turned to you, both hands on either shoulder, his previous anger dissipated and was replaced with concern. “Are you alright, my dear? I deeply apologize for the way he was treating you.”

“I’m fine,” you cup his cheeks, watching the way he melted in your hands, rubbing into your hold, “are you okay, Dia?”

He angled his head to place a tentative kiss to the palm of your hand, a pleasant smile returning to his face, “I am now, my dear. Thank you.”

You gently pinch his cheek, earning a giggle from him before you also began giggling, “what for?”

“For choosing me.”

“Oh, Dia you big sap,” you pinched his cheeks again before pressing a kiss against his lips, feeling him smile against yours. You would have kissed him so more it you two weren’t in public, surrounded by the presence of many nobles, who’d frown upon the un-princely show of affection, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my dear,” he cupped his hands around yours, before pulling them away from his face and straightening his posture, “now that we won’t be interrupted again, where are the drinks you were wanting me to try?”

“Oh,” you cupped your free hand over your mouth, “I forgot them by Lucifer, I saw you and got distracted.”

Diavolo laughed, squeezing your hand, “well lets go over, together this time, shall we?”

#diavolo om #diavolo x reader #obey me #om diavolo #obey me x reader

[mint-yooxgi]

Rover - Spy!Jongin X Reader X Yandere!Spy!Kai

Twin!AU, Spy!AU & Yandere!AU - Based off of Kai's Mini Album Rover

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Tragedy, Smut

Pairing: Jongin X Reader X Kai

Words: 25,600

Warnings: Violence: physical and gun related, blood and injuries, unhealthy relationships, allusions to cheating (but not actually in that particular context), major deaths, assault and mentions of sexual trafficking. Smut: Dub-Con (there is explicit consent, but it's immediately negated due to the fact that OC is misled to believe she is consenting to her husband when it is not actually him; unknowing infidelity), oral (fem. rec), praise, body worship, dirty talk, very sensual and intimate. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: *Ding ding ding* @ninibears-erigom come get your dinner!! Hehehe, anyways, this is heavily inspired by Kai's third mini album and the subsequent MVs/Films for it. I'm a little hesitant posting it cause of the dub-con aspect, but this is a much darker fic than I usual write and I really like how it turned out. Also, please don't come in my inbox saying OC is stupid for not realizing things, I don't wanna hear it lmaoo anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

“What’s your position from the target?” A deep voice sounds in your ear, but you appear to pay him no mind.

“Twenty metres.” Comes your low reply, taking a sip from the crystalline glass held in your hand.

“Whenever you’re ready: approach.” Another male responds, and you can feel his eyes locked onto your figure from the side of the room.

Carefully, you place the champagne flute in your hand onto a side table, weaving your way through the crowd. People hardly notice you, too wrapped up in their own worlds to see nothing but a fleeting shadow dancing in the corner of their vision.

You smirk.

A moment later, and you feel someone bump into your front, spilling wine all over your satin gown.

“Pardon me,” a rough voice greets your ears as you wear an expression of shock.

“It’s all my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you smile sheepishly, curling in on yourself as hushed whispers and pointed glances are sent your way.

“Be more careful next time, lass,” he responds with a firm nod of his head before turning away.

A waiter offers you a napkin to begin cleaning yourself off with, of which you accept graciously as you begin to walk away.

Little does anyone notice the smirks that tug subtly on either one of your faces.

A shrill scream reaches your ears as a dull thud echoes around the room. The music from the string quartet stops abruptly, people gathering in a circle around a now convulsing body. Not just any body, but the body of the man you had just ‘accidentally’ bumped into.

Not even a second later, the body stills, laying dead upon the floor.

Turning down one of the side hallways of the banquet hall, you appear to slip into the bathroom to freshen up. Only, you mange to slip out of the side door instead.

The cool night air is crisp against your skin, hands immediately coming up to grasp your arms for warmth. That cloth is still held in your hand, but you’ve long since given up attempting to save your dress. There’s no use, anyways. You’ve done what you’ve came here to do, so now all that’s left is to rendezvous at the meeting point, and call it a night.

“Did you get the rest of the information we needed?” That same deep voice from earlier echoes through your little earpiece, but you know he’s not talking to you for the moment.

“Signed, sealed, and delivered.” The other answers just as you hear the same door you exited out of creak open behind you.

Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you see that same waiter step out of the building. A smirk pulls at his lips as he sees you, loosening the first few buttons on his shirt as he approaches.

“God, I don’t know how these servers wear these things all night,” he grumbles, fingering the tie looser to ease it from his neck.

You grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he steps in front of you. “Well, I think you look very handsome.”

“At your service, My Lady,” he grins right back, a teasing glint shining within his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist.

A small silence settles over the both of you as you begin to lean in to one another. You stare deeply into his soft brown eyes, lips quirking as he squeezes your waist gently in his hold.

“If you two are done flirting with each other, we have a job to finish.” A sharp voice interrupts the moment you had been having with your husband.

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes, turning to face the second male who now stands at the end of the alleyway. A male who is identical in every way to the one who still stands behind you, save for a small mole on the back of his neck, directly beneath his hairline. “We’re coming."

“Just because you don’t have a wife, Kai, doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to appreciate mine.” Again, his arms slide around your waist, resting his chin over your one shoulder.

Kai’s jaw tenses, lips pursing as his frown deepens.

“Jongin, don’t boast.” You poke said male’s arm lightly while letting out a soft giggle. “It’s unbecoming of you.”

“It’s never stopped him before,” Kai mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, without waiting for either one of you to respond, he continues, “Come on, let’s get going.”

Without another word, the three of you are heading down the alleyway and towards a sleek black car. 

The all leather interior is cool against your skin as you slide into the backseat, a chill running down your spine.

Kai’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror, a silent puff of air escaping him as your husband doesn’t even seem to notice.

“There’s a blanket under the passenger seat if you’re cold.” He states, somewhat gruffly as the engine purrs to life.

The lights illuminate the path before you, and without waiting another second, Kai speeds out of the alleyway, racing off into the night.

“Stop taking better care of my wife than me.” Jongin grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest somewhat childishly. “Get your own."

“Maybe if you payed better attention to her, I wouldn’t fucking have to.” Kai remarks, weaving in and out through other cars as he heads for the agency you all work for across the city.

“Boys,” you tut, shaking your head in amusement. A moment later, and that blanket is wrapped around your figure. It’s surprisingly warm. “We’ve just got to find your  older brother a partner of his own to worry about, and then he won’t have to worry about me.”

Briefly, his eyes glance at you again within the rearview mirror.

Impossible. He’ll always worry about you, since his brother never seems to want to.

“What type of person are you in to, Kai?” You lean forward, resting your arm on the back of Jongin’s seat as you look towards the elder of the two.

“You ask me this every time.” He grumbles, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“And you never have an answer for me.” You reply with an amused hum, somewhat knowingly. “Do you fancy men, women, both, or any type of person there is?”

Jongin quirks a brow, shaking his head while muttering about your incessant need to find his brother a life partner.

“Why is it you really want to know?” Kai shoots a look towards you out of the corner of his eyes, lips quirking as he pulls off of the highway. “Worried you might make yourself jealous?”

A loud, boisterous laugh falling from your painted lips greets his ears. You even go so far as to pat his shoulder a few times in jest, wiping at your eyes with your free hand as if you had tears gathering at the corners.

“Now, why would knowing you fancy someone make me jealous?” You remove your hand. “You know I’m married, right?”

That damn ring of yours glinting beneath the artificial lights illuminating the street he drives down mocks him, the matching one sitting proudly on Jongin’s own hand. A ring which should have been on his finger instead.

Kai grits his teeth. “How could I ever forget?”

“No, I want to know your type so I can set you up with someone,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Perhaps Shinobu from logistics, or my friend Sunmin.”

He blinks, staring blankly ahead as he turns into the entrance to the underground parking lot for your agency. “I’m perfectly happy on my own.”

“Your comments about our marriage suggest otherwise,” Jongin grumbles just as Kai pulls into a spot.

Your brow quirks, but you say nothing as you exit the vehicle.

As soon as your foot touches the concrete flooring, the engine is cut, the two males stepping out to join you immediately after. Jongin instantly has his arm around your waist, helping to guide you inside of the building.

The whole time you walk inside and to the elevator, you can feel Kai’s eyes on you. However, little do you realize the way his shoulder still tingles from your touch mere minutes before.

The ride up to the main facility is silent, both males flanking you on either side. The only difference is, Jongin has his hand placed lowly on your back, even with that blanket still resting over your shoulders. It’s faint, but the material smells of jasmine and a certain type of musk you can’t quite put your finger on. All that you do know, is it smells incredible, and you find yourself leaning in to catch that scent more often that not. 

A fact of which Kai picks up on.

A subtle smirk pulls at his lips as he sees you wrap that blanket tighter around yourself as the elevator doors slide open with a slight ding. The fact that you lean into it, wanting to smell more of him mixed with you sets his heart racing in his chest.

Now, if only he could have you smelling like that naturally.

“I’m going to go change, and then I’ll meet you boys in the boss’ office.” You say, voice managing to pull both of them out of their thoughts for the moment.

A nod is all you receive from Jongin as you turn to place a gentle kiss onto his cheek. Pulling away, you smile softly at Kai before heading down a separate hallway and towards your own private office at the one end of the facility.

As soon as you disappear from sight, Kai is shooting a pointed look at his younger brother.

“You didn’t even ask if she was okay.” His tone is pointed, disproval heavy in his gaze.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap.” Jongin rolls his eyes, already heading down the opposite hallway and towards their boss’ office. “You didn’t either.”

“At least I noticed she was cold.” Kai huffs, eyes narrowing at the back of his brother’s head as he follows after Jongin.

“If she was cold she would have said something.” Jongin replies nonchalantly as he tucks his hands into his pockets. Taking another step, he rounds on his brother. “Stop meddling in our affairs. What my wife and I do is none of your concern.”

“It is when you don’t fucking treat her properly.” Kai seethes, pushing Jongin harshly against the wall using his forearm. “Did you even notice that bastard didn’t even fucking apologize for spilling his drink all over her? Or were you just too busy eye-fucking his wife.”

“We got the job done, didn’t we?” Jongin spits, shoving his brother off of him.

“You’re fucking lucky we know what we’re dong.” Kai snaps, brushing past his twin with a harsh knock into his shoulder. “Why did you even bother to join this agency if all you ever do is complain about the jobs we get told to do, and the covers you get assigned?”

Of course, Kai knows exactly why Jongin does everything he does. It’s to prove that he always gets what he wants. At least, everything that Kai has ever desired. It’s not like Jongin actually likes the same things as his elder twin, he just wants to prove that he can take whatever it is that Kai wants for himself. Yet, whenever Kai points it out, no one believes him. Instead, they fall for Jongin’s little innocent act. Every. Single. Time.

To say Kai is frustrated would be an understatement. If he needed a new phone, Jongin’s always had to come first. If he wanted to follow a specific career path, Jongin did everything in his power to prove how much smarter, how much better he is at it than him.

The final straw had been you.

Kai had been smitten ever since he first laid his eyes on you in high school. Only, Jongin took notice of the fact of yet another person his twin had desired and made it his mission to get you first. Kai had lost many friends and lovers throughout the years because of this, but he thought you would be different. You had never played into Jongin’s tricks, so Kai couldn’t help but hope that finally, he could claim someone as his own. Someone who he had always desired above everyone else. Someone whom he loves.

That’s when the two of you announced you were getting married. With the same damn set of rings Kai had wanted to use to propose to you someday, too.

Kai had seen red that day, taking the most intensive and erotic bender of his entire life. It took him days to recover, and when he did, he was never the same man.

None of these other women were you. No one else mattered to him but you.

Yet, he couldn’t hurt you. No, never you. He couldn’t ruin your own happiness for his own selfish gains. Not like his brother. So, no matter how badly it pained him to watch you walk down that aisle in a dress he only ever dreamed you’d be wearing for him, he grinned and bared it. All because he loves you. More than anything.

The worst part? You don’t even realize how badly Jongin treats you. At least, in Kai’s opinion.

Jongin doesn’t bring you your favourite flowers on your birthday like he does. Jongin doesn’t remember your favourite take-out order when you’re feeling down. Hell, Jongin can’t even offer you the love that you have always deserved like Kai can.

If only you could see that, too.

Sitting within the boss’ office with his brother is tense, the elder woman leaning against her desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Her stern gaze looks over the both of them sharply, the usb they were required to use to hack the system of the banquet held firmly in her one hand.

“Do one of you want to tell me how this got destroyed?” Her tone is pointed, and they both know she won’t accept a bullshit answer.

A moment of silence before Jongin is letting out a loud sigh. “I told him to be more careful, but this idiot managed to crush it while subduing the waiter he was supposed to be impersonating.”

Kai’s nostril’s flare.

“You were the one that insisted that he take out the waiter instead so he could ‘keep an eye on his wife’. If I remember correctly.” He seethes, nothing but malice in his gaze as he glares at his brother.

“Jongin trusts his wife with his own life, why would he need to babysit one of our top two agents?” Their boss, Quincy, replies bluntly.

“Oh, is that what he told you?” Kai scoffs, sitting back in his seat as he rolls his eyes.

“I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of your attitude, Kai.” Her gaze sharpens, turning the full intensity of her heated glare onto him. “You may be the other half of our top two agents, but every day you push your luck.”

“If it weren’t for Jongin’s fuck up tonight, I wouldn’t have had to hack into the security mainframe manually, and we could have been out of there sooner.” Kai shifts in his seat once more, gripping the arms of his chair tightly beneath his fingers.

“Your purpose in these dual missions is to give each other an alibi should people start getting suspicious.” Quincy looks between the both of them, her lips pursed in a tight line. “We can’t keep your covers hidden if the both of you don’t cooperate. You’re brothers for crying out loud. Act like it.”

“I don’t know what you know about brotherly love, boss,” Jongin chuckles, “but we’ve never had it.”

“Then you better learn some before one of you ends up dead.” She huffs. “I know someone who would be devastated if they were to learn of at least one of your deaths.”

The pointed look she sends Jongin has a white hot fury flooding Kai’s veins at how unbothered his twin looks by this statement. Not only that, but a tightness begins welling inside his chest, heart aching at the truth behind those words.

He swallows thickly.

Just then, a knock sounds on the door. A second later, and you pop your head in, entering the room in a fresh pair of pants and a new shirt.

“Good. You’re here.” Quincy nods, pushing herself off of her desk and walking behind it so that she can take a seat. “Now, the three of you,” she looks between you all, “give me the rundown of your latest assignment.”

Stepping over beside Jongin, you perch yourself on the one arm of his chair as you meet Quincy’s gaze across from you.

“Target: William Darcey, eliminated.” You begin, pulling out a small pin no bigger than the size of a pill capsule. Leaning forward, you place the empty container on the edge of her desk. “The new toxin Jeremy developed works like a charm. Dropped dead within a minute of being administered, and looked like a seizure to boot.”

“Excellent.” She nods her approval. “As always, it’s what I expect from you, and you always deliver.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” You nod back, keeping your head tilted forward in gratitude for a moment longer.

“I expect none of you were discovered.” Briefly, she looks over all three of you.

“If we were, we are unaware of it.” Jongin answers her, his hand moving to settle on your lower back.

The way you lean into his touch has Kai tensing in his seat beside you.

“My moles haven’t heard anything. Darcey was pronounced dead at the banquet, by natural causes.” Quincy shuffles some papers on her desk. “The information Kai managed to hack gives us our final target. The man pulling the strings behind this entire operation we’re attempting to shut down. Already, our Zero Division has moved to rescue those who have been trafficked by Don Vanderleen. The rescue is underway as we speak.”

“Are operations running as usual?” You inquire, and you notice her eyes flash. You shrink in your spot, noticing the disappearance of Jongin’s comforting touch. Though, you’re not the only one that does. “My apologies, Ma’am. I should have known better.”

“Next time, don’t interrupt until I’m finished.” She places the papers in her hands rather firmly on top of her desk.

You can only avert your gaze to the floor as Kai shifts once more in his seat.

His fingers twitch, longing to comfort you like he knows his brother should be doing right now. Even if it’s as little as his hand on your back, he would offer you his support in any way he can, not take it away.

“As I was saying,” another sharp look is sent your way by Quincy, “in two days’ time, Don Vanderleen will be attending the ballet Swan Lake at the Holly Theatre. We have already reserved the booth seats for you and Jongin to attend with him. You’ll be covering as two private investors interested in his more personal affairs.” She looks at you when she says this, shifting her gaze to the man sitting to your left in the next second. “Kai, you are expected to perform the assassination from the rooftop through the large domed ceiling. We will not tolerate failure. Not when we’ve been working towards this goal for the past two years. It’s time we bring this warlord to justice.”

Immediately, the three of you are nodding your understanding, accepting the files she hands you from across her desk. Your alibis, new cover profiles, as well as all the information on who you’re going to be sitting with, interacting with, and how you will be acting are all included inside.

“Learn this inside and out,” Quincy states, leaning back in her chair and observing the three of you carefully. Then, she turns her sharp gaze towards both you and Jongin. “Tomorrow, you’ll be fitted for your outfits. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” You reply for the both of you.

“Until then,” she turns away from you to begin riffling through the one drawer of her desk. “Dismissed.”

The three of you do not need to be told twice. 

Standing, you all exit the room. Jongin leads, not even bothering to wait for you as Kai holds the door open. You smile slightly in thanks, and from that simply action alone, Kai can feel his heart attempting to beat right out of his chest. At least he knows that if anything were to happen, he will take much better care of you than his brother can.

Catching up with Jongin, you fall into step beside him. Casually, he wraps his arm around your waist, not even bothering to look in your direction as he does so.

Stopping in the main hall, you turn to face Kai once more.

“Thanks for covering for his ass tonight.” You meet Kai’s gaze as you poke Jongin in the side of the ribs. “I swear he’s never outgrown his baby stage.”

“Oh, so, you’ve noticed, too?” Kai quirks a brow, a grin tugging at his features.

“Hey!” Jongin whines, lips tugging downwards in a pout before pulling upwards in a smirk. Leaning in, he whispers in your ear loud enough for his brother to hear, “that’s not what you were saying last night.”

Kai’s jaw twitches, and he has to restrain himself from clocking his brother right in front of you at this very moment. He knows what Jongin is trying to do, and he won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing him snap.

“Jongin,” you hit his side, averting your gaze so sweetly as you do so.

If only Kai could make you react like that. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see you so bashful because of him. Him, and only him.

“Anyways,” you clear your throat, noticing how the elevator opens before you. Jongin must have called it while you weren’t looking. “We should get going, but did you need-“

“Come on, Darlin’,” Jongin tugs you into the elevator beside him. “I’ve had a long day, and I want to get home.”

You blink in mild shock, attempting to turn back towards Kai to finish offering him a ride home since you all drove in together this morning. Only, before another word can so much as leave you, Jongin is turning you towards himself and pressing his lips against your own as he cups your face.

The last thing Kai sees before the elevator doors close in his face is your surprised face before you’re completely melting into the kiss. The fact that he could just tell his brother had been watching his reaction out of the corner of his eyes sets his blood boiling.

Heading towards the stairs, Kai harshly slams the door open. His fists are clenched by his side as he begins to rush down them, the familiar burning of tears igniting behind his eyes. With how tight his jaw is clenched, he’s surprised his teeth don’t crack from the pressure.

Jongin is ruthless: dangling you in front of Kai like some toy. Viewing you as some grand prize to hold over his older brother every chance he gets. Only, that’s what Jongin doesn’t understand. You are not some toy. You are not an object to be owned and used as he pleases. 

That is what angers Kai the most. Jongin doesn’t even view you as a person, but simply another conquest that he can hold over his twin. A trophy to display whenever and however he wants, just to hurt Kai as much as possible.

If only you weren’t so blinded by your own emotions.

Emotions which shine clearly in your eyes as you pull away to stare deeply into Jongin’s own. The silence in the elevator is comforting, and the soft smile you see painting his features as he looks at you sets your heart racing.

You chuckle. “I wish you would stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He hums innocently, his arms once more wrapped around your waist, and holding you flush against him.

“Kissing me so suddenly,” you poke his chest lightly. “If you want to kiss me, just ask.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He grins, leaning in to peck your lips one more time.

You roll your eyes playfully as you hear the familiar chime of the elevator doors opening.

Stepping out, Jongin follows close behind, grabbing your hand in his own. He swings your arms gently between the both of you as you walk to the car, pulling the keys out of your pocket and unlocking it quickly. You part only to slide into the seats, hands immediately finding one another over the console once you’re both settled inside.

Jongin turns to you, a tender look in his eyes. “Stay with me until sunrise?”

You smile, heart warming at the secret code you made for each other ever since your wedding night. A code which lets you know that you not only love one another, but will stay with each other until the end of time.

“Only if we get to watch the sunset.”

Pulling out of the parking garage, you take off down the road. The drive home is quick, quaint in the silence that settles around the both of you. Yet, with the comforting way he squeezes your hand, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

***

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed.

Pulling yourself up and tossing off the covers, you’re quick to get ready for the day. Jongin must already be up and waiting for you, opting to have let you sleep in for a little while longer.

Once you reach the kitchen, you’re surprised to see no sight of Jongin waiting for you. Not even a note has been written for you in attempts to explain his whereabouts.

Your brow furrows in slight worry. He couldn’t have left without you already, right? It wouldn’t be extremely odd for him to; not completely out of the ordinary. The last time he did something like this though, was at the very beginning of your relationship. Back when you were still learning everything there was to know about each other.

After having a quick breakfast, you begin to make your way towards the agency. You hope beyond everything that Jongin is already there waiting for you, and not having decided to just up and disappear. You know that he hates fitting days, but you never thought he’d run out on you like this.

Stepping through the door to the clothing department reveals Nancy waiting patiently for you behind her desk. Her sewing machine whirs softly, a piece of fabric being pushed beneath the threaded needle.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” She calls, her glasses close to sliding right off her nose as she concentrates on the hemline she seems to be sewing.

“Take your time, Nance,” you call, already moving over to your usual fitting spot.

A soft sigh escapes you as you sit on the edge of the little pedestal in front of the three way mirror. Blankly, you stare at your reflection, leaning forward to rest your elbow on your knee. 

Jongin still hasn’t answered any of your calls or texts, and you’re getting a bit concerned. The last time he skipped out on fitting day for an upcoming mission, you thought Quincy was going to hang him by his toes off of the side of the building. You just hope he has a decent excuse this time.

The sound of the door opening behind you draws your attention just as you finally get a response from him.

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep voice sounds, and you lock eyes with who appears to be your husband in the mirror.

You glance down to read the message.

Had an emergency arise. Cover for me?

“Jongin!” Nancy exclaims, eyes lighting up with mirth as she finally finishes sewing that piece of fabric together. “You’re right on time! Come in, come in!”

He gives her a tight smile, before turning to face you.

“I was worried.” Your brow furrows slightly, a disappointed downturn of your lips as you stand to your feet.

“I know,” he grimaces slightly, playing the part of the remorseful husband well. “I’m sorry, Darling.”

You let out another sigh. “You’re here now.”

Nancy glances between the two of you curiously, a minor quirk to her brow. “Trouble in paradise? I’ve never seen you two act so cold.”

“We’re fine, Nance,” you reply quickly. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Alright,” she shoots you a skeptical look. “I’ve already got the outfits ready for you both, so you just sit tight and wait here.”

Scurrying off to the back, Nancy disappears from sight.

You can hear her fumbling around with some clothes, cursing as she drops something. A loud clatter is heard from behind the stacks of fabric, and you see some beads scatter across the floor.

“You okay, Nan?” You call out.

“Yeah!” She assures you, cursing a few more times under her breath as she shifts things around. “I’m just going to be another minute.”

You can hear her muttering to herself about finding where she put the matching vest as more shuffling occurs.

Taking this opportunity, you turn towards the male standing beside you, only to see him already staring at you.

“Thank you,” keeping your voice low, you lean into him subtly. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you notice that he blinks a few times, as if you’ve just pulled him out of his own thoughts. “For covering for him.”

“Yeah, well,” Kai lets out an exasperated breath, “you know my brother.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.” You tell him honestly. “I don’t know how you put up with his shit all the time.”

“He’s done this before?” His brow quirks, an irritated twitch to his lips.

“Fittings aren’t the only things he likes skipping out on from time to time.” You say, glancing down at the ground with a frown. “‘Emergency’ my ass.”

You swear you see Kai’s nostril’s flare, but before he gets a chance to reply, Nancy is returning with two separate outfits in her hands.

“Sorry I took so long, couldn’t find the one vest for the life of me.” She chuckles, handing each of you your respective outfits. “Change into these. and then I can finish any alterations you may need.”

Grabbing the garments from her hands, both you and Kai enter your respective changing rooms. Not even five minutes later, you both step out, moving to stand on each of the two pedestals in front of the mirrors.

A low whistle escapes you.

“I always knew you’d look good in red.” You comment, eying the finely tailored suit that hugs Kai’s figure delicately.

The bright crimson stretches from the jacket, all the way down to his slacks. Even the vest he wears beneath is the same colour, exposing the slightest bit of his chest as there doesn’t seem to be a shirt buttoned underneath. The fact that his hair sits that golden blond atop his head only adds to the look, his honeyed skin practically glowing despite the harshness of the artificial lights.

Kai absolutely revels in your gaze. His breath hitches slightly as he sees you give him a few glances from head to toe, a shiver caressing his spine as he notices the corner of your lips twitching upwards. He knows you’re probably only picturing what Jongin will look like in such an outfit, but like hell is he letting anyone take this moment from him.

Finally, you are gazing at him just as he always knows he looks at you, and right now is no exception.

There you stand, in a gorgeous golden gown which accentuates every sinful curve of your body. A slit rests on the left side of the dress, following your leg upwards until about mid-thigh, allowing for ample movement in case things go south. Either way, you look absolutely radiant, and Kai curses his brother for being stupid enough to miss this.

He should be here, worshipping the very ground you walk on. Not fucking off on some random trip just cause he’s throwing a tantrum over fitting day.

“You look…” the words get caught in his throat as you meet his gaze, his breath hitching once more. He blinks, clearing his throat, “stunning.”

A soft smile graces your features as you avert your gaze, and if Kai didn’t know any better, he’d say he just made you shy.

His heart warms. Finally, he can say that he was the cause of your bashful reaction. Him, and him alone.

“Are you sure these outfits aren’t too…” you turn towards Nancy, “loud?”

“Yours? No.” She shakes her head. “His? Maybe.”

A chuckle escapes the woman’s mouth as you nod.

“I just remember you saying how you would love to see your husband in a bright red someday, that preferably isn’t blood.” She winks. “Though, I’m just surprised he didn’t fight you on it like he usually does. Equally surprised he didn’t complain this time around.”

You and Kai share a look.

“I simply decided that maybe I should listen to my beautiful wife for once.” Kai answers smoothy. “She’s usually right, after all.”

“Oh?” Nancy quirks her brow at this. “She finally smack some sense into your whiny ass?”

“I did no such thing!” You gasp, as if you’re truly scandalized by her words. Only, the playful wink you offer her immediately after has grins pulling at all of your faces.

“I just finally realized that I should appreciate the woman I love more often.” 

There is nothing but sincerely within his gaze as he looks at you when he says this. An intensity you almost long for from another male who looks exactly like him.

A puff of air escapes you, shaking your head lightly. “You always were the hopeless romantic.”

“For you?” He hums, turning back to face the mirror as he straightens out his blazer. “Always.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Nancy feign gagging.

“Bleck! Will you two stop being so lovey-dovey?” Her nose scrunches as she moves over to you to fix the hem of your skirt slightly. “It’s seriously gross.”

“You think this is us being lovey-dovey?” You snort out a laugh, the corner of your lips twitching upwards knowingly. You lift your head to meet Kai’s gaze, a playful roll to your eyes. “Oh, Honey, you’re just so sweet. I cannot bear to call you anything but.”

Kai shares a laugh with you, despite the way his heart races inside of his chest from your words. Sure, you may not mean it, but he’ll cherish this moment for as long as he can. After all, your words mean more to him that you’ll ever know.

“But, My Darling,” the grin that stretches across his features is nothing short of sultry, “you know that nothing can compare to your beauty. It’s enough to rival even the deepest of oceans, and highest of mountains, for it is eternal in the ways you captivate me.”

You both share another laugh, though this time, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Okay, now you’re just rubbing it in.” Nancy sighs, shooting an almost longing glance towards who she thinks is your husband. 

A glance which you immediately pick up on. 

You tense. 

“I wish someone would speak to me like that. Maybe I should flirt with you brother more often. See if he has as silvered a tongue as you, Jongin.” Nancy darts her gaze over at the male briefly before focussing back in on the task at hand.

Thank fuck Nancy is too busy hemming your skirt to look up to see the way Kai cannot hide the grimace that pulls onto his face at her words.

“You shouldn’t use him like that, Nancy. Kai is a gentleman, and you shouldn’t joke about getting him to do what you want. He doesn’t deserve that, and I don’t think he’s in the market anyways.” You state, rather casually as you smooth out the front of your dress. “Besides, aren’t you married.”

The judgement is clear on your features as you meet her gaze in the mirror. Lightly, you shake your head in disproval.

“A girl can dream.” Nancy sighs, her gaze once more flicking over at the male to your right.

“If you’re that unhappy in your marriage, Nance, you should probably get a divorce.” You say, a hint of concern now shining in your eyes. “To even imply you would cheat-“

“It was just a joke, sweetie,” she huffs, rolling her eyes a bit exasperatedly. “Lighten up.”

You purse your lips, letting out a long sigh through your nose.

“Jokes are meant to be funny.” 

Nancy shoots an incredulous look towards the male standing to your right.

“Geez,” she huffs, “didn’t realize you’d be so sensitive about your brother.”

The two of you share a look.

“Anyways, you’re probably right about the red being too loud for the ballet.” Nancy sighs, standing back to her feet. A second later, and she’s disappeared around the stacks of fabric only to reemerge holding a standard black suit and tie. “Change into this instead.”

Seamlessly, she hands the male the new outfit before he disappears back inside the change room. 

Once the curtain has slid closed, she leans into you, “Don’t worry. I’ll pack that little red ensemble for you separately.”

You quirk a small smile, somewhat sadly, “Thanks, Nance.”

A minute later, and Kai is stepping out in the muted suit, looking just as fine as he did in the red one.

“Your husband can certainly pull off anything he wants.” Nancy chuckles, a certain spark shining within her eyes that you don’t particularly like.

You simply quirk a tight smile in response as you step in to ‘adjust’ his tie.

“I think you’re negating the true beauty in the room.” He replies effortlessly, gaze locked with your own.

Your breath hitches, freezing right in your spot as you search his features. The sincerity alone that you can see shining within his eyes has your heart fluttering.

You turn away, clearing your throat. “So, should these be ready by tonight, or tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll have them ready for tonight. That way if you need to make any last minute alterations before the mission tomorrow we can do so then.” Nancy tells you, seeing you nod your understanding. “Kai will be in the same outfit as Jongin in case he gets spotted, only with a black button up to blend in better with the night.”

This time, you both nod your understanding. Of course, Nancy fails to see the way the two of you lock gazes.

You let out another sigh. 

“Well,” you step back into the change room, “better prepare for tomorrow.”

Sliding the curtain back over the rail, you slip out of the dress and back into your regular clothes. The moment you step back out, you’re handing the golden gown back to Nancy, thanking her lowly again. You notice Kai has also taken the liberty to change, handing the aforementioned female his brother’s outfit once more.

“I’ll be by later to pick them up,” you say, seeing her nod her head as she retreats back to her sewing machine for the moment.

Without another word, the two of you leave the room.

The walk to the elevators is silent, a sort of tension filling the air between the both of you. A tension which finally boils to a head when the elevator doors open to reveal Jongin laughing along with Shinobu inside. Her one hand playfully smacks his shoulder as her other covers her lower face, attempting to stifle her giggles as he grins widely. A faint blush creeps up her cheeks, her eyes shining with clear affection towards your husband.

Kai swears he sees red as he stands there, just as stiff as you as you both witness the scene before your very eyes.

Noticing the sudden tension around them, both Shinobu and Jongin turn their heads to see you and Kai standing there. Your expression remains unreadable, steeling your nerves as you step into the elevator with a curt nod to the other female. Kai, on the other hand, can barely control the shaking of his hands in anger.

The moment Shinobu scurries from the elevator, Kai is closing the distance between himself and his twin. His arm is pressed harshly across Jongin’s chest as he pins his younger brother to the back wall. 

The elevator doors slide closed.

“The fuck was that all about?” Kai hisses lowly. “Bailing on your wife to fucking flirt with your coworker? On fitting day, no less? Was that your fucking emergency?”

“Kai-“

Your somewhat exasperated reply gets cut off by Jongin shoving his twin off of him.

“You think I would be the one to cheat?” Jongin’s eyes widen slightly, his tone incredulous. “We just so happened to step into the elevator at the same time. Why are you always so adamant on finding something that isn’t there?”

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a fucking asshole, and treated you wife properly, I wouldn’t have to.” Kai spits, nothing but pure fury reflected in his gaze.

You can tell Jongin is about to reply, but your hands firmly pushing them apart stop him from going any further. You step between them, further separating the fire that continues to rage on between the two brothers.

“Enough.” You look from one male to the other. “We have a mission tomorrow, and the last thing we need is for you two to be at each other’s throats more so than usual.”

A brief silence where the tension crackles in the air like lightning before Kai is heaving a tremendous sigh.

“She’s right.” He takes a reluctant step back. “You should listen to your wife more often, it might just save your life.”

“Are you threatening me?” Jongin’s eyes are wild as he tilts his head at his brother.

“If you feel threatened, then by all means,” Kai gestures loosely towards Jongin.

Jongin’s lip part in retort before your sharp gaze is causing the words to catch in his throat. You turn to Kai.

“Thanks for covering for him today.” You say. “Him and I need to have a talk on the way home. See you tomorrow for the mission.”

Without another word, you’re hitting the button to open the elevator doors, a silent command for Kai to leave you and Jongin alone.

Reluctantly, the male exits the elevator, watching the doors close behind him with a look of pure irritation on his features. Irritation aimed directly at his twin, who only looks annoyed at this specific turn of events.

Clicking his tongue, Kai turns around. There’s not much for him to do for the moment, so he might as well release his anger doing something productive.

Heading to the shooting range, Kai rolls his shoulders. At least this way he can kill two birds with one stone: practice for the assassination tomorrow evening, and pretend he’s making his brother suffer as much as Jongin has made him throughout the years.

Oh, how Kai longs for the day where he can see that complete look of devastation wipe that smug grin from Jongin’s features. He’s fantasized how it would happen more times than he can count. The biggest being a scenario where you end up in his arms while Jongin is forced to reap the consequences of his actions. With how things are going, perhaps such a dream may come true sooner, rather than late.

Kai sighs, pulling out his favourite sniper rifle from the cage. At least once he’s done here he can prepare everything for tomorrow. After all, he never misses.

Meanwhile, back in the elevator, a tense silence settles over both you and Jongin as you ride down to the parking garage. Your arms are crossed over your chest as you refuse to so much as turn in your husband’s direction. The moment that familiar ding chimes and the doors open, you’re walking over to your car, an unreadable expression on your face.

“Come on, Darlin’,” Jongin flicks his bangs out his eyes, a look of annoyance on his features. “You seriously can’t be mad at me right now.”

“And why is that, Jongin?” You round on him, nothing but bitterness shining in your eyes as you stare at him from overtop of the car. “You left before sunrise, on a day where you knew we had somewhere to be. I understand you dislike fitting days, but do you realize what would have happened if you had been caught skipping again? Our line of work is already dangerous without having our own agency breathing down our necks and watching our every move. Do you want to be put on lockdown again?”

“We won’t be put on lockdown, again.” He sighs, exasperatedly while sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Besides, Kai handled it just fine.”

Your nostrils flare as you move to sit in the drivers seat, slamming the door closed and pointedly starting the engine. “I’m lucky your brother even showed up.”

“Next time, you should just text him. He always seems to be at your beck and call, anyways.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, no.” You shoot him a glare out of the corner of your eyes as you pull out of the parking garage. “You don’t get to pull the jealous card here.”

“Me? Jealous of my brother?” Jongin nearly scoffs. “As if he would ever have a chance with you.”

“I don’t know, he looked remarkable in red.” You comment lowly, noticing how he stiffens almost immediately from your words. “Quite slick with his tongue, too.”

“How dare you-“

“You honest to god think I would ever cheat on you, Jongin?” Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you merge onto the highway. “After everything I’ve told you that happened with my parents? On how I feel about the matter? You think I would be capable of inflicting that type of pain on a person I love?”

“Well, when you say things like that…”

“How do you think it makes me feel to see you arrive late to work with Shinobu of all people after you run out on me claiming there’s some ‘emergency’ you have to take care of?” You counter, noticing how he averts his gaze in shame in the next second. “Do you have any idea how that looks, not just to me, but to anyone aware of the situation? I know for a fact you claimed ‘emergency’ just because you don’t want to deal with Nancy’s subtle flirtations with you. I don’t blame you for being uncomfortable around her, but the least you could do is tell me where you are. I’m your goddamn wife for fuck’s sake! You think I don’t notice when my own husband is both being hit on, and is uncomfortable by it?”

“Then, why don’t you say anything to her?” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do!” You exclaim, voice rising in pitch slightly. “I have, and when I did, you were the one who got mad at me for bringing it up!”

Of course, he didn’t get mad at you in front of her. Only once you were behind closed doors did he say to lay off of Nancy. Turns out your husband rather enjoys the attention, more so than the discomfort it causes him. Which is why you found Kai’s reassurance today, even if it was something as simple as backing you up while pretending to be your husband, so refreshing.

Before he can respond, you’re letting out a sigh through your nose. “Either way, it looks like you don’t have to worry about her flirting with you anymore. It seems as if she’s moving on to target your brother.”

“You say that as if it bothers you.” He mumbles lowly, refusing to meet your gaze as you pull off of the highway.

“Does it not bother you?” You cannot hide how appalled you sound. “He’s your brother, for god’s sake, Jongin! Kai deserves better than that, and you know it!”

“Then, why didn’t you marry him?” He snaps, slapping his hands onto his thighs in exasperation.

You go quiet, the silence deafening inside of the car.

You swallow thickly, keeping your voice low, “Because he’s not the one I fell in love with.”

You can feel him staring at you through the stillness that settles around the both of you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” His voice is low, averting his gaze back down to his lap.

“Well, I do.” You reply quite sharply. “I know you’ve always been insecure about your brother, Jongin. It’s just not fair that you take it out on me.”

He remains quiet for the rest of the drive, still staring down at his hands.

You’re right. He knows you’re right. He’s just too proud to admit it.

Kai has always been the better twin. Smarter, funnier, more popular. Jongin cannot help but get jealous, even if he hates to admit that he does. Everything Jongin does, he does for approval, but all it seems to do is irritate Kai. He thought that following in his brother’s footsteps would make the elder like him more, but no matter what he does, he can never seem to win. 

And now he’s pulled you into that mess.

The moment the car stills in the driveway, Jongin is stepping out wordlessly. He can hear the low sigh you let out behind him as he moves to unlock the front door. Only, it seems as if he’s misplaced his keys again.

You heave another sigh, louder this time as you pull out your own keys to unlock the front door. Once inside, the two of you each head your separate ways.

The rest of the afternoon and evening is spent like this, a tense sort of silence between the both of you. Sure, you’ve had fights before, but never anything like this. You know Kai has always been a touchy subject for Jongin, but he’s never gone so far as to avoid you when you bring him up. Perhaps you should talk to him after you get back from picking up your outfits for tomorrow.

Only, when you step back through the door, Jongin has up and disappeared on you again. At least this time he left a note.

Needed to sort out my head. Be back in time for mission.

Letting out a sigh, you retreat to your bedroom. You might as well get as much sleep as you can before tomorrow. You have a feeling you’re going to need it.

***

Jongin doesn’t return home until an hour before you’re supposed to leave for the ballet. He walks in to see you pacing near the front, already dressed and ready for the evening assassination.

You can see the words forming on his lips, but you raise a hand into the air to stop him. “Save it. You need to get ready.”

A solemn nod is all you receive in response as Jongin retreats to the bedroom. Not even forty minutes later, he reappears, fully dressed and ready to go. 

The button up he wears beneath his open blazer is slightly larger than it should be, the white material spilling out further than it should where it’s tucked into his pants. He struggles to fix it, and you can only click your tongue in response. Nancy adjusted his outfit based on Kai’s measurements yesterday, and Jongin’s brother just so happens to be the slightest bit buffer than he is.

The clothes still fit, just not as well as they should.

Looking upwards, you finally meet his gaze.

“I won’t ask you where you’ve been.” Your first real words to him since he’s gotten back. “Whatever you needed to sort out was your business. Just-“ you let out a somewhat sad sigh, “if this isn’t working out for you anymore, Jongin, all I ask is that you don’t string me along.”

Immediately, he’s shaking his head, closing the distance between the both of you in order to take your hands gently into his.

“I-“

The front door opens, and in steps Kai.

You drop Jongin’s hands. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Kai’s brow quirks, gaze darting between the both of you, “Am I interrupting something?”

Jongin is quick to recover, the corner of his lips quirking upwards as he huffs out a laugh, “Nothing of importance.”

He fails to see the way your entire demeanour falls, but Kai doesn’t. However, before the elder male can so much as ask if you’re okay, you’re walking past him.

“Let’s get this over with.” You mumble, grabbing your clutch from the front table and heading out the door.

Kai spares a brief glance over to his brother, of whom simply shrugs in response.

Letting out a deep sigh, Kai is quick to follow right behind you, shaking his head the whole while. Looks like his brother royally screwed up again, and of course, Kai will have to do damage control to clean up his mess.

As Jongin locks up, Kai takes this time to subtly lean into you.

“You look gorgeous, by the way.” He keeps his tone low, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as his eyes roam your figure.

You smile lightly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Jongin’s pointed huff draws both of your attention. “Let’s go.”

Silently, Kai watches as you both slide into the backseat of his car. He’s supposed to act as your chauffeur this evening, and drop you off at the venue before finding a place to safely park the car and assume his position. He just hopes you can all last the night.

About halfway through the drive, you get a call from Quincy.

“Have you heard the news?” Her gruff voice sounds through the speakers of your phone, allowing the two males to hear the conversation at her instruction.

“What news?” Kai’s brow furrows.

“Both Shinobu and Nancy were found dead in their homes this morning.” She says, and you cannot prevent the way your breath hitches in your throat. “We suspect it was Don Vanderleen’s men sending a warning to us before the events of tonight. You three be extra careful, and make sure you don’t fuck this up. The last thing we need is more of our good agents being taken down.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply is somewhat breathless as she soon ends the call.

A heavy silence permeates the air between the three of you as you get closer to the theatre. The news is both sudden and shocking, causing your blood to run cold. You might not actually be prepared for what you’ve just gotten yourself into.

“Are you okay?” Jongin stares intently at you, reaching over to place a gentle hand over your own in your lap.

“Yeah.” You blink, seemingly focussing back in on the reality around you. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You fail to see the worried glance Kai sends you through the rearview mirror. Though, there’s something else hidden there, too. Something far more sinister than either of you two realize as his gaze shifts to the male offering you comforts from beside you.

“We’re almost there,” Kai states, somewhat roughly.

He clears his throat.

“The sooner we get this done, the better.” You sigh, eyes falling shut as you run a hand lightly over the side of your face. “Remember, if anything goes wrong, we rendezvous at the hotel across the street.”

“Right.” Both males respond at the same time, firmly nodding their heads once each.

Pulling up just outside of the theatre, you exhale a breath through your nose. Steeling your features into a look of determination, you motion for Jongin to exit the car.

“Let’s do this.”

The moment the car door opens, you can tell that Jongin has slipped into his persona for the evening. As he reaches back to help you exit the vehicle, you immediately do the same.

No longer are you both mister and missus Kim, but the Rover’s. Two souls madly in love with one another to the point of it becoming obnoxious to the people around you. People cannot help but to notice how you cling onto one another, giving you each the perfect alibi for when the time comes. You are to be inseparable. At least, to those around you.

Jongin is quick to wrap his arm around your waist as soon as you move to stand beside him. His touch is nothing but gentle, thumb smoothing over the material of your dress as he guides you inside. Each step is meticulous, your eyes subtly scanning the crowd for potential targets, security, and escapes routes. You all may have planned for this evening, but that doesn’t mean something couldn’t go very wrong.

Stepping up to the entrance, Jongin is quick to pull the two tickets reserved for the both of you out of the inside of his suit jacket. Wordlessly, he hands them to the concierge, whispering lowly how excited he is to spend the night with his beautiful wife.

You giggle at this, leaning in to him and placing a hand on his chest. Your own reply is low as you tell him it’s because you’re finally able to spend some time with your handsome husband that you’re able to look this good for him.

The way the concierge smiles tightly at you both while handing you both your tickets says it all. At least the act is believable.

“Enjoy the show.” He comments lowly, eyes pleading for the two of you to hurry inside.

“Oh, believe me,” your painted lips curl upwards in a sultry grin. “We will.”

You swear that were the poor man not working, he would have gagged at the way you giggle after your own words. You can tell he’s relieved to be rid of you as he holds the door open for the both of you to slip inside, nearly chuckling to yourself at his tight expression as soon as you’re passed him.

Jongin’s grip tightens slightly around your waist.

“There he is.” He leans in once more to whisper lowly in your ear, motioning to the side with his chin.

Shifting your gaze, you follow in the direction he’s pointed you in. A blink, and you see your target standing by the complimentary bar. A glass of wine rests in his grubby hands, high profile women and men surrounding him on either side. A boisterous laugh escapes him, his dark hair slicked back with grease as a wolfish grin tugs at his lips. Even from here, you can see the sheen of sweat that paints his flushed skin, and you nearly gag.

“I just hope I don’t get a single drop of that man’s vile blood on me tonight, but I know that’s just wishful thinking.” You mutter, disgust pulling at your features.

“You and me both, Darlin’.” Jongin replies, holding you tighter against him. “Are you ready?”

“If we didn’t have to interact with him all night, I would count myself blessed.” You exhale sharply through your nose. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jongin squeezes your waist reassuringly as he begins to lead you both over to that group of investors surrounding Don Vanderleen. A group which your agency painstakingly infiltrated to make both you and Jongin a part of as the Rover’s.

“Good evening, Mister Vanderleen,” you cut in smoothly into the conversation, drawing everybody’s attention as you extend your hand out for him to shake. “It’s an honour to make your acquaintance.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, and immediately he’s reaching out to grasp your hand in his own. Only, instead of shaking it, he brings the back up to his lips, placing what you’re sure is supposed to be a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You nearly grimace at the moist feeling left lingering on your hand, resisting the urge to wipe off the residue of the kiss this vile excuse of a man has given you. Hell, even Jongin tenses beside you.

“Ah, yes,” he hums, nodding firmly in Jongin’s direction. “You must be the Rover’s. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” Jongin replies, forcing a polite smile onto his lips.

“Once my dear hubby told me about the opportunities our investments could lead to with you, I couldn’t wait to meet you.” Your voice portrays the perfect mix of both enthusiasm and excitement. “He said you’d have further information for us on what this grants us in shares tonight?”

Vanderleen laughs at this, his whole chest shaking as the people around you all chuckle.

“Someone’s a little eager lily,” he grins, but it only serves to make you feel unnerved. You don’t particularly enjoy the way he continues to eye you up and down, licking his lips as if he is ready to consume you at any moment. “I promise to let both you and your husband know everything you need to know when the time is right, little missy. Preferably when we’re somewhere a little more private.”

You smile your understanding, even if it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Still, it’s enough to fool the people standing around you.

You both fall into idle smalltalk after that, conversing with the rest of his supposed investors for the evening. That is, until the doors open, and everyone is filing into their respective seats.

Jongin and you follow Don Vanderleen all the way up to the special booth that has been reserved for you this evening. Only you, your husband, your target, and three others of Vanderleen’s party have been reserved for this balcony, making it much easier for you, Jongin, and Kai to do what you’ve come here to do.

The six seats rest three to a row, you and Jongin in front, while Vanderleen’s men file in the back. Unfortunately for you, the man of the hour decides to sit on your left, and he doesn’t seem to be that big of a fan of personal space.

The only thing separating you from the male beside you is the armrest, and you choose to angle yourself as far away from him as possible without drawing suspicion to yourself. Of course, with your covers, it’s easy for you to lean as close to Jongin as possible. It simply appears as you being unequivocally in love with him, but it becomes increasingly difficult not to twitch each time the man on your left ‘accidentally’ brushes against you in some way.

Clearing your throat, you steel yourself for talking to this man once more.

“We’re somewhere more private now, Sir Vanderleen,” you comment. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Please,” he leans in closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol clinging to his rancid breath. You nearly gag. “Call me Don.”

“Alright then,” you smile politely, eyes crinkling, “Don.”

You swear you see the man shiver before you.

“Well, as you know, my company handles many different aspects of many different industries.” The moment he sees you nod eagerly, he continues, “my business covers every domain you could possibly imagine: finances, political influences,” he purposely meets your gaze, “pleasure.”

You cannot prevent the way your eyes widen naturally at this.

“Ah, I see that has caught your interest.” He chuckles, his hand resting dangerously close to you on the armrest as his fingers curl around the wood. “I suppose I could let you in on the more private aspects of our company later on. After all, you seem like a very respectable woman who knows what she wants.”

“She certainly doesn’t take things for granted,” Jongin chimes in, his arm casually settling around your shoulders as he pulls you the slightest bit closer to him. “Unlike some people.”

Something within the other male’s eyes flash, but he backs off. For now.

“I see,” he hums, settling back into his seat. “I suppose that conversation will have to wait for a different time, then.”

The lights begin to dim, the orchestra picking up their instruments in preparation for the beginning of the show.

“I suppose so.” You hum, turning your attention to the front as you settle further into Jongin’s side.

It’s almost time.

The curtain rises, and the true event finally begins.

Near the end of act one, Jongin excuses himself to the men’s room just as planned. Only, you don’t expect Don Vanderleen to take this opportunity to lean further into you.

Casually, the male replaces where Jongin’s arm had been with his own, his wandering fingers dancing along the skin of your shoulder.

You nearly shiver in disgust.

“I’d say this is more private, wouldn’t you?” He grins, keeping his voice low as he closes the remaining distance between your bodies. “Perfect timing to talk about more personal matters, if you’d like.”

No, what you’d like is to continue watching the ballet. You wish for Jongin to hurry the fuck up with clearing out Vanderleen’s bodyguards from the booth, and to get as far away from this man before the bullets start flying. However, you know that that’s not what you came here to do. You nearly sigh, putting on an expression of pure curiosity instead as you turn to face the male beside you.

“Of course,” you reply, just as lowly. “I would like nothing more.”

“This one aspect is very dear to me, I hardly tell anyone about it unless I consider them truly worthy to hear it.” He meets your gaze, a sort of lull in the way he speaks to you, as if he were speaking to a child. “What I tell you stays between us, alright little missy? This is for your ears only.”

You nod your understanding, fingers tightening over one another as you hold them stiffly in your lap.

“You see, I only offer these positions to the utmost important people who have proved they are qualified to suit my needs.” He licks his lips, gaze shamelessly roaming down your front. “It’s a personal position which guarantees you’ll never have to worry about another thing in your life.”

You have to prevent yourself from clenching your teeth in anger. You know exactly where this is leading, for this is the exact same spiel he tells all the women he tricks into signing themselves over to him to be trafficked.

“You would be living a life of complete luxury, moving from one place to another, and visiting countries of your wildest dreams.” He continues, creeping closer with each word. “You would meet so many important dignitaries. Everyone would want to be you, and everyone would desire what you have.”

“Why, this offer sounds almost too good to refuse,” you chuckle, somewhat nervously.

Jongin sure is taking his sweet time. He should be back by now, right?

“You would be foolish not to accept.” He chuckles along with you. “After all, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again. I’d take care of all of it for you, and I’m a man who never goes back on my word.” His free hand comes to settle on your knee, and this time, you cannot prevent the shiver of disgust that trails down your spine. Only, he perceives it as something else. You can just tell from the way that he smirks. “Especially not when you’d be personally working for me.”

You absolutely despise the way he drawls those words out, his rancid breath tickling the shell of your ear.

Luckily, it’s at this point that Jongin finally returns, taking note of how stiff you sit while Don Vanderleen practically drapes himself over you.

Harshly, he clears his throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

Vanderleen smirks, pulling away from you rather slowly, “Not at all.”

“Don was just telling me all about a special opportunity he had for me,” you say innocently as Jongin sits back in his seat to your right.

You notice both males stiffen on either side of you.

“Missy, I thought we agreed that that was to stay between us.” There’s a sudden sharpness to his gaze that you do not fail to pick up on.

“Yes, but I don’t do anything without my loving husband.” You chuckle, leaning yourself further into Jongin’s side. Your gaze darts to him, and your eyes nearly widen at the small stain of red that smudges the collar of his white shirt. Thinking quickly, you angle yourself into him, lips pressing delicately against the material and leaving a bright red lipstick stain over the mark. You blink up at him innocently. “Isn’t that right, My Love.”

“Always, My Love.” Jongin purposefully meets Vanderleen’s gaze from over the top of your head as his arms pull you in closer. “I’m sure you’d do the same to protect what’s yours.”

Vanderleen’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance. “Undoubtably.”

The moment the male turns back to observe the stage, all hell breaks loose.

The sound of shattering glass is synonymous with the screams of terror that suddenly fill the venue as gunshots ring throughout. People panicking and running from their seats to the exits block every chance of escape, swarming the aisle as shouting reaches your ears.

A bullet just misses your shoulder.

A loud cry of pain from your left reaches your ears, and in the blink of an eye, you feel yourself be pulled down onto the ground on top of a body. Sparing a glance downwards reveals your husband clinging to your for dear life, a fear unlike ever before shining within his gaze. Blood seeps into the material of his blazer, staining his white shirt red beneath his black suit as he holds you above him. 

To the side, Don Vanderleen bleeds out. A cough escapes him, nothing but red falling from his lips and choking him out as he reaches towards you one final time before falling dead right before your very eyes.

Another gunshot is heard from above.

Scrambling to your feet, you duck for cover behind the wall of the balcony. Jongin follows right behind, using his body as a shield to cover you this time.

“Are you hurt?” He turns to you once you’re both out of range, checking you over for injuries.

You shake your head. “Are you?”

Your eyes catch on the red now staining his clothes and your breath hitches, hands scrambling to find the injury before he bleeds out.

“Don’t worry, Darlin’,” he assures you, gently stroking his hands down the sides of your arms despite the chaos erupting around you. “It’s not mine.”

His words only help to ease your worry a fraction.

“There was another sniper.” You comment lowly.

“Kai can handle it.” He states.

At the look you send him, he sighs.

“Fine.” Jongin removes his blazer, wrapping it securely around your shoulders. “You’ve done what you came here to do. I’ll go check on him, and then I’ll meet you at the hotel across the street. Okay?”

“But-“

“Darlin’,” there’s that same look of fear in his eyes from only a few minutes ago, “I almost lost you tonight. Don’t make me go through that again.”

A silent understanding passes between the both of you, and you recognize that he’s not just referring to tonight, but yesterday as well. That fight feels like so long ago now, given the circumstances of the evening. Yet, you still find yourself nodding your head.

“I promise to be as quick as I can.” He kisses your forehead briefly.

“Be safe,” you squeeze his hands gently. “I want to be able to watch the sunset with you.”

He smiles. “As long as you stay with me for the sunrise.”

A nod is all he receives from you before he’s disappearing around the corner. He can feel his heart pounding as he races to the roof, hoping beyond everything that you manage to get out safely, and that his brother is okay.

***

Looking back on it now, this is probably the second worst night of Kai’s entire life. Sure, the male has been in some tricky situations before, but none as harrowing as this one.

First, he had to watch you be even more loving towards his brother all evening. Then, he had to sit through that filth of a man coming onto you throughout the entirety of the second act of Swan Lake. He was so distracted by his anger, that he failed to see the second presence creeping onto the roof a little ways away from him. It wasn’t until he saw the reflection of the lights upon the sniper’s watch that Kai noticed the other male taking aim directly at you.

Kai saw red, his body moving on instinct at that. It nearly cost him the mission, but more importantly, your life.

What made the situation worse was when he watched his brother pull you on top of himself for protection. The bastard couldn’t even protect you properly, opting to sacrifice you to save himself.

Now, as he wrestles off the other sniper’s back-up, he finds himself gritting his teeth in frustration. He has no idea if you got out safely, or if you’re injured. The only thing he does know, is that that bastard Don Vanderleen is finally dead.

Like hell Kai would ever let that pathetic excuse of a human live after watching what he did to you tonight.

A gunshot sounds in the night air, and Kai swears he’s about to feel the worst pain of his life. Only, at the way the man on top of him falls limply to his side, he realizes that someone is here to aid him.

“Couldn’t handle a few measly little troopers?” Jongin’s familiar mocking tone calls out through the silence. “You’re losing your touch.”

“I was doing just fine until you showed up.” Kai responds gruffly, pushing himself back to his feet and noticing all of the other henchmen have been disposed of.

“Uh-huh,” Jongin hums knowingly, a quirk to his brow as he tosses the gun in his hand to the side. “Sure.”

Kai spares a glance at his brother, noticing the blood that stains his once pure white shirt. He freezes, eyes locking on that mark of bright red lipstick that practically glares at him from the collar of Jongin’s shirt.

“Is that-“ the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows.

At the way his elder twin keeps glancing at the blood on his shirt, Jongin is quick to understand what he’s asking.

“I know, right?” Jongin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Disgusting. The bastard bled all over me.”

Kai nearly lunges at his brother, but he realizes Jongin isn’t actually talking about you. He clears his throat. “And our partner?”

“My wife is fine, thanks for asking.” Jongin replies, a dry huff escaping him. “You nearly missed by the way.”

“Yeah, well, I had my hands full.” Kai begins to quickly disassemble his rifle, storing it back in its case.

“Didn’t think a few weaklings like this could slow you down.” Jongin rolls his eyes.

“I was a little busy attempting not to blow the fucker’s brains out early for assaulting your wife.” Kai snaps, his patience growing thinner by the second. “While you were off eyeing the ballerinas, I was actually doing my job.”

“You think I would risk the mission to go peep on the performers?” Jongin’s voice is incredulous. “You really think I would cheat on my wife?” 

“Now that your other two hustles are dead, I assumed you were in the market for a new one.” Kai retorts, zipping up his rifle’s case quite pointedly before slinging it onto his back.

“Never thought you’d be one to disrespect the dead, but here we are.” Jongin shakes his head. “You are so adamant on making me into the bad guy, Kai, and I just don’t understand why.”

“How can I make you into something you already are?” Kai tilts his head, almost mockingly at his brother.

“What do you think I could have possibly done this time?” Jongin replies, throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly.

“I definitely didn’t think up you pulling your own goddamn wife on top of you when bullets started flying just so you could save your own skin!” Kai’s tone is harsh, nothing but pure anger pulling at his brow. “How about that conversation I walked in on tonight. Did you or did you not practically admit to her that she was unimportant? To your own wife, nonetheless. Not to mention the countless times you’ve ignored her needs in favour of your own. Do you even know how she feels when you flirt so openly with other people around her? I can’t imagine it feels good.”

“You know nothing, Kai,” Jongin seethes, his hands clenching into fists beside him. “Stop pretending that you do.”

“Don’t I?” Kai drops his bags, the material making a dull thunk as it hits the roof. “I’ve lived with you our whole lives, Jongin. I know when you’re lying, and I know for a fact that you don’t love her. If you did, you wouldn’t do half the shit that you do.”

“How dare you say that I don’t love her!” Jongin spits back, voice low and deadly. His eyes flash with the same intensity as his brother’s across from him, the air becoming thick with tension. “I love her more than anything in this godforsaken world!”

“Like hell you do!” Kai’s fury spikes, sanity close to snapping.

“What would you know of the matter? You don’t know half the shit I’ve done for her.” Jongin hisses through gritted teeth. “I made sure to kill every fucking doubt she’s had about our relationship recently. Doubts you don’t know anything about. There’s nothing, no one in this world that loves her more than I do. I would do anything for her, and that’s more than you can say.”

Kai goes so still, he swears that he’s stopped breathing. His mind races with all that tonight has offered him. Not even a second later, his entire body begins to tremble.

“You’re wrong.” His voice is low, deadly like the approach of an oncoming storm. Already, he can see his vision blurring, fading in and out as he attempts to ground himself. “There will always be one person who will love her, who can always love her, more.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jongin scoffs, crossing his arms in front of her chest. “And just who might that be?”

A beat of silence as the two males lock eyes from across the roof.

“Me.”

Without wasting another thought, the two males lunge.

***

His breathing is uneven as he stumbles down the hallway of the hotel. The stairs were a bit of a challenge, but he figured it’d be easier and less conspicuous than taking the elevator to the top floor. Even still, his lungs burn as he braces himself against the wall, chest heaving with every breath.

Blood drips down his face and onto the white of his shirt, nearly smudging against that perfect imprint of your lips on the collar. Blood that is no longer his own. Every time he closes his eyes, he can still hear the sound of his fist on flesh, bones cracking beneath his fingers as fabric tore upon his skin.

Out of the corner of his eye, a ring glints on his finger. The light from the fluorescents makes the golden band glow, and from that simple glance alone, he can feel his heart racing inside of his chest.

The only thought on his mind right now is you. 

He needs to find you. To make sure that you’re okay. To make sure that you’re safe.

His head spins, and he can barely see through his blurring vision. He doesn’t even know how he managed to get down from the roof of the theatre and make his way to the hotel across the street, but he did. All just to see you.

Stumbling to the door, he checks the room number once more. Seeing it’s the correct one this time, he begins to jostle the knob.

Locked.

A sigh heaves from his throat, resting his forehead against the dark wood separating you from him. 

If only he still had his key.

Movement heard on the other side of the door catches his attention. A moment later, and the lock is sliding out of place, the wood opening to reveal your face gazing upon him in worry.

“Jongin,” you seemingly breathe out a sigh of relief. “Leave it to you to lose your keys again.” You shake your head lightly, pulling him inside quickly. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Not even a minute later, you’ve sat the male on the bathroom counter, a towel held in your hands as you stand between his legs.

“I was worried about you, you know.” You dip the towel in some water before beginning to gently clean the blood from his face. “I didn’t think you would take so long.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

His voice sounds a bit strained, tone a deeper than usual. You chalk that up to stress. He usually sounds this way when he’s tired.

“Are you okay?” You pause your movements to stare deeply into his eyes. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

He shakes his head, gaze flitting everywhere over your features as if to commit your concerned expression to memory.

“Good.” You smile lightly, continuing to clean the blood from his face. “This doesn’t mean I’m not still upset at you, by the way.”

“I’m sorry.” His response is immediate, hands coming up to cup your face gently as he meets your gaze. “For everything. I know I’m an asshole, and I can be selfish. The thought of losing you is just too difficult for me to bear, and after tonight I promise you I’ll be a better man. I’ll be the perfect husband from now on. I won’t make you doubt. I’ll treat you right, like you’ve always deserved.”

You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards slightly in amusement.

“Someone still in character?” You joke lightly, shifting the cloth to begin wiping the blood from his neck. There seems to be a small scrape near his left eyebrow, but it no longer appears to be bleeding.

Softly, he releases his hold on your face, grabbing your wrist in his one hand to halt your movements.

“Tonight has just made me realize that I need to stop taking things for granted, especially you.” He replies earnestly. “Every day, I count myself lucky that a sinner like me has been blessed to love an angel like you.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “I thought you didn’t like all that religious talk?”

He hums, pulling you the slightest bit closer to wrap his arms around your waist. If only you could hear just how fast his heart is racing. “I think I can make an exception just this once.”

“I should mark the calendar.” You tease, poking his chest. “You finally admitted your faults for once.”

His lips part dramatically. “But Darling, you know that I’m already perfect.”

“There he is,” you chuckle, shoving him playfully.

“Who?” He quirks a brow.

“My loving husband, of course.” You grin, rolling your eyes lightly.

His lips part, and he pulls you flush against his chest. Tightly, he holds you to him, his face buried into the side of your neck as his whole body shakes.

“Jongin, what’s gotten into you tonight?” You pat his back warily. “You’re awfully affectionate.”

“I told you,” he whispers lowly, “I need to appreciate what I have before it’s gone.”

“You’re not going to lose me.” You gently begin to card your fingers through his hair, hearing him hum lightly in response. “Not that easily.”

His grip tightens around your waist, absolutely revelling in this moment here with you. “I don’t deserve you.”

Immediately, you pull away to look into his eyes, a somewhat stern look on your face. “Don’t start that again.”

“What?” His brow furrows the slightest bit in confusion.

“Saying that you’re unworthy of my love.” This time, it’s you who cups his face in your hands. “You are more than worthy, Baby. Don’t ever forget that.”

You notice tears begin to well in his eyes, spilling over in the next moment. Tears which you are quick to brush away.

“You know, sometimes I cannot help but wonder,” you hum, noticing you have his complete and utter attention, “would you still have proposed if you didn’t think your brother approved of me?”

The way he tenses slightly, breath seemingly hitching in his throat has you smiling reassuringly at him.

“I know how desperately you long for his approval, Jongin, and I know that’s why you act out sometimes,” you keep your voice low. “Know that you don’t need his approval for anything. He probably doesn’t need yours, so don’t worry about his.”

All the male before you can do is blink.

“I’m proud of who you are.” You tell him, finally finishing wiping the blood from his skin. “I hope that counts for something.”

“It counts for everything,” he breathes, thumbs stroking languidly against the skin of your hips.

Again, you smile, placing the used towel in the hamper provided for you beside the sink.

“He’s okay, though, right?” You search his features, noting the irritated twitch of his brow. “You managed to find him on the roof?”

“I didn’t see him,” he replies, somewhat gruffly.

Your head tilts slightly, brow furrowing in worry. “I thought the whole reason I sent you up to the roof in the first place was so you could make sure he was okay.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Darling.” A sigh escapes him through his nose. “It’s not like he hasn’t up and disappeared on you before.”

“On us, Jongin.” Your frown deepens, turning to exit the bathroom. “Maybe I should call him just in case.”

A hand on your wrist stops you.

“Why do you care so much about him, anyways?” There’s something shining behind his eyes that you don’t quite understand, but you turn around to face him regardless.

“I thought we talked about this, Jongin.” You sigh lowly. “Kai is still your brother. I care about him in the same ways I know you care about him. Even if you don’t want to admit it, I know you worry about him.”

“He didn’t care about me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” You meet his gaze with a stern one of your own. “Your brother-“

“Can we please stop talking about my brother?” The exasperation is clear in his voice as he practically pleads with you using his eyes.

Your expression softens, “Of course, Baby.”

The male seemingly breathes a sigh a relief, releasing his hold on your wrist not even a moment later.

“Why don’t you grab a shower, and then we can head to bed?” You turn to the cabinet to pull out a fresh set of towels. “We’ve both had a long day.”

“Will you join me?” Before he can stop himself, the words are out of his mouth.

Turning to look at him from over your shoulder, you smile, repeating your words from a mere minute earlier, “Of course, Baby.”

Grabbing another set of fresh towels, you place them both on top of the counter. Even though you already showered off before he returned, you don’t mind joining your husband one bit. Besides, he looks like he could use your company.

By the time you’ve turned back around, he’s already undone all the buttons on his shirt, his torso on full display. You couldn’t really tell before, but it’s as if his shirt suddenly had fit him better, unlike at the beginning of the evening. Either way, you shamelessly trail your gaze over his front, watching with a darkening gaze as he begins to unbuckle his belt.

The way his breath hitches as he looks up to see you already staring at him with hooded eyes does not go unnoticed by you.

“What?” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “Am I not allowed to admire my husband from time to time?”

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. “You can admire me anytime you’d like, Darling.”

A tender smile is all he receives from you in response as you move to turn on the shower. Testing the water, you make sure it’s a desirable temperature before ridding yourself of your own clothes.

The whole time you strip, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You can feel your whole body warm beneath his stare, even more so when you turn to face him.

There he stands, looking completely mesmerized by you. He’s gazing at you as if you hung each and every single star in the night sky personally just for him, his eyes shining with the deepest form of admiration you’ve ever seen him give you. It makes you feel shy, darting your gaze to the side briefly to avoid the intensity of his own.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, stepping into the shower shortly afterwards.

He follows right behind, humming lightly. “Like what?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen me naked before,” you chuckle, turning to face him and poking him lightly on his chest.

He stands beneath the spray of water, feeling it cascade down the planes of his back as he meets your gaze. He quirks a brow, never shifting his eyes from your own for one second, “Am I not allowed to admire my beautiful goddess that has chosen to fully reveal herself to a sinner like me?”

You can feel your cheeks heating, and you know it’s not from the steam of the shower. “Again with the religious talk?”

“Maybe I’m a changed man.” He grins, hands finding purchase gently on your hips, but never wandering.

A fact which you find quite peculiar at the moment, for you know Jongin would take every and any opportunity to squeeze your ass while you’re both naked in the shower.

“You’re certainly acting like it,” your hands settle on the skin of his shoulders, sliding upwards to caress his neck, followed immediately by you cupping his face gingerly as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought I told you that I was going to start appreciating you more.” He hums knowingly. “After all, you deserve no less.”

Again, your brow quirks teasingly. “Okay, Mister Rover.”

He simply smiles in response, the familiar crinkling of his eyes offering you comfort during this time.

Nothing more is said between the both of you as you wash each other beneath the warmth of the water. Every touch is careful, tender in the way his fingers caress your skin. What’s even more surprising is that he watches your reactions carefully, never lingering too long on your ass or your breasts more than is necessary. A stark contrast to what you’re used to with him, but it’s quite nice for a change. Refreshing, in a way. Something you have always longed for with him.

Softly, your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair. His eyes flutter shut, absolutely revealing in such a tender moment with you here in time.

All too soon, you’re both stepping out of the shower. You hand him one of the towels as you begin to dry yourself off, noticing how his gaze still never leaves your form. Only, his gentle touch halts you before you can get very far.

“Here,” he takes the towel from your hands, his already secured around his waist as water droplets cascade down his chest. “Let me.”

His touch is soft as the plushness of the towel caresses your form. He starts at your shoulders, sliding the cloth down each arm individually before bringing your hands up to place a kiss upon the back of them both times. Then, he’s moving down your torso, thumbs smoothing over the fabric as he dries your chest. The way he cups your breasts is so tender, your nipples hardening from his ministrations as you nearly let out a low moan.

He steps closer.

Everywhere that towel graces your skin, his loving gaze is quick to follow. There is not a single part of you that goes untouched, that he has not touched before, but this is the most intimate moment you think you’ve ever shared with him. Never has he caressed you like this before. Hell, never has he gazed upon you like this before.

Selfishly, you never want it to stop.

The sound of the towel being dropped onto the floor draws your attention. His hands rest on your waist, fingers trembling against your skin as he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

“You are perfect in every way, Darling. Did you know that? Perfect, and so, so, so, so, so beautiful.”His voice is barely above a whisper, but you still hear him loud and clear. He sighs your name so tenderly, as if it is a gospel upon his lips and only you can offer him rapture. “I love you. So goddamn much.”

Your expression softens, hand coming up to cup the side of his face as you stare down at him with nothing but love in your eyes.

“Please, Darling,” his grip tightens ever so faintly around your waist, “may I touch you? May I kiss you, and make love to you like you’ve always deserved? I want to treat you right, and make you feel good. Tonight, it’s all about you.”

Your heart positively flutters at his words, breath catching in your throat.

“Please?” He’s close to begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This night has already been everything that he could have ever asked for, and so much more.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. He actually asked this time.

The answer escapes you before you even have the chance to think about it, tears of content welling in your eyes. 

“Yes.” You nod vigorously. “Yes, you may.”

The smile that stretches across his features is nothing short of brilliant, staring up at you with nothing but awe reflected in his gaze. Slowly, his hands slide down your waist, settling onto the sides of your thighs as he leans into you.

Softly, he places his lips upon your skin. Starting at about your mid-thigh, he takes his time trailing gentle kisses up your body, hands holding you steady. You cannot tell who’s shaking more, you or him, but at the feeling of his tongue darting out to soothe over your skin, you find that you don’t particularly care.

Each press of his lips against you is meticulous, nothing more than a gentle caress as he ascends your figure, muttering praises all the while.

“Your curves are hypnotizing, Darling.” He breathes against your skin, hands trailing along your sides as if to emphasize his words. 

“I adore your thighs. They’re so soft and warm, and attached to the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen.” He brings his one hand down to give your flesh an appreciative squeeze, fingers sinking delicately into your skin.

Gently, his hands find purchase on your waist once more as he trails kisses all along your stomach, breathing deepening with each one. The press of his lips becomes more desperate with every meeting against your flesh, beginning to sensually lave his mouth over you the further upwards he gets.

Darting his gaze upwards, he sees you already staring down at him with hooded eyes. Your breathing has deepened, and your lips are slightly parted. What makes this moment even better is the way your hand comes up to lightly begin threading your fingers through his still damp hair.

He hums, licking a strip up your body starting from your mid-torso to between your breasts. Gently, he nuzzles against your chest, nose brushing against your skin as he moves to settle his face into the side of your neck.

“There isn’t a part of you that has not captivated me from the very first glance,” he whispers lowly against your skin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I’m sorry that it has taken me this long to be able to fully appreciate you, Darling.”

You’re sure he can feel the way your heart stutters from his words alone, feeling him smile against the skin of your neck.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “Shall we move this to the bed?”

This time, there is no mistaking the way he smiles as he pulls back to stare lovingly into your eyes. “I would love nothing more.”

Grasping your hand in his, he leads you out of the bathroom. His towel has long since fallen from his hips, and you take the time to admire his broad backside as he walks back out into the main area of the room.

To the side, your dress hangs. Not a single spec of blood can be seen, juxtaposed to the black suit jacket which had dripped a lethargic pool of red onto the floor.

“You know,” you hum, drawing his attention to you once more as your eyes shine playfully, “my husband’s got a nice ass.”

The corners of his lips quirk upwards slowly, mirth dancing in his orbs as he helps you settle onto the bed. “It matches my wife’s perfect one.”

You slap his arm lightly as he craws over you, grins dancing on both of your features. 

“Jongin!”

You swear the male above you flinches, but before you can say anything, his forehead pressing against your own draws your attention.

“I would prefer if you didn’t call me that tonight, Darling.” His voice is but a quiet whisper upon your ears.

You blink, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. This isn’t the first time he’s wanted you to call him something else in the bedroom, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. “Then, what would you like me to call you tonight, Baby?”

He takes a moment before he answers, and you cannot tell if it’s in hesitation, or if he actually has to think about it.

“My Love.” He finally seems to settle on a response. “I want you to call me yours. Your one and only. Your love.”

You smile softly, fingers back to threading through his hair. “I can do that.”

The way his eyes light up in excitement makes you chuckle fondly.

“As long as you do the same for me.” 

You can feel the way his semi-erect cock twitches against the skin of your thigh from your words.

“I would love nothing more.” His voice is breathless, the deepest of affections shining within his gaze.

“Oh?” You quirk a brow at this, a teasing lilt to your tone. “And here I was thinking I’d have to beg you for it like the last time.”

He tilts his head slightly, amusement dancing on his features. Though, you swear you see his eyebrow twitch.

“I thought you didn’t like using those types of endearments in the bedroom?” Your expression is nothing but playful as your fingers still in his hair.

“Changed man, remember?” He grins, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead. “I said I would take care of you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. In every and any way imaginable.”

“I suppose so,” you hum, pulling him closer into you.

“Now, My Love,” he stares deeply into your eyes as he licks his lips, gaze darting down to your own briefly, “may I kiss you?”

Once more, your heart swells inside of your chest, a pleasant warmth flooding your veins. You nod your head, “You may.”

His lips are on your own without another thought, pouring everything he is into the kiss. His one hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking tenderly against your skin as he slowly grinds himself into you. The way you moan into his mouth makes his head spin.

Reluctantly, he parts from your lips, trailing his own back down your neck. Lightly, he nips at your skin, sucking gently until he finds that one spot that has you moaning for him again. Once he finds it, he cannot help but smile, laving his tongue over your flesh before suckling at the spot eagerly.

Sensually, he places open mouthed kisses all along your collarbones and down your chest. His hands hold onto your waist firmly, grounding him to you and the beautiful reality before him. His thumbs barely ghost along the undersides of your breasts, yet still, he waits for your permission.

The moment you nod, practically begging him with your eyes to touch you, his hands are on your breasts. Eagerly, he palms the tender flesh, giving them each an appreciative squeeze as he trails more open mouthed kisses between them. His thumbs move to trace over your pert nipples, circling them gently as he moans against your skin.

“So beautiful,” he trails kisses over the swell of your one breast, tongue darting out to trace over the same path shortly after. He gives them another appreciative squeeze. “So soft.”

Carefully, his mouth envelopes your one nipple, sucking eagerly at the pert bud. His tongue flicks over your skin, moaning around you as he feels you arch into his touch.

He can never get enough.

Reluctantly, he parts from you only to languidly trail open mouthed kisses to your other breast. Of course, he makes sure to give your other nipple the same amount of attention, rolling the one he’s just parted from slowly between his thumb and index finger.

“My Love,” the blissful sigh you breathe out has him twitching against you once more, his heart stuttering inside of his chest.

He moans, grinding his hips into your own and letting you feel every inch of his hard cock pressed against you.

Your breath hitches, tossing your head back as your eyes flutter shut.

“Do you feel that, My Love?” His voice is low, airy as he continues to nip at the tender skin of your breast all the while. “Do you feel how hard you make me? How hard you always make me, even just from the thought of you? You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Baby,” your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer into you. “Kiss me.”

Who is he to deny the one he loves?

In an instant, his lips are back on your own. Tenderly, his tongue caresses yours, holding you close as he continues to grind himself into you. The movement of his hips are almost synonymous with the movement of his tongue, sensually meeting yours every time.

Each sound you make, every reaction you give him, he absolutely revels in. The fact that he is the one to elicit such sinful sounds, such beautiful reactions from you, has a warmth unlike any other flooding his chest. Still, his head spins and his heart races, hands continuing to explore your body eagerly, yet sensually at the same time.

The moment he feels you wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him in closer, he nearly comes on the spot. Only, the feeling of you pushing on his chest halts his every move.

“What are you doing?” His brow furrows as he pulls away the slightest bit to look at you.

“This is usually around the time where you tell me to suck you off, is it not?” You blink up at him, brow furrowing in mild confusion. “Do you not want me to?”

He practically stares down at you, dumbfounded. A moment later, he’s blinking quite rapidly, as if coming back to the reality before him.

“I thought I told you that tonight is all about you,” he can tell that his answer catches you off guard, for now, you are the one staring at him in mild shock. “Besides, I’d rather see you falling apart on my tongue.”

You blink at him a few times, as if in a daze. “You want to eat me out?”

“More than anything,” he practically pants out his answer, chest heaving as he slowly begins to descend your body. His eyes are dark, locked on your face as he places wet, open mouthed kisses against your skin the whole while. Once he’s settled between your legs, he licks his lips, hands eagerly spreading you open for him as his fingers dig into the skin of your thighs. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dying for a taste.”

Your breath hitches, and your thighs twitch, feeling yourself clench around nothing from his words alone. A movement which you know he picks up on, for you can see the way his lips tug upwards smugly as his dark eyes dart to your core.

“I thought-“ you blink your surprise away, “I thought you didn’t like giving head?”

He licks his lips, pulling you in closer as he meets your gaze.

“I lied.”

The second those words escape him, his lips are on you, and the way your whole body shudders does not go unnoticed by him. He smirks, hearing you sigh in pleasure.

A loud moan falls from him as his tongue drags through your wet folds, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Gently, he laves his entire mouth over your pussy, sucking eagerly at your essence all the while. Each movement of his tongue is precise, parting your folds only to flick at your swollen clit in the next moment. He is shameless, and messy, slurping at your wetness as he pulls you closer into him.

The whole time, he never breaks eye contact with you. The heat from his gaze travels straight to your core, and you cannot help the way you clench around his tongue as he circles your lower lips. You can feel the tips of his fingers digging into your skin, holding you down as his nails prick your hips. A sensation unlike anything you’ve felt with him before.

His plump lips kiss over your clit, the ghost of his touch sending little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. Not even a moment later, he wraps them around that pert little bud, suckling as he flicks his tongue over you once more.

You cannot help it. Your one hand moves to tangle in his hair, hips shifting against his mouth with his every movement. Your eyes flutter shut, breathless moans escaping you as the wet sounds of his mouth fully devouring you reach your ears. He seems to be enjoying this even more than you are, and you can feel yourself clenching just from that thought alone.

“So fucking sweet, Baby,” he moans directly over your core, the vibrations sending pleasant tingles up your spine. “Best I’ll ever have.” Something within his eyes flash. “Only one I’ll ever need.”

A moan of his name nearly escapes you, but you catch yourself just in time. The last time you disobeyed his wishes in the bedroom, he left you high and dry for weeks. The last thing you want is for him to stop now. Not when he’s finally eating you out like you’ve always dreamed about. Just like you’ve always wanted him to. Especially not when he’s getting this lost in your pussy.

“Fuck, My Love, just like that,” you sigh, nothing but bliss pulling at your features as you tug him in closer by his hair.

He moans, tongue lapping eagerly at your juices which continuously flow from you like the sweetest nectar he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. He never wants this to end, becoming addicted to the desperate way your hips grind against his mouth, seeking more of him.

His grip tightens, moans bordering on low growls as his dark eyes consume every reaction you give him. Slowly, he begins grinding himself down on the mattress, seeking any sort of friction to relieve the aching of his hard cock. Seeing you like this, and knowing you’re seconds away from falling apart because of him and him alone has his head spinning. 

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, feeling the way your essence begins to drip down his chin as he becomes drunk on you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, thighs tossed over his shoulders as he pulls you in closer. His grip is desperate, as if you might disappear from him at any moment, only emphasized by the eager way he sucks your clit back between his lips. Not even a second later, he’s shaking his head lightly from side to side, mouth eagerly consuming every drop you have to offer him.

“Fuck yes- just like that,” your voice is airy, lips parting as your moans begin to increase in pitch. Your eyes squeeze shut in bliss. “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”

The deepest of browns gaze at you with nothing but tender love and affection, pleading you with his eyes to fall apart. He’s just as desperate as you are, moaning against you unabashedly with each movement of his lips. Every flick of his tongue is precise, focussing all his attention to your clit now, and begging you to come for him, even without saying it.

His one hand reaches up to intertwine your fingers of your free hand with his own. Gently, he squeezes them, reassuring you that he’s right here, and that you can let yourself go. He needs to see you fall apart for him. Because of him. Him, and only him.

Not even ten seconds later, you do.

Your thighs tremble as your back arches off of the bed, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm crashes into you. A loud moan escapes you, hands subconsciously tightening their holds on him for support as your entire body thrums with pleasure. The euphoric sensation is unlike anything that you’ve felt before, and you can feel yourself rhythmically clenching around nothing as you come down from your high.

Languidly, he hums between your legs, loving how he can feel them continuing to shake around his head as he laps gently at your cunt. No drop is to go to waste, needing to clean up the mess he’s made of you, and making sure he does so well. Only when he begins to feel you lightly pushing his head away from your quivering entrance does he pull away from you.

He meets your gaze, a primal sort of lust shining within his own as he licks his lips.

“Goddamn addictive, you know that?” He places tender kisses onto the skin of your inner thigh, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh all the while. “I have half the mind to tell you to sit on my face right this very second so I can continue getting lost in this beautiful pussy of yours, Darling.”

The way you clench from his words alone does not go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, My Love?” The grin that pulls at his lips, still shining with your essence, is nothing short of feral. “Smothering me with your dripping cunt so I have no choice but to give you the loving you deserve.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your eyes searching his own as your lips remain parted. “You’ve been holding out on me this whole goddamn time? Who knew you were this desperate for my pussy.”

“I’m always desperate for you, My Love. In any and every way possible.” He hums, kissing his way back up your body until he can nuzzle his face back into the side of your neck, nipping at the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to show you.”

“You’re showing me now, and that’s all that matters.” You bring a hand up to cup his cheek tenderly, noticing how he immediately leans into your touch.

“I’m here now, and you never have to worry about anything ever again.” His eyes flutter shut, a content sigh escaping him. A moment later, he’s turned his head, placing a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand. His eyes open, and your breath hitches as the darkness you can see swirling within. “Now, let me love you like you’ve always deserved.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, sensually moving against you as he shifts his hips to fully settle between your legs. Naturally, your thighs part to offer him unrestricted access, soft hums falling from you as you pull him in closer. You part only to begin trailing your own lips down his neck, biting and suckling on his skin as his breathing deepens.

“Baby,” the soft drawl from your lips catches his attention, “you’ve already done so much for me tonight. Won’t you let me love you, too?”

A guttural groan escapes him, head falling forward so that his forehead rests against yours.

“Lay on your back, Baby,” your hands slide tenderly down his spine as you move to flip your positions. “Just relax, and let me take care of you.”

The way his honeyed locks look splayed out on the pillow accentuate his golden features beautifully. His warm, brown eyes reflect nothing but awe and love as he stares up at you, his lips parting with every breath that falls from them.

“I thought-“

“Shh,” you bring a finger to his lips, your own tugging upwards in a sultry grin, “This is still about me. Only now, I wish to please my husband just as he has pleased me.”

A shudder wracks his entire body, a moan tumbling from his lips at your words.

You smile.

Gently, your fingers begin to dance along the skin of his chest, nails teasingly raking down his torso as you sit above him. Just as he did with you, you begin placing kisses all over his tanned skin, biting your marks for all to see.

“You’re so handsome, Baby,” your tongue comes out to soothe over a particularly harsh bite you’ve just given him. Not that he seems to mind from the way he’s keening beneath you. “Always looking as if you were sculpted by the gods, and all just for me.”

You feel his cock twitch beneath you as he moans shamelessly, “Just for you.”

Slowly, your hands trail up his sides, feeling the way he shivers beneath your touch. At the same time, you begin to grind yourself down onto his aching cock, hearing how he moans for you as you do so.

Without wasting another moment, you take his hard cock into your hand, pumping him a few times as you line him up with your entrance. You tease him, dragging the head through your wet folds a few times before you purposely grind the tip against your clit. The way his fingers dig into your skin says it all.

“Please, Darling,” his chest heaves with every breath, barely able to hold himself together, “Don’t tease me like that.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards, beginning to sink yourself down on his cock. Still, you cannot help but to tease him, sliding yourself a few inches down, only to lift yourself back off of him shortly after. Each time you do this, you sink lower and lower, noticing how his gaze rests transfixed on the space where your two bodies meet. His breathing comes in jagged pants, clinging onto you for dear life.

Finally, you decide he’s had enough teasing for now, and you slide all the way down. The way he feels fully sheathed inside of you has moans falling from both of your lips, your warm walls pulsing around him almost in time with his heartbeat.

Did he suddenly get bigger? The stretch you’re so used too feels the slightest bit different, as if his cock is even thicker than you remember. Perhaps he’s just that hard.

The feeling of his thumbs stroking lightly over the skin of your thighs grounds you back to the reality before you. His touch is nothing short of tender, and you cannot help the way your heart races from that fact alone.

“Are you okay, Darling?” There’s nothing but deep affection shining within his gaze as he look up at you in awe.

You nod your head. “Are you okay, My Love?”

“Never better.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides as you feel him throbbing within you. “You can move whenever you’re ready, Darling.”

The only response he gets from you is the twitching of your lips upwards before your hips are shifting against his own.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head for the second time tonight, his fingers pressing desperately into your skin. The feeling of your warm cunt sucking him in, your essence dripping down his shaft and onto his skin makes his head spin.

He did this to you. Only he can make you feel this way, and for that, he could not be prouder than he is in this very moment. Only he knows how to please you in such intimate, intricate ways. Ways he’s only every dreamed about.

Finally, all of his wishes are coming true.

He meets your gaze.

“I love you.” His voice is breathless, his own touch gentle on your hips as he helps to guide your movements over him. “I love you so fucking much.”

Again, you smile, humming to yourself as you look down at him in adoration. “I know.”

“Do you-“ he swallows thickly, “Do you love me, too?”

Your expression softens, slowing your pace for the moment. “You know that I do.”

“Say it.” His words are a near whimper on his lips. “Please, My Love, I need to hear you say it.”

“Baby-“

“Say you love me.” His grip tightens, almost desperately on your hips. “Even if it’s just for tonight. Please, say you love me.”

You cup his face in your hands, leaning over him as you stare deeply into his eyes.

“I am so in love with you, Baby.” You breathe out, stilling above him. “And I don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I never want you to stop.” His hands begin to creep up your back, pulling you flush against him.

“Then, I won’t.” You hum, placing a kiss right above his racing heart.

“Please, My Love,” he whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut as he fights off his tears for the time being. “Say it again.”

Immediately, you comply. “I love you, Baby.”

He flips your positions, sensually grinding his hips into yours as he moans lowly.

“One more-” He pleads, voice catching in his throat. He rest his forehead against your own as his one hand comes up to intertwine with yours. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

Slowly, his hips roll into your own, letting you feel every inch of his cock pressing against your walls with every movement he makes. He’s in no rush, wanting to savour this moment, this feeling here with you for as long as he can. This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. Finally, he gets to experience it with you.

After all, everything that he is, everything that he does, is for you.

Blissful sighs escape you with each movement of his hips, only emphasized by the way he grinds himself into you each time he’s fully sheathed inside of you once more. His one hand holds onto your own desperately, fingers interlaced with yours as he presses his body against you in every way that he knows how.

A single touch isn’t enough, he needs to feel all of you. A simple glance is too fleeting, he needs to have your attention focussed only on him at all times.

“Look at me, Baby,” his deep voice draws your gaze to his own. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A choked whimper escapes you, your free hand desperately clawing at his back to draw him in closer to you. 

The feeling of your nails raking over his shoulders is a sensation unlike any other, and it has him twitching inside of you yet again. He can never get enough of you. Nothing will ever be enough. Not when it comes to you.

“You’re so pretty,” he nips lightly at your jawline, thrusts becoming the slightest bit sharper as he continues to grind himself into you. “So pretty spread out beneath me, letting me take care of you like this.”

A gasp escapes your lips as the head of his cock brushes against such a tender spot within you.

“Oh? Is that it?” He shifts his hips, angling his cock to grind against that spot once more. The way you keen into him, walls clenching involuntarily around him has a smile tugging at his features. “Am I making you feel good, Baby?”

“So good,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he continues to sensually roll his hips into yours. Your breath hitches, “Yes, just like that.”

Softly, he begins to press kisses against your skin, tongue soothing over everywhere he can as he claims you in every way he knows how.

“So beautiful for me,” he hums. “Letting me take care of you like this.”

He can tell there’s a word beginning to form on your lips, but you bite them to keep it from spilling out. He bites down the slightest bit harder on your neck, thrusts increasing in pace as he desperately needs to hear you say it.

“Go on, My Love,” he encourages lowly. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

A desperate moan escapes you, pulling him closer. “Mine.”

His hips stutter against your own, a deep, guttural groan escaping him as his brow furrows. His heart feels as if it’s about to beat right out of his chest, grip growing all the more tighter on your body.

“Yours, Baby.” His head falls against your own as he snaps his hips into your own a little more sharply now. “All yours, and I always will be.”

Your breath hitches at that, and he notices you staring at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Am I-“ your voice is small, innocent, as if suddenly uncertain of yourself. “Am I yours?”

His heart swells inside of his chest, a loving smile pulling at his features.

“Forever, Baby.” He kisses you, pouring everything he is into the movement of his lips against your own. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own. “You will always be mine.”

This time, it’s you who pulls him down for a kiss. The way your tongues move against one another is desperate, moaning into each other’s mouths as he begins to pick up his pace.

His hips snap into your own, adjusting his position slightly so that he can bring his free hand down between your bodies to begin flicking at your clit.

Your eyes fall shut, head being tossed back as a low whine escapes your throat. Your thighs begin to twitch around his waist, holding him desperately to you he kisses you like his life depends on it. Which, to him, it does.

Gently, his thumb circles over that sensitive little nub, feeling your walls beginning to spasm around him in time with his thrusts. You can tell that you’re getting close, that familiar tightening building within your abdomen with every move that he makes.

“Oh, fuck- just like that, Baby,” you whimper against him, clinging to him for dear life. “Don’t stop- you’re gonna make me-“

A desperate keen escapes your lips as your whole body stills. Not even a moment later, your entire form trembles in his embrace, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Whimpers and whines continuously escape you as he helps you ride you through your high. He holds you as close as he possibly can, feeling your walls clenching around him, squeezing him so sinfully as his hips begin to stutter.

Not even a moment later, he stills inside of you, releasing deep into your warmth as he moans your name. He can feel his cock twitching inside of you, lazily thrusting a few more times before grinding his hips into your own.

Every movement, every touch, you both are sensitive to, breaths mingling as you attempt to heave air into your lungs. A second later, and he’s collapsing on top of you, his skin sticking to yours as he holds you close. 

Gently, you begin to card your fingers of your free hand through his hair.

“So good to me,” you hum lightly. “So, so good to me.”

“Only for you, Darling.” He places a tender kiss onto the skin of your chest. “Only for you.”

“I love you, Baby.” You manage to catch his gaze, watching as it shines with nothing but adoration for you.

“I love you.” He breathes, finding enough strength to lift himself up in order to kiss you deeply once more.

Slowly, he pulls himself out of you, the both of you whining at the loss of contact. Almost immediately, he goes to wrap you in his arms, but you standing from the bed draws his attention.

“Where are you going?” He pouts, following your figure as you retreat back to the bathroom.

“To pee, what does it look like I’m doing, silly.” You giggle. “I don’t want to get another UTI like the last time.”

The way his brow furrows slightly has you giggling once more as you disappear into the bathroom. Not even two minutes later, you’re reappearing, a damp cloth held in your hand.

He looks at you curiously, “Shouldn’t I be doing that for you?”

You nearly snort out a laugh. “When have you ever done that for me?”

His gaze is nothing but soft as he watches you clean him up, your touch soothing against his heated skin. The care you extend towards him makes his heart swell, and he cannot help but fall deeper for you in that very moment.

Just as you return to the bathroom to disposed of the cloth, he moves to open the mini-fridge. Pulling two bottles of water out, he immediately hands one to you once you return to him.

“Drink.” A firm nod is sent your way at the skeptical look you shoot him.

Wordlessly, you obey, sitting back on the edge of the bed after pulling the covers back. Once you’ve had your fill of water, you’re placing the bottle onto the bedside table, right beside your phone.

A warmth at your back has you sparing a glance at the male behind you from over your shoulder. His hands lightly trail over your shoulders, rubbing tenderly against your skin as he places gentle kisses against the side of your neck.

“Are you okay, My Love?” His voice is low, so as not to disturb the quaint moment between the both of you. “Sore anywhere? Stiff? Tender?” He hums, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “I could give you a massage if you want?”

You blink, caught off guard by his inquiry. Normally, it’s you who has to give him a massage after sex, not the opposite way around. The fact that he even offered has your heart racing pleasantly inside of your chest.

“I’m alright,” you place a loving hand over his arm, of which settles over the skin of your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Are you okay?”

You take the time to face him now, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Never better.” He smiles, cupping your face gently in his one hand. “Lay with me for a while, yeah?”

You mirror his expression, lips pulling upwards tenderly as you nod.

A moment later, the two of you are laying yourselves beneath the sheets, your head resting over his chest as he holds you close. His one hand holds your own, fingers intertwined as his other strokes calmly over your spine.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask him after a few minutes of silence. “You’ve been acting different all night.”

“Have I?” He hums, almost knowingly. “Maybe I’ve just realized that I never appreciated the love of my life like she’s always deserved. You are everything to me, Darling, and I hope you never forget that.”

“You’ve been smooth talking all night. Since when have you been known to enjoy all of this ‘lovey-dovey, romantic crap’ as you’ve so put it before?” You quirk a brow at him, shifting your gaze to look up at his face.

“But you like it, do you not?” He hums, hand continuing to stroke tenderly over your spine.

“I do.” You hum in confirmation. “But when have you ever been known to do things like this for me?”

He remains silent, and you believe he’s actually contemplating your words. A surprising fact, considering he would normally scoff and retort with something like, ‘I always do things for you.’

Your heart warms for the moment, choosing to revel in his embrace and the way he doesn’t seem to fight you on this. It’s quite refreshing, and you wish it could be like this all of the time, but you know that by tomorrow, he’ll probably be back to his regular self.

You sigh, somewhat wistfully.

“What is it?” He hums, sparing a glance down at you resting in his arms.

“No retort, and you’re actually listening to me and my desires for once?” You reply, somewhat blissfully. “I wish you were always like this.”

“Like what, My Love?” There he goes with that term of endearment you’ve always been fond of. A term which he never really used to enjoy before tonight, it seems.

“My perfect lover.” 

You swear that this night is too good to be true. A sentiment that is unknowingly shared by the male that holds you even tighter while laying in bed with you. Yet, for you both, neither of you particularly want this night to end.

With that thought, you allow yourself to fall asleep, succumbing to the darkness pulling you deeper into an unconscious abyss. Besides, you’ll probably wake up in the morning to this having all been a dream. A beautiful, blissful dream which has fulfilled all of your deepest desires.

Morning comes, and instead of waking from the dream like you thought, you are awoken to the sound of your phone buzzing on the side table. Groggily, you blink the sleep from your eyes, bringing your hands up to rub them in the next moment. 

You can feel a weight pressing against your back, and when you turn your head, you see the sleeping face of your lover staring back at you. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, as if he’s afraid you might disappear at a moment’s notice.

You must have shifted your positions overnight, you turning onto your side with him following right behind, even unknowingly. Still, it takes you a good minute to wiggle out of his embrace, hearing him groan in annoyance as he turns onto his back. Luckily, he appears to stay inside of the realm of dreams, even as your phone begins to vibrate with a call once more.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you grab the device. One look at the screen and your eyes are going wide, standing from the mattress as you answer the call.

“Hello?” Your voice is still rough from sleep, that much you can tell, even as you speak into the receiver.

“Finally! We’ve been attempting to contact you all morning!” Quincy can be heard through the speaker as you quickly toss on some pants and a shirt. “We have an emergency.”

“What’s going on?” Your brow furrows, mind focusing more on the scenery around you finally.

“We found a body this morning.” She states.

“Yes, Don Vanderleen has been dealt with as of last night.” You confirm, wondering where this is all going.

Nothing could have prepared you for the next words out of her mouth.

“No, it’s not just his body.” Quincy sighs pointedly. “We found Jongin’s body. Well, what’s left of it.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

“As your superior, I would never lie to you over these types of matters.” She states, rather firmly.

“That’s impossible, because I’m staring at him right now.” You reply, tone a bit harsh at being woken up with something like this. “You must have found Kai’s body instead.”

“Genetics confirms that it was Jongin’s body.” She sighs. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat unpleasantly, seeing the male on the bed beginning to rouse the longer that you’re on the phone.

“No,” you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re wrong.”

A tremendous sigh is heard on the other end of the phone. “There was no mole on the back of his neck. I would send you the photos forensics took, but I fear it may be too soon for you to see.”

“This can’t be happening.” You mumble, running a hand over your head desperately.

“I’m sorry.” Quincy sighs once more. “I’ll call you again when I have more details. As his wife, I thought you should be the first to know.”

Without waiting for a response, she hangs up, and you are force to watch who you assume to be your husband finally awaken to the world around him.

The male sits up, rubbing lightly at his eyes. Slowly, he lets his arms fall back to the bed, blinking the remaining sleep from his vision. You notice his gaze darts slightly around the room, brow furrowing in minor confusion before he turns his attention to you standing in the corner. As soon as he sees you, his eyes are widening ever so slightly before a smile of almost pleasant disbelief is painting his features.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

It seems as if he thought all of last night had been a dream, too.

“Good morning, Darling-“

“How dare you call me that.” Your voice is low as the first of your tears begin to trail down the side of your cheeks.

Immediately, worry crosses his features, the male shifting to move closer to you and comfort you in any way he can.

“Don’t come any closer!” You raise a hand, halting him right in his tracks.

“Baby, what’s gotten into you?” His eyebrows furrow, nothing but concern shining in his eyes. Eyes which plead desperately for you to tell him what’s going on.

You swallow thickly. There’s only one way you know to prove that Quincy spoke true.

“Turn around.” You keep your voice low, hoping beyond anything that it remains steady for the moment. “I want to see the mole on the back of your neck.”

His whole body tenses slightly, but you do not fail to catch it this time.

“What are you talking about? You know I don’t have a mole on the back of my neck.” He chuckles, somewhat nervously.

“Then, you should have no problem showing me.” Comes your blunt reply.

“Baby, what has you so paranoid?” He searches your face. “Do you not trust me?”

He shifts off of the bed, pulling on the closest pair of pants he can find as he stands.

“I got a call.” You state, and he glances down at your phone held in your hand. “They found a body.”

His gaze darts back up to your own.

“A dead body.” Your whole body begins to tremble.

He blinks.

“It’s your brother.”

He remains silent, and you swear you can hear a pin drop with how still you both have gone.

He swallows, “I told you that I couldn’t find him when I went up to the roof.”

Your shoulders seemingly relax the slightest bit when he says this.

Cautiously, he takes a step closer.

“A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours,” he speaks to you calmly, as if attempting to calm you even further from the edge. “Why don’t we just take it easy, yeah? Take a deep breath, and then we can handle this together.”

Softly, you begin to nod your head, seemingly dropping your guard for the moment as your shoulders slouch.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, clutching onto your phone as a lifeline as you step closer to him, resting just at the foot of the bed. “Let’s just stay together, and watch the sunrise.”

You see his brow furrow slightly in confusion, and your heart drops.

“But the sun’s already up, My Love.” He offers you a somewhat perplexed smile.

“Oh,” you chuckle, but you know that it’s quite stiff. “I suppose you’re right.”

In the next moment, you reach for him, appearing to seek his touch just as he does the same to you. Only, you’ve been planning this since the second he stepped out of bed.

A blink, and you have him pinned on his stomach, his one arm trapped beneath his body while you pull the other one behind his back. Your touch is nowhere near as gentle as it was last night as you shove his head into the mattress, pushing the ends of his golden locks upwards to reveal what you’ve been dreading since you got the call.

There, resting just below his hairline, resides a small mole, practically glaring back up at you in the light of the morning sun.

As if the code he botched wasn’t enough, this just proves it.

Your breathing deepens, chest heaving with every stuttering inhale you take as the harshness of reality sinks in around you. Suddenly, the room is thick with tension. So much so, that it weighs on your shoulders, suffocating you with every beat of your frantic heart.

You push yourself off of him, shaking your head as more tears fall from your eyes.

“No,” you back yourself against the wall as you watch him push himself up from the bed with a disappointed sigh. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your heart feels as if someone has reached inside and torn it from your chest, the betrayal you feel coming through as clear as day on your face.

“Darling-“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You shriek, eyes blazing with an unbridled fury. “You- you-“ you push yourself as far against the wall as you can, your voice breaking as you attempt to find words, “you made me believe you were him.”

A deadly silence washes over the both of you.

“I should have known,” you scoff, a sort of sadness taking over your features. “I should have known it was too good to be true. He’s never listened to me like that. He’s never loved me like that.”

Kai’s jaw twitches in irritation, watching you break down in front of him like this.

“The entire night,” you laugh bitterly, “the entire night he was missing, probably already dead. Yet here I was, fucking his brother.” Your expression drops, horror painting your features. “I fucking cheated on my dead husband with his brother. I- I-“ You meet his gaze, breath hitching in your throat as you realize something. “Why did you let me believe that you were him?”

He remains silent, lips pursed into a thin line.

“Why?” You shout, tears streaming down your face.

“He could never love you the way that I could.” Kai’s voice is low as he replies, watching your every move carefully. “He’s never loved you in the way you deserved.”

“That’s bullshit!” You spit. “Who are you to decide who can and can’t love me? Who are you to decide what kind of love I deserve?”

“He’s never deserved you, period.” He keeps his tone steady, but you can hear the restrained anger he holds back for the moment.

“And you do?” You counter, incredulously.

“I loved you first!” His one hand slams over his heart, nails biting into the skin of his bare chest. “I wanted you first. He only wanted you to prove I could never have you; to take you away from me. He never loved you, he only loved knowing he had something else over me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. The only person I’ve ever loved.”

Your eyes catch on that gold band wrapped around his one finger.

Pure dread washes over you as realization sinks in. Your blood runs cold.

“How did you get that ring?”

Kai notices your gaze locked on his hand, and he pulls it away only to gaze down lovingly at the metal adoring his finger.

“It belonged to me before he stole it.” He replies, somewhat bitterly. At your skeptical look, he’s quick to continue, “Yes, your loving husband took this set of rings from me to propose to you with. After I had told him of my intentions of doing the exact same thing. Only, he got to them first.”

“So, you had two sets.” You voice, attempting to wrap your head around this new information.

“Oh, no, Darling,” he shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards maniacally. “Just the one.”

Your brow furrows, until morbid realization paints your features. “You killed him.”

“He didn’t deserve to live.” Comes his blunt reply. “Not after everything he’s done. Not after everything he’s put you through.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

“Wasn’t it, though?” Kai hums, tilting his head mockingly. “He couldn’t protect you properly. I saw what that bastard did to you last night. Do you really think Jongin would have done anything about it? No. Instead, he pulled you on top of himself when the bullets started flying to protect himself. He never cared about you, because no matter how much attention you could give him, it would never be enough. You were never enough for him.”

“He pulled me on top of him because I said I didn’t want any of that man’s vile blood to touch me.” Your voice is low, like the approach of an oncoming storm. “You are so jealous of your brother, you continuously make up false claims just to tarnish his name. You never saw how he treated me behind closed doors. You don’t know what our relationship was like.”

“Really? Because I certainly learned enough last night.” Comes his pointed retort. “He was a fucking selfish lover, wasn’t he? Always putting his pleasure first over your own. He used you in every way he could to get himself off, both physically and emotionally, yet you’re still too blind to see it!”

“Don’t pretend to know what he was like.” You snap, arms crossing over your chest. “At least he never made me believe he was someone he was not.”

“You’re the one who assumed I was him.”

“You’re the one that went along with it!” You counter, your chest heaving as you swear your heart might collapse at any moment from the suffocating feeling of pain that surrounds it. “Now, I’ll have to live my entire life knowing I slept with my husband’s murderer on the night he was killed. I cheated on my dead husband!”

With each word, your voice rises. You’re almost hysterical at this point, beginning to pace while laughing insanely the whole while.

“You want to get mad at me for killing someone as vile as him?” Kai’s nostrils flare. “I killed him before he could kill me. It was self defence! Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like Shinobu or Nancy were that lucky.”

“Are you seriously implying that my husband was the one who killed Nancy and Shinobu?” You reply incredulously, eyes going wide in disbelief.

“He told me himself that he killed any further doubts you might have about him last night.” Kai states, somewhat matter of factly.

“And I’m supposed to believe you?” You scoff, shaking your head.

“I would never lie to you.” There is nothing but honesty dripping from both his tone and his gaze, and you hate how you actually do believe him.

“Yet, you made me believe you were your brother.” Your voice isn’t as firm as before, your tears slowing, too.

“You said it yourself last night,” he meets your gaze, eyes flashing, “I am your perfect lover.”

“You’re despicable,” you spit, noticing how he slowly begins to creep towards you now.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you begin to angle yourself away from him. Only, he’s faster, pinning you to the wall as he rests his forehead against your own.

“Every night could be like the last when you’re with me. No, it will be.” He breathes, pressing himself right up against you despite your best efforts to shove him off of you. “You know I can treat you right, Darling. I think I’ve more than proved myself to you. I have always wanted you. I have always loved you. With me, you’d never have to question that again.”

You hands come up to rest on his chest, keeping him distanced from you as much as you can.

“You’ve betrayed me, Kai.” Your voice is but a mere whisper on your lips, the devastation clear on your features. “I can never forgive that.”

“That’s bullshit!” He pushes himself off of the wall, anger pulling at his features. “You can’t forgive me, but you can continue to love a man who continuously cheated on you, and could never love you in the ways that you’ve always deserved?”

“Jongin never cheated on me, Kai.” You state lowly. “Your brother was a lot of things, but cheater he was not. Not after he knew what happened with my parents.”

The male before you remains silent.

“You knew what happened with my parents, how they didn’t know the meaning of loyalty. You know how I feel about cheaters, and you purposely led me to believe you were my husband just so you could fuck me.” You slowly begin backing away from him again, leading yourself towards the hallway that will lead out of the room. Your phone begins buzzing in your hand. “How do you think that looks to me, Kai? You say you love me, but would someone in love do something as unforgivable as that to the one they claim to love?”

“I do love you.” His tone is firm, taking a step forward as tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

“No,” you shake your head, finally having reached the bedside table. “You don’t love me. You want to own me.”

His breath hitches, the first of his tears beginning to trail openly down his cheeks.

“I have always loved you.” He repeats his words from earlier, a bit more desperately this time. “Last night-“

“Last night was you manipulating me into getting what you’ve always wanted from me.” You say. “You want to make Jongin out to be the bad guy when you’re the worst one!”

“I only want to love you!” His fist slams against the wall beside him in frustration before he begins tugging desperately at his hair. “Can you not see that?”

“I cannot love a man like you, Kai.” You shake your head, feeling your phone begin vibrating once more in your hand. “I never can, and I never will."

Something within his eyes flash, and he goes so still, you swear that he’s stopped breathing.

“You don’t mean that,” he starts to hyperventilate, his eyes crazed as he begins clawing at his face. “You- you- you need me like I need you! You said you loved me! You said I was yours!”

“I said I loved my husband, Kai.” Your voice is firm as you meet his devastated, tearstained face. “Not you.”

“No!” He lunges, managing to knock your phone out of your hands as he wraps his arms around you. You both go tumbling to the floor. Desperately, he clings to you, sobbing into your neck. “You can’t leave me! I love you! I did this for you. For us!”

“Kai, let me go.” You attempt to push him off of you, but he doesn’t relent his hold on you even in the slightest.

“No.” He begins to shake his head. “I- I’ll make you love me. You’ll see!”

“Kai, this isn’t an opportunity for you to change my mind.” You, again, attempt to shove him off of you to no avail.

“I don’t need to change your mind,” he starts to nod, as if he’s convincing himself more so than you, now. “I’ve already proved it to you. You felt it, didn’t you? You felt my love last night. You wouldn’t call me your perfect lover otherwise.”

You can tell he’s no longer talking to you, but reasoning with himself. The more he speaks, the more he seems to believe, calming himself down with each word that he says.

A knock at the door breaks his train of thought. He stiffens.

“Don’t answer that.”

Another knock, more frantic than the first sounds.

You attempt to break free from his grasp once more, only for him to pull you firmly back into his arms each time.

“You’re not going anywhere, Darling.” His voice is low, suddenly much more ominous than only moments before. “I won’t let you leave me.”

You still, heart stuttering as a fear unlike ever before floods your veins. If he can kill his own brother, there’s no telling what he might do to you.

A call of your name from a familiar voice outside the door draws your attention.

“Are you in there?”

It’s Quincy.

Just as you open your mouth to respond, Kai slaps a hand over your lips.

“Shh,” he keeps his voice low right by your ear, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine. “Wouldn’t want the big boss lady to disturb the happy couple, now, would we?”

You shake your head, deciding to play along with his games for the moment. You’d rather stay alive than upset him further and truly set him off. He already seems incredibly unhinged, and there’s no telling what he might do.

Another knock sounds.

Slowly, Kai beings to lower his hand, trusting that you won’t act out.

Only, you know better.

A loud yelp escapes him as you bite down on his hand quite harshly. This causes him to loosen his hold on you, and you managing to scramble free after elbowing him in the chest. Rolling away from him, you’re quick to fling open the closet door right beside you, seeing as you wouldn’t have enough time to stand and open the door to the room. Luckily, you know where you’ve stashed all the guns, and the closest one now rests in your hands as you stand back to your feet.

“I’m inside, Quincy.” You call over your shoulder, watching as Kai slowly stands to his feet with his arms raised beside him. You cock the gun. “Kai’s gone mad.”

You hear a low curse come from behind the slab of wood behind you, some shuffling occurring as she whispers order too low to make out.

“Please, Darling,” he expression falls. “Don’t do this. You know I can make you so happy.”

“Take off that ring.” Your eyes briefly dart to his hand, that metal band glinting almost mockingly at you now. “Besides, I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“And I thought I told you that these rings are mine.” His eyes flash. “Ours.”

Your nostrils flare. “Fine then.”

Shifting your hand, you begin to slide your own wedding band off of your finger. Except, Kai takes advantage of your movements, lunging towards you while you’re distracted. He manages to wrestle the gun from your hands as you go tumbling to the ground. You scramble onto your back, hands supporting you as you look at the man you thought you could trust.

The gun is now pointed at your head, tears streaming down his face as he gazes down at you with nothing but sorrow on his features.

“Don’t make me do this.” He nearly chokes on a sob.

You can hear some scratching at the door. The slow, telltale movements of someone picking the lock.

“I’m not making you do anything, Kai.” You shake your head. “You did it all yourself.”

“Please,” he begs, hand trembling as that barrel stares you down. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You can’t lose what you’ve never had, Kai.” You reply lowly.

His expression falls, and you notice his hand has stopped shaking.

“Fine then.” He swallows thickly, as if steeling himself for what he’s about to do.

You hear the click of the lock falling out of place.

“If I can’t have you,” his eyes are crazed, wild as he meets your own, “No one can.”

The sound of the door swinging open is synonymous with the gunshot that echoes throughout the room. The second shot is quick to follow, a body falling limply to the floor.

#yandere kai #yandere jongin #yandere exo #yandere kpop #kpop scenario #exo scenario #jongin scenario #kai scenario #kai smut #jongin smut #kpop smut #yandere au #spy au #twin au #kpop au #exo smut #tw: dubcon #tw: dubious consent

[rafeandonlyrafe]

a place we could escape sometime

words: 2k

you can’t help but stare. rafe cameron is so gorgeous. it’s his fault, really, if you think about it. his fault for wearing such a tight fitting button down. his fault for wearing dress pants that sculpt his legs. his fault for having that sandy blonde hair falling on either side of his forehead. his fault for having eyes that you could fall into like the ocean… that are staring right back at you.

you quickly turn your head away, but not before seeing rafe’s smirk. you curse yourself and that stupid little pull inside of you that has you unable to look away from him, even during things like this.

you see rafe moving towards you out of the corner of your eye. you go to turn away, looking for any sort of refuge, but his hand is on your forearm, pulling you back into him. “pretty dress.”

you look down, as if you don’t know what you’re wearing. it’s the same dress worn by the other bridesmaids. “thanks.” you shrug. it’s not like you picked it out, or that it’s particularly flattering. in fact, you think the color is a little hideous, too dull of a lilac, turning it gray in most lighting. but you wouldn’t dare tell your aunt that. it’s her third wedding, and the second one you’ve been a bridesmaid in. you swear that every time the celebrations get more elaborate, bigger attendance and longer parties. you’re on hour six in the dress and heels, and you’ve lost all filter (and a bit of your sanity, which is probably why you were just unashamedly staring at rafe.)

“third times the charm?” it takes you a second to realize that rafe is talking about your aunt. his family is close to yours, probably only because yours is equally as powerful and influential in kildare. in fact, you can’t think of any of your family members who actually like the camerons, but despite that, you were close to rafe when you were kids, being close in age. you just haven’t actually spoken to him in years.

“hopefully.” you shrug again, hoping that your disinterest in the situation will make rafe think that you were just staring into space, not at him specifically. “i don’t know how many of these parties i can endure.”

rafe’s lip quirks up again. “what do you mean?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm, “you don’t like the fake niceness?” rafe circles you like a shark. your eyes flicker around the party, noticing all the planted on smiles, the forced laughter. “you don’t like the repetitive music, or the bland food? the fact that everyone knows we will be here in another five years after a third divorce?”

you give rafe an incredulous glare. it’s not that you disagree with his statement, but she is your aunt after all.

“apologies.” rafe chuckles, stopping his circling to stand at your front again. you can tell his apology isn’t sincere, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything except how close he is to you, and how your feet are killing you. five years from now you’ll have to put up a bigger fight to convince your aunt to let you wear flats, at least for the reception.

“what are you doing here still rafe?” you quirk your head to the side. he always makes the mandatory appearance for his dad, but he’s usually gone by now. “i can’t enjoy the party?” rafe grabs a champagne flute off a passing waiter. “i can’t like the repetitive music and bland food?” he takes a sip of the champagne, before passing it to you.

you roll your eyes but accept, downing the rest of the drink, not that the thin glass contained that much alcohol anyways. 

“come outside with me?” rafe asks, taking the champagne flute out of your hands, your fingers briefly brushing against each other. you nod, watching as rafe discards the glass on a random table, heading towards the balcony. the sun has long since fallen, and the gentle bite of the cold night air has you breathing out a sigh of relief, not even realizing how stuffy the ballroom behind you had begun to feel.

it’s so reminiscent of your childhood, when rafe would pull you away from the main gathering, none of the adults even caring that either of you had gone missing. it was before rafe started to get himself into major trouble. you’d do anything from build sandcastles on the beach to playing make believe, usually based on whatever movie you’d recently watched.

he was your little respite from the world, a place for you to escape to when the adult conversations became too boring. 

you walk all the way to the edge of the balcony, placing your hands on the stone railing. “i think it’s cute.” rafe says, coming up to your side.

“what is?” you ask, staring out at the ocean, you can barely see it through the dress, but it’s salty scent is in the air, the breeze carrying it like it was meant for you specifically. you’d prefer to be at the ocean right now, either walking along the sandy beaches or taking your board out to catch the waves.

“you checking me out.” you turn suddenly to rafe, eyes wide. he chuckles at your expression, “come on, y/n, you didn’t think i’d miss that?” “i wasn’t.” you deny, with a shake of your head. you go to say something about his ego, but you can’t find the words, the way his head is tipped forward, eyes tracking your every little movement.

“it’s okay.” he says with a shrug, breaking eye contact to also look towards the sea. “like i said, it’s cute.”

“great.” you mumble, mostly to yourself, “now i’m cute.” you suppose it’s better for rafe to think that you’re cute than to not think of you at all. but you don’t want to be just cute. it’s insulting. you want to be beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, you want to be one of the women he’s so often seen with. you’re sure the poof of the dress isn’t helping. you curse your aunt silently again.

“why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” rafe asks, his voice sounding genuinely curious for once, not like he’s trying to sneak in some witty comment or tease you.

“isn’t it?” you want to throw your hands up in frustration. “cute is demeaning. cute is… childish.”

rafe turns to you, brows furrowed together. “it is not.” he says, voice firm. “cute is enderating. cute is lovable.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “you are only calling me cute because we were friends when we were kids. you don’t see me like that.”

“really?” rafe says, turning and facing back towards the building, leaning against the railing and crossing his arms, giving you the perfect time to admire his side profile. “because i think you’re cute because you are cute. i can use other words too. do you want to know what else i find you?” your breath catches. you give the slightest nod, not sure if you truly want to hear this.

“well, i also find you beautiful. interesting. smart. intimidating. charm-”

“intimidating?” you interrupt rafe, letting out a genuine bark of laughter. “me? intimidating to you? scary kook prince?”

“okay.” rafe holds his hands up. “maybe not physically.” he gives you once over, “actually, definitely not physically. but you know all my secrets. that i was so scared during our music recital in third grade that i pissed my pants. you’ve got too much information, i gotta be careful to not piss you off.”

“you don’t talk to me enough to piss me off.” you mumble. it hurt, when rafe started to distance himself from you. he became not just cool and popular, but untouchable. you lost a lot of interest in him through that anyways, but that doesn’t mean the sting of the abandonment hurt any less.

“can i make it up to you?” rafe asks. the words i’m sorry not leaving his mouth, but the implication is there. regret. 

“how would you do that?” you ask.

“well, i can start by getting you out of this party. not for sandcastles on the beach, though, i fear you had a bit too much to drink and i,-” he places a hand on his chest, “being the gentleman that i am, will drive you home and make sure you get to bed safely. nothing more.”

you roll your eyes, but smile. you know that just like when you were kids, no one will even notice if you simply leave, but you’re glad rafe would help you put on a whole little performance just to flee the party. you slide your arm through his extended one, waiting for you to accept his invitation, “let’s go then.”

--

rafe ends up taking you out for ice cream, lucky to find a place still open. you almost ask him to take you home first so you can change out of your bridesmaid dress, but you’ve been in it so long it almost feels like a second skin at this point. you don’t even mind the strap digging into your shoulder. afterall, rafe did call it pretty.

“i’ll order for you.” rafe offers. “do you still get cookie dough?” 

you can’t help the smile that spreads over your face. “yeah.” you nod, surprised that rafe remembers your favorite flavor from when you were kids. rafe steps up to the counter, ordering a scoop of superman in a waffle cone for himself, and cookie dough in a cup for you. a warm feeling spreads over your chest that he even remembers that you prefer a cup.

“can we sit on your tailgate?” you ask rafe as the worker moves away to start making your ice cream. you got there right on time, they close in only ten minutes. 

“yeah, that sounds good.” rafe nods, smiling down gently at you, admiring the glittery eyeshadow patted over your lids, accenting your eye color.

“thank you.” you smile at the teenage girl working behind the counter as she sets your cup of ice cream down. she gives you a grunt in response, before moving to get rafes. you give a little giggle, not minding her attitude, knowing that you could get just as bad as a teenager.

“come on.” rafe wraps his arm around your shoulders as he gets his cone, heading out the door. rafe drops the tailgate of his truck, giving you a hand up so you can sit on it, turning towards the residential street. it isn’t much of a view, but a few of the houses have fairy lights hanging, giving it a pretty glow.

“so.” you say as rafe hops up next to you.

“so…” rafe parrots you.

“what caused this? this sudden… change?” you take a bite of your ice cream.

rafe licks his ice cream as he thinks over his answer. you have to force your head away as his tongue swipes over it, feeling something stir inside of you.

“just seeing you again.” rafe confesses. “it made me realize that i hated how much we drifted apart.”

“i wouldn’t say drift.” you say honestly. “it seemed pretty intentional on your part.”

“i suppose it was, but i never wanted you to feel that way. i started having… feelings, and so i just completely separated myself from them, from you.” “feelings? for me?” you question.

rafe nods. 

“it’s not going to be five years until i see you again, right?” you ask rafe, hopeful that this night has changed things.

“not at all.” rafe laughs, scratching the back of his neck, knowing he’s been far too distant lately. “in fact, i was thinking i could take you out to dinner sometime soon.”

you perk up at this despite your exhaustion. “yeah.” you nod. “that sounds nice.”

“y/n wait.” rafe says, making you catch his eyes. he’s staring so intensely you want to turn away, but you don’t, can’t, trapped in his gaze. “as a date. i want to take you on a date.”

you let a small smile loose. “that sounds even better.”

rafe nods, glad that you understand that he doesn’t just want dinner. he leans forward, pecking your cheek quickly. “goodnight, y/n.”

“goodnight, rafe.” your voice is barely above a whisper, but he hears you. he nods, backing down off your porch, waiting for you to slowly close the door before turning around. 

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