- Vocs No Tm Mais Nada, Ento Isso Significa Que Ele No Deveria Dormir Na Sua Cama Essa Noite, N?

⌜ 𝐄𝐗-𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐎 ───── Vocês não têm mais nada, então isso significa que ele não deveria dormir na sua cama essa noite, né?

(𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀)Ꮺ aquele hc me deixou pensativa, não resisti, desculpa.

𓏲╰ ᰔᩚ ·# [𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒] ↷ Jae!pai de menina, sexo sem proteção (!), muita dirty talk, elogios e degradação, daddy kink :)), finger sucking, dumbification, choking, jae!dom, um tapa no contexto sexual e um tapa fora, breeding.

— Tá bom — você suspira, com a mão na maçaneta, somente uma gretinha da porta restando, conforme guiou o homem para fora da casa —, boa noite.

Mas antes que conseguisse fechar a porta totalmente, despreocupada se vai ouvir algum cumprimento de volta, Jaehyun gira sobre os calcanhares, para te encarar mais uma vez. Sabe, eu ‘tava pensando...

— Não.

— ...sobre a festa de aniversário da nossa filha, na semana que vem. — Ele ri, soprando ar, mas não deixa de completar o raciocínio, mesmo diante da sua resistência automática. Esconde as mãos nos bolsos. — O que achou que eu fosse dizer?

Os seus olhos correm de um canto pra outro, evitando encará-lo enquanto, também, evita uma resposta verbal, senão uma irritaçãozinha. Ele, claro, porque não vale nada, aproveita-se da sua ausência de palavras pra responder por ti.

— O quê? Que eu ia pedir pra ficar? — a voz soa mais baixa, até mais rouca. O sorriso não abandona a face, canalha. — Que eu...

— E sobre o aniversário dela? — você corta. — O que ‘tava dizendo mesmo?

Jaehyun umedece os lábios, calando-se, feito se desse por vencido. “Nada demais”, conta, “só que eu vou chegar uma meio hora atrasado, mas não mais que isso. Por causa do trabalho.”

Hm, você murmura, de nariz em pé. O olhar passa pelo corpo na sua frente. Dos cabelos repartidos ao meio porque foram jogados pra trás de qualquer forma, o terno acinzentado, até os sapatos sociais.

Normalmente, a filha de vocês não fica com o pai nos dias de semana, porém hoje acabou sendo uma exceção quando precisou ligar para ele e pedir que a levasse na escola e buscasse no fim da tarde, pois estaria ocupada. Jaehyun não se opôs, estava na hora certinha do lado de fora da sua casa para pegá-la, e a trouxe de volta assim que você avisou que já estava em casa. Mas teve que deixá-lo subir, no entanto, coisa que você não costuma permitir. A pequena não queria largar do colo dele e só iria dormir se fosse o pai quem a colocasse na cama.

— Sabe — o tom de voz masculino soa baixo novamente. O Jung dá mais um passo à frente —, quando ela acordar, vai chamar pelo pai dela.

Você aperta o olhar.

— Aí, eu vou dizer pra ela que o pai dela está na casa dele — responde, simplista —, e que ela pode ver ele depois.

Jaehyun repuxa o sorriso, ladino.

— Ela vai chorar...

— Não vai, não.

— Vai, ela ‘tá chorando o dia inteiro. Ela ralou o joelho na escolinha hoje. — Mais um passo à frente, mais pertinho.

— Acontece.

— Qual foi? — Encosta o braço no batente da porta. — Não seja tão má, vai.

Você pende a cabeça, apoiando na porta. “O que você quer que eu faça, então?”, retruca, “Que te deixe dormir aqui?”

O sorriso no rosto dele aumenta, crescendo em câmera lenta, pilantra, mas sem mostrar os dentes. Por mais que mantenha a mesma pose, não pode negar, porém, que sente o corpo até arrepiar ao ser encarada de tal forma. Os olhos do homem brilhando, focando somente em ti. Tem vontade de socar a cara dele, de xingá-lo dos nomes mais vadios possíveis, e nem é a primeira vez que uma tensão assim se estabelece entre vocês.

Vai fazer quatro anos que estão separados. Você ficou com a casa, com o carro, com toda a parte do acordo que propôs no judicial. O Jung concordou com tudo, uma passividade que fez até a sua advogada destacar o quão obviamente ele ainda está apaixonado por você. Mas se manteve firme, não? Não pediu os papéis do divórcio por motivos fúteis — se a sua sogra não fosse tão filha da puta, talvez vocês ainda estivessem juntos.

Não tem muito o que reclamar de Jaehyun como um ex-marido, entretanto. Ele é mais que o pai dos finais de semana, sabe disso. A sua filha não sente a ausência dele, porque ele não se deixa ser ausente. Não precisa lembrá-lo de que se separou somente dele, não precisa lembrá-lo de que ainda é pai. E por mais que, às vezes, uma certa tensão como essa se estabeleça, na maioria das vezes, ele te deixa em paz.

Quer dizer...

— Sabe o que a sua filha falou pra mim ontem? — você cruza os braços. 

Ele ri, largo, o quê?

— Ela disse, ‘mamãe, seu namolado é muito feio’ — imita, com um tom de voz mais fino. — ‘O papai é mais bonito.’

Jaehyun continua rindo. Uma das mãos escapando dos bolsos da calça social para correr pelo rosto. Você, no entanto, não esboça nada senão a cara séria.

— Achou engraçado, é? — confronta, irritada. — Olha, Jaehyun, eu não quero você fazendo a cabeça da nossa filha.

Ele fica boquiaberto, ainda entre os sorrisos, a mão articula no ar, mas eu não fiz nada, se defendendo.

— Não é culpa minha se ela pensa assim — reforça. — E ela não tá nem errada, ‘cê sabe.

“Tsc, seu...”, até quer xingá-lo, esticando a mão para dar um soquinho no peito dele, mas engole o termo chulo, tal qual a mão é retida pelo homem, ainda no ar, antes de atacá-lo. A proximidade repentina te traz ainda mais pra perto. Tem que erguer o olhar para encará-lo e não se deixar abater.

— Esse namoradinho seu... — o termo no diminutivo soa debochado demais — ...ele sabe que isso não vai pra frente?

— Quem disse?

— Seus últimos relacionamentos fracassados, tentando me esquecer.

— Igual as putas que você fode, querendo me esquecer também?

— Que putas? — Sorri mais uma vez. A fala mais canalha vindo somente agora. — A última puta que eu fodi foi você.

O tapa estalado que você desfere na bochecha dele arde a pele alheia, é rápido, o pega desprevenido. Jaehyun pende a cabeça pro canto de leve, a língua empurra por dentro da boca, sob o local atingido. Até usa a palma da mão quente para circular o local. Mas é incrível como não perde a postura malandra.

— O quê? — Acaricia o próprio queixo, antes de esconder a mão no bolso de novo. — Não gosta mais de ser fodida como uma puta? Ele não te fode assim?

Você respira fundo. Poderia fechar a porta na cara dele, porém não faz.

— Ele, pelo menos... — o Jung continua — ...te fode bem?

O seu silêncio é o pior tipo de resposta possível nesse momento.

Jaehyun não segura o sorriso bobo, mordendo o lábio pra disfarçar regozijo. Ah, princesa...

— Não me chama assim — você, finalmente, se pronuncia.

— Por quê? — Ele deita a cabeça no batente da porta. — ‘Cê gostava tanto de ser a minha princesa... Não é? — Toca o seu queixo, arrastando o polegar de um lado ao outro. Ergue-se para ficar frente a frente contigo mais uma vez. — O que mais ‘cê gostava, hm? Muitas coisas, né? Era a minha princesa, mas uma princesinha tão suja, porra... Eu fazia o que fazia só pra agradar você, só pra te foder do jeitinho que gostava, lembra? — O toque do polegar sobe mais uns centímetros, escorregando, agora, por cima do seu lábio inferior. — ‘Cê lembra... É difícil esquecer, não? É difícil esquecer o papai.

— Jae...

— Shhh — a voz chia, suave. O foco dos olhos brilhantes estão na sua boca, bem onde o maldito polegar escorrega cada vez mais pra dentro, até afundar-se na sua saliva. — Comigo ‘cê não precisava pensar muito, né? Fazia o que você queria, como queria, na hora que queria. Pra que se importar, se o papai pode cuidar de tudo? Perfeito pra uma putinha boba que nem você, que só queria ser comida até o cérebro derreter, igual a porra escorrendo da buceta.

Você murmura, manhosa. Só não verbaliza nenhuma palavra porque está focada demais nas lembranças sórdidas que ele revive, e, claro, com os dois dedos que substituem o polegar dentro da sua boca.

E os dedos da outra mão do Jung se afogam entre os seus cabelos, a palma quente escorando contra a sua nuca. A sensação é tão gostosa, firme, que seu corpinho derrete, docinha. As pernas bambas só não te levam ao chão, porque o homem adentra porta a dentro contigo, fecha com os pés e te escora na parede mais próxima.

— Tô mentindo, hm? — prossegue conversando, a voz ecoando um charme caloroso pelos seus ouvidos. Você faz que não, a língua lambuzando a pele entre a saliva. Jaehyun sorri. — Não, né? O papai não mente. O papai te conhece muito, muito bem, princesa.

“Tanto que eu sei que esse cara com quem você tá saindo nem deve ter tocado em ti”, arrisca, certeiro. “Acertei, né? Ah, eu sei... Eu sei que você não daria pra ele. E por quê? Por que não tem vontade de foder com ele, hein? Por que ele não sou eu?”, o indicador escapa da sua língua, molhando pelo seu lábio superior, ao contorná-lo.

“É, é isso. É por isso. Não tem graça foder com outro senão eu, não é? Não quer contar pra mais ninguém o quão piranha você é, o quanto gosta de foder forte, de que te tratem mal”, os dedos encharcados escorrem pelo seu queixo, lambuzam de saliva pescoço abaixo, até a palma da mão se fechar na sua garganta. Porra, ele xinga, rouco. Roça o nariz ela sua bochecha, aspira o perfume do seu corpo, reconhecendo a fragrância importada que te deu de presente de casamento. “‘cê gostava até quando doía, ordinária. Me pedindo pra meter até ‘cê chorar, até as perninhas tremerem. Não importava a posição que eu te botasse, gemendo e pedindo mais, mais, igual uma cadelinha burra por pica.”

Encosta a ponta do nariz na sua, ambos de olhos fechados. O calor que as palavras te geram é tamanho que faz a sala de estar tão ampla e fresca ter a sensação térmica absurda de quente, feito a necessidade entre as suas pernas, interior de coxas se esfregando uma na outra.

E enquanto uma mão permanece adornando o seu pescoço igual um colar caro, a outra acaricia o canto do seu rosto, afetuoso.

— Vou te perguntar uma vez — ele sussurra —, e quero que você fale comigo, okay?

Você faz que sim, obediente.

Jaehyun capta o seu labio inferior com os dentes, erótico. Te faz arfar, as próprias mãos suando contra a superfície fria da parede.

— Diz pra mim, diz — ele começa — Quer que eu te foda agora?

Você resmunga, indignada. A boa consciência diz que não, te implora pra não se render, mas como se um diabinho murmurrasse no seu ombro, o corpo grita por senti-lo, por ser dele pelo menos por essa noite.

Por isso, a palavra que ecoa da sua boca é um não, só que mergulhado num tom tão docinho que só faz indicar o completo oposto do termo.

— Não? — Jaehyun imita, sarcástico.

— Não posso.

— Não pode? — e faz de novo. — Não pode, é? Não pode, papai... — Sorri, de canto, a covinha afundando no canto da boca. Leva a mão do seu pescoço para pegar a sua mandíbula, bruto. — Sobe pro nosso quarto, anda — orienta —, quero te encontrar sentadinha na nossa cama, e sem esse vestido.

É só ele te soltar pra você fazer seu caminho pelas escadas na frente dele. Jaehyun não tem pressa pra te acompanhar, sabe que será atendido, exatamente como pediu. Enquanto sobe os degraus, está retirando o blazer, em passos calmos pelo corredor oposto à porta do quarto da filha.

A porta da suíte está aberta, um sorrisinho não deixa de ressurgir na face masculina quando te vê nua, sentada sobre as panturrilhas, na cama de casal. Joga o casaco na poltrona mais próxima, trancando a porta em seguida.

Vem devagar, ignorando a ânsia estampada na sua face. O desejo exorbitante. Afrouxa a gravata, puxa o nó, deixando a peça cair no chão mesmo. Desfaz os botões da camisa nos pulsos, subindo um pouco as mangas pelo antebraço.

Quando está parado na sua frente, na beirada da cama, o olhar vai do seu rostinho mal iluminado por somente parte das luzes acesas até o teto espelhado. Mais uma vez que vai se ver virar uma putinha na minha mão, hm?

Segura nos cantos do seu rosto, os lábios tomam os seus com a mesma necessidade que você transborda ao ser facilmente deitada no colchão. As suas pernas se fecham ao redor da cintura dele, o quadril move-se loucamente para roçar o sexo já ensopadinho de tesão na braguilha dura da calça social. Não quer admitir pra si mesma, mas sentiu tanta falta disso — dele.

Jaehyun se aparta com um selinho no queixo, embora os seus resmungos queiram o manter por perto.

— Tenho que tirar isso — ele justifica, começando a puxar os botões da camisa.

Eu te ajudo, você murmura, os dedinhos correm para desafivelar o cinto, jogá-lo em um canto qualquer do quarto. Apalpa por cima da ereção, sentindo a umidade do tecido, culpa do seu roçar frenético em busca de algum prazer. Desculpa, sussurra, mordendo o lábio entre o sorriso, ao olhá-lo.

Jaehyun apenas ri, a cabeça tomba pra trás, retirando a camisa do corpo. O seu nariz se esfrega próximo às costelas dele, a boca também toca a pele quente, agora desnuda da cintura pra cima, ao passo que se encarrega de despi-lo abaixo. A língua lambe até quase no peitoral, sensual.

Quando a ereção ganha a atenção dos seus olhos, o Jung não te deixa nem tocá-la, pega na sua nuca, firme ao te domar.

— Quer na sua boquinha, ahm? — pergunta, bem baixinho. Você não consegue tirar os olhos. A ponta babadinha, um fiozinho fino se esticando até desaparecer conforme uma gotinha pinga na colcha. Saliva, faminta. — Quer meu pau fodendo a sua boca, é? Ou metendo na sua buceta? Olha pra mim! — Estala um tapa na sua bochecha, finalmente fisga o seu olhar. — Tão boba de tesão que leva pica em qualquer buraquinho, não é, princesa? Pô... — Sorri, delirante. — Quero meter tanto em você, sua cachorra.

Te deita na cama de novo, dessa vez arrastando os joelhos no colchão ao se colocar por cima. Empurra as suas coxas contra o seu torso, te abrindo inteirinha pra ele, mas logo os joelhos estão se ancorando nos ombros do Jung, numa posição que você sabe, vai fazê-lo ir tão fundo que os olhinhos já se reviram de satisfação.

Jaehyun esfrega o falo pesado pra cá e pra lá, por cima da buceta molhadinha. A bagunça úmida fica ainda maior quando surra com a cabecinha gorda bem no seu pontinho sensível, te fazendo choramingar, agarrada aos lençois da cama.

É sacana quando te olha, assistindo à sua reação de desespero. Morde o seu joelho, apontando lá embaixo finalmente, é tudo seu, meu amor, sussurrando antes de empurrar-se pra dentro.

Escutar o som prazeroso que ecoa da garganta dele te faz piscar, espremendo ainda mais tudo o que te adentra com gosto. Chama o nome dele, Jae, toda manhosinha, os braços esticados para abraçá-lo enquanto é dominada por completo.   Talvez ele estivesse certo mais cedo, você realmente se pergunta se outro cara vai te fazer sentir tão cheia, tão sedenta, tão... Argh, e quando ele começa a meter em você, tão deliciosamente fundo que se toca na região do ventre, sente doer, músculos rígidos, retesados.

Não consegue se mover, senão torcer os dedinhos dos pés de tanto prazer. Os olhos se fecham, pálpebras sendo apertadas, deixando-se ser tomada pela queimação extasiante na boca do estômago. Aí, a mente viaja de tal forma, louquinha de desejo, que não consegue emitir outro som a não ser os gemidinhos, ah, ah, ah, que eram pra ser contínuos mas são quebrados por cada choque das bolas na sua bunda.

Jaehyun ergue minimamente o torso, apenas para tapar a sua boca com a palma da mão.

— Cala a porra da boca — soa rígido, cuspindo as palavras quase num rosnado de frenesi. — Eu sei que a sua função de putinha tonta é ficar gemendo igual uma cadela quando ganha pau na buceta, mas ‘cê não quer acordar ninguém, quer?

Os seus olhinhos se arregalam de leve, faz que não, acenando.

— Isso, muito bem. — Roça a ponta do nariz pelas suas têmporas, a voz rouca ainda pertinho pra continuar conversando com você. — Não quer parar agora, não é? Hm? Não... Quer mais, quer foder mais. Quer meter até ganhar porra quentinha aí, né? Ah, princesa, dá última vez que eu enchi essa buceta de porra, também te dei um bebê. Quer mais um, ahm? — Joga os quadris com mais velocidade, impiedoso. O rosto coladinho no seu. — Quer, hm? Quer? Quer que eu lote de porra até essa bucetinha cuspir tudo pra fora, e eu socar de novo? Eu faço pra você, eu faço...

Você o deixa fazer, o que não é uma surpresa. Nem mesmo se passa pela sua mente algum consequência quando só visualiza o sorriso canalha do homem que te faz gozar duas vezes seguidas, sem pausas, sobre a cama em que ele costumava fazer a mesma coisa. Ao fim, você está tão exausta que desmonta, apaga o cérebro, nua, completamente dolorida e encharcada entre as pernas.

Quando acorda, é no mesmo horário que seu despertador costuma tocar bem cedinho, para que possa arrumar a filha pra escola. Levanta apressada, não se lembra de ter se coberto com a colcha e nem de deitar a cabeça no travesseiro, mas ignora o vestido jogado no chão e vai para o banheiro se arrumar de uma maneira apresentável para aparecer no quarto da filha.

Mas antes mesmo de abrir a porta e dizer bom dia, flor do dia, a pequena já está desperta, sentadinha na beirada da cama enquanto o pai termina de ajeitar o penteado cheio de elásticos coloridos e presilhas de cabelo.

— Bom dia, mamãe! — ela cantarola, no mesmo tom que você tem o costume de fazer para ela. — O papai dormiu aqui comigo, o papai tá aqui em casa. Olha o papai, mãe, olha! Olha!

Você não sabe o que dizer, atônita, parada no corredor, com a porta do quartinho todo colorido aberta para aquela cena. Leva o olhar para o Jung, o terno de ontem a noite intacto cobrindo o corpo, faltando apenas dar o nó da gravata e vestir o blazer. Os cabelos ainda úmidos de um banho no qual ele com certeza usou as suas coisas no banheiro da suíte.

— E, agora... — ele começa, ao finalizar o cabelo da filha. A pega no colo, de modo que possa ficar deitada por cima dos antebraços, imitando um aviãozinho no ar até a porta. — ...vamo’ tomar café, mocinha! — Arrasta a pronúncia da última palavra, teatral, enquanto os sons alegres da risada infantil preenche a casa. — Depois, o papai vai te levar pra escola, vamo’.

— Eba! — ela grita, eufórica.

Você segura no braço dele, Jae, chamando baixinho antes de deixá-lo zarpar pelo corredor até a cozinha.

— Relaxa — é o que te responde, exibindo um sorrisinho de canto. — A gente conversa mais tarde, pode ir dormir. Eu cuido das coisas aqui... Porque o papai tá em casa! — Volta a brincar com a pequena, balançando-a no ar.

— O papai tá em casaaa! — a sua filha imita de volta, até te fazendo esboçar um sorriso tímido diante de tanto entusiasmo.

make you mine

— alpha! bucky barnes x omega! reader (soulmate au)

summary || Bucky keeps his distance from you thinking you can do better than him. but he loses all his restraints when he sees you with another alpha.

warnings || SMUT. unprotected sex. alpha! bucky. alpha/omega dynamics. knotting. dirtiest dirty talk. breeding kink. heavy degradation. lactation kink. spanking. multiple orgasms. filthy bucky. jealous! bucky. possessive! bucky. PWP — MINORS DNI 🔞 if any of this makes you uncomfortable then please do not read!

I have decided to not do taglists anymore, so if you wished to be notified of my newest updates please follow @bonky-n-steeb-lib and turn on the notifications!

feminism has left the chat :)

It had been a month.

A month since you had met your soulmate, and yet you were still not bonded. A month of actually living in close quarters with him, but it was no use. A whole month of pinning after an alpha who thought you were not good enough for him.

You had met Bucky while shopping for groceries. In an aisle full of swarming people, your eyes had connected with the steel blues of the super soldier and a warmth had spread throughout your body. The way the soldier flinched a little, you were sure he felt that too.

Being an omega, you were always told you’d meet your soulmate one day. And you had patiently waited for one from that day since. You had dreamt of having an alpha to take care of you and love you. And all those dreams had come true in that grocery store aisle.

Only for them to be shattered minutes later when your alpha turned away without even talking to you. You had chased him then, you had finally found him, you weren’t just going to let him go. Maybe he hadn’t realised yet that you were soulmates, you told yourself.

Only when you ran across the store and reached your mate, did you see the other blond man standing besides him. The other man was Captain America. When you looked closer at your mate, you recognised the blue eyes and the strong set jaw. Your mate was the winter soldier.

When you had asked Bucky if he felt the same way, he had agreed but the his very next sentence had been that he wasn’t interested in pursuing you. The fact that he acknowledged you as his soulmate but still rejected you hurt the most.

It was as if he didn’t even give you a chance to show… how good you could be. You nearly wanted to cry from instinct but had stopped when Steve advised the two of you to talk about this in private.

You had opened gawked when you’d walked into the avengers tower. Knowing that your mate was an avenger had made your chest swell with pride. But all that had been a month ago, and since then you’d been living with the avengers.

The laws around soulmates weren’t as strict as they once were. It wasn’t a compulsion to be with each other anymore as it was years before. But then the law stated to at least live with each other for a month before deciding to override your biology.

The avengers were all kind to you and most importantly they didn’t pity you. Over time you had made a few friends, even a few alphas included. Steve had turned out to be a great friend and you didn’t feel unsafe around the alpha.

Though you did have a guess that Bucky didn’t like you hanging around Steve. You could smell the change in Bucky’s scent and the suppressed growls he gave when you saw you with any other alpha, but especially Steve. And that fueled you to be with Steve even more.

You tried talking to Bucky nearly everyday, but he had made it a point to completely avoid you at all costs. A few days back though, you had finally found him in his room, watching some match on TV.

“Why are you avoiding me? Am I not… am I not good enough for you?” Hurt was clearly lacing your voice as you spoke. “No no. It’s not you.” He replied and you scoffed. “Be honest with me Bucky. Do you have someone else in your life?”

“No. There’s no one else. And I’m being honest with you! I’m the shell of a man I once was. You deserve someone better than me!” He took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, “The laws are much lenient now. You can have a happy life with… someone else.”

You could clearly see that it hurt him to say that. But you couldn’t understand why he would say that. He was the prime example of an alpha and you were sure any omega would be happy to have him, especially you. But before you could say so, he walked out of his own room.

Now, only two days were left for your legal stay over here to end. After that, you’d be back to your house but you weren’t sure if you could live your life like before anymore. The fact that you were rejected by your mate would always be playing in your mind.

Also, at this point, you’d come to crave Bucky’s scent. He smelled of dark spices and something that was distinctly him. His alpha scent was unlike any other you had scented. So you knew your inner omega was going to get disappointed when you couldn’t smell your alpha anymore.

You couldn’t keep thinking these thoughts though, as they would only hurt you. You needed to feel a little numb for some time; needed to go to a place where it would only be you and not even your thoughts would disturb you. You wanted to breathe.

The indoor swimming pool in the tower was huge and no one ever visited it. It was dark outside now and you were sure everyone had something important to do than swim. Ever since you’d seen the pool, you had wanted to take a dip but you were too shy to do it before.

But now knowing that only a few days were left of staying here you went for it. As predicted, the pool was empty and the faint sloshing of water was the only thing audible. This place was perfect for you to connect yourself. You couldn’t wait anymore, and jumped in like a kid at a summer camp, excited and unskilled.

You were still wearing a loose shirt and sweatpants but you didn’t care as you immersed yourself in the warm water. You didn’t necessarily swim, but rather you just peacefully floated. It was a calm, serene moment that no one could snatch away from you.

“Hello!” You opened your eyes when you heard the familiar voice. “Hi Steve!” You greeted the alpha. The pool was huge and you were in the shallower parts so it wasn’t a difficulty to stand on your toes. “You don’t mind me being here right?” Steve asked.

“Of course not!” You smiled as Steve pulled up the legs of pants and dipped his feet in the water as he sat at the corner of the pool. Seeing him enjoying the moment like this made you realise that you weren’t seeing captain America, but rather you were looking at Steve Rogers.

You didn’t talk further as you both relaxed and found peace in the moment. Some more time passed before Steve spoke up, “Bucky’s not a bad guy. He likes you too, a lot. He’s just…” you stopped him before he said anything ahead. “Don’t! Steve, I came here to not think about him. Please don’t ruin the moment.” Steve nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry. Just don’t stop visiting here after this is done. We’ll all miss you.” You hummed along with him. “Yeah. I’ll miss you guys too.” The silence between you and Steve was comfortable and not intimidating. But a mischievous smile spread across your lips when you came up with a fun idea.

You collected some water in your hand before throwing it in Steve’s direction. “Hey!” Steve complained when the droplets landed on his face. He giggled before splashing some water back at you. And that was all it took for the to and fro to begin. Steve was drenched too as you both kept on playing.

But then you both froze when you heard the loud growl.

Bucky was just passing through the halls when he scented you. You didn’t know this, but Bucky always kept an eye over you. He found it impossible to keep you away from his eyesight and your scent, oh god, your scent always pulled him in like a flame to a moth.

Only he knew how much willpower it took to stay away from you and not bite your neck everytime he saw you. He knew you were his destined mate right when he had scented you at the grocery store, but he knew better than to carry on with his inner urges.

But that was until he saw you with Steve. wet and laughing. Your shirt was sticking to your chest and your nipples were clearly visible through it, but not only he could see it, but also Steve, another alpha. Seeing you mingle with Steve made all his alpha instincts flare up and he couldn’t stop the growl that ripped from his throat.

You were his mate, how dare the other alpha even think he could see you like this, much less play with you?

The possessive alpha in him came out like a roaring beast, breaking free of the lies he’d fed himself about how he felt about you. All he knew at the moment was that his omega was nearly naked in front of some other unbonded alpha.

“Omega!” You shivered when you heard Bucky use his alpha voice. You were dying for him to get possessive over you and if you knew that all it took was a little jealousy, you would’ve done this a long time back.

“Come with me.” But you still didn’t move from your spot. “Now!” He commanded. You slowly got up from the pool as water slid down your body and looking at the sight, Bucky’s hard length pressed painfully against the inside of his pants.

“What if I don’t?” You replied as you started drying yourself with a towel. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you, but you wanted to make him work for it. You could see him fuming at your reply and you smiled to yourself.

“Omega! You better come with you or I’ll put you on my shoulder and take you.” Bucky growled out. Steve didn’t stop him as he knew alphas were mortally dangerous to everyone but their mates. If he did interfere, it would be interpreted as if he was challenging Bucky.

Bucky was out of control, yes, but you held his key.

You started walking out as if Bucky wasn’t even there and he followed you like a dog running behind a bone. You could feel his breaths on your neck and you could clearly smell his arousal and you were sure he could scent you too.

When you entered your room, Bucky followed you closely and he locked the door shut. He called you by your name but you didn’t respond and so he held your hand and spun you around, “Omega, look at me.”

You blinked your eyes stupidly as you looked up at him. His blue eyes were burning with lust and the air between you was thick with tension. “Tell me you want me or I’ll go away right now. Because I can’t control myself anymore.” His voice was raspy with need.

You were making him lose control, and nothing was hotter than that. You placed your hand on his heated cheek and held him gently for a moment. He nuzzled into your hand and purred at the gesture. “Yes Bucky, I want you.”

That was all the green signal he needed to smash his lips with yours. His kiss was ravishing and passionate yet wet and needy. His hands groped your body as he snaked his hands below to knead your ass through the wet clothes.

“You’re mine omega, only mine.” He growled against your lips before kissing you hard again. He held the collar of your dress before tearing it right through the middle. You gasped as the wet cloth fell down on the floor with a loud thunk. You shivered as your wet skin was now exposed to the cold air.

His metal hand was cold unlike his flesh hand which was leaving behind a burning hot trail on your skin as he ran his hand over your naked body. He discarded your pants in a quick movement and all you could do was suck in a breath.

“Bucky!” your voice was nearly a squeal as he picked you up and placed you on the bed. You gawked at him as he removed his clothes, layer by layer. His body was made up of hard planes and corded muscles.

He hesitated for a moment and you could smell the change in his scent. His fingers traced the scars littering his shoulder and you realised the cause of his distress. “The scars are just a proof of how brave my alpha is.”

Bucky smiled down at you before covering your body with his. His hands kneaded your tits before rolling your nipples in between his fingers. You moaned out when Bucky pinched your nipples harshly, “You’re so sweet omega mine, but then why do you behave like a whore?”

Your eyes flew wide at his words but at the same time, you grew wetter at your core. Bucky’s metal arm kept flicking your nipples while his flesh arm dipped in your cunt and felt the wetness there. “You like this don’t you? You like it rough and hard.”

Bucky’s filthy words were making you even more aroused. You squirmed as you silently begged for more but Bucky was a step ahead of you as he flipped you over on your stomach and held you down.

“I’m gonna give it to you just like you want it.” You could feel his hard length pressing against your ass and you wiggled. Bucky gave a short mocking laugh before slapping your ass, hard. “Ahh!” You nearly screamed as the spank took you by surprise.

At this point Bucky would do literally anything and you would like it. “Look at you, filthy whore. Do you want me to spank you? Do you want your alpha to punish you till you learn your lesson?”

“Oh my god Bucky!” You whimpered at the thought of Bucky disciplining you. “You know better than to call me just Bucky. See, now you’ve earned yourself another spank.” He mocked before laying a slap on your other ass cheek. The pain stung for a moment before melting into pleasure.

“Alpha.. please fuck me!” Your face was pressed against the pillows but Bucky’s super hearing picked out your words. You felt him rub his thick cock over your pussy, getting it wet with your slick, before positioning it at your entrance. “As you wish.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as Bucky’s thick, veiny length entered your clenching hole. Bucky was big, bigger than even most alphas. And the fact that such a magnificent alpha was all yours made you preen.

He gave you some time to settle before beginning to thrust into you. His cock rubbed all your spots deliciously and every single moment was heightened with Bucky’s scent seeping into all your senses. You were covered with Bucky’s essence inside out, and you hadn’t ever felt more satisfied.

You tried pushing back onto Bucky’s cock as he was going slow at first to let you adjust. But when he noticed that, he held your hips still and began increasing his speed. The change in the rhythm made stars burst behind your eyelid.

He was holding you tight enough such that you couldn’t move and the animalistic and possessive nature of the whole act was making your omega sing with pleasure. “Can he fuck you like this?” Bucky was seething as he asked you.

“No. No alpha… only you!” He was ramming into you like a man possessed and all you could do, was take it. “Good girl.” Listening to Bucky call you good girl was all you needed to clench down on him. You writhed on the bed as you came and Bucky kept fucking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck.. you’re so tight omega. See, you can be good, you can be so good for me and yet you chose to be a whore and show yourself to that alpha. Didn’t think I’d notice huh? Don’t worry, I’m gonna fuck you till you get disciplined into a good omega… do you know how a good omega behaves?”

You could clearly hear Bucky’s words as you trembled with aftershocks. You were too sensitive and yet Bucky’s pace was unrelenting. And on top of that, you feared Bucky’s words would make you cum again. Just imagining the scenarios Bucky was saying was putting your brain into a overdrive.

“I asked you something omega.” You came back to the land of living when you felt him spank your ass in quick succession. “Aahh! Bucky!.. Alpha!.. No I..” your words were lost when Bucky nailed your spot over and over again.

“You’re so cockdrunk, you can’t even speak. But I’ll tell you. A good omega waits for her alpha to come home and keeps his cock warm. You’ll do that for me? You’ll keep me nice and warm when I come home?”

You had lost all coherent thoughts and all that now mattered was your alpha. “Yes! Yes alpha!” You chanted uncaring of what he was even saying. You could feel yourself get close again and you clutched the sheets. “I can feel you clenching around me. Go ahead, cum for me omega.”

You tumbled head first into the orgasm and your body shook with the overwhelming intensity. Your grip over the covers went slack as your entire body nearly melted into the bed. Bucky could feel you go completely pliant under him.

By now Bucky’s knot had started swelling a little and you were loving the little pull it gave your walls as it dragged against them. “God!.. you’re milking me so well. Fuck. Gonna cum in you omega, gonna fill you up with my cum and mark your neck. You want that?”

You were openly drooling on the pillows and you nodded blankly. Your eyes were half droopy and his alpha scent was calming you. “I’ve fucked you dumb, haven’t I?” He groaned when your walls kept on pulsating around his hot length.

“I’m gonna knot you so well, you’d be swollen and full of my pups in no time. Gonna breed you on our first night itself.” Bucky smirked as he felt you visibly shiver with excitement. “You’d look so beautiful, bred full of my pups and carrying my mark. Bet the other alphas wouldn’t doubt who you belonged to.”

“Alpha.. breed me!” You said weakly. Your mind was filled with the thoughts of being a good omega and carrying your alphas pups. Bucky’s flesh hand travelled to your tits while his metal one still held you down.

“These would be all swollen and leaking.” He said as he kneaded your breasts. “You’d let me taste your nectar wouldn’t you?” His fingers tweaked your nipples and you moaned out like a whore. “God, I can’t wait to see your tits leak.”

Bucky pushed as deep inside you as he could and you felt his knot swell inside you. “Going to make you mine.” You felt Bucky’s hot seed spurt inside you and the feeling made you cum again. Bucky’s hot tongue licked your mating gland before he sank his teeth deep into the skin.

You felt the bond lock into place as he claimed you. You felt as if you shattered into a thousand pieces and Bucky’s bond built you back again as his. The world around you turned into soft clouds and you floated upon them like a dream. You were sated and full, just like you always wanted.

When you came back, you were still lying on your side on the bed with Bucky behind you, mumbling praises into your ear as he ran his fingertips over your skin. His knot was still locking you in place and you squirmed a little.

“I’m so proud of you my sweet omega. You’re the best…” he stopped his whispers when he noticed you were back. He kissed your ear and cheek and you turned your face around to weakly kiss him on his lips.

“Are you good?” His eyes were clearly worried and you gave him a dopey smile. “Yeah. Are you?” You knew he was good, but you still wanted to ask. “Yeah. Did I… did I hurt you?” You shook your head and Bucky sighed with relief.

“Did you like it? I’m sorry if you didn’t.. I just went a little overboard I guess.” He sounded dejected and you quickly tried to move around but then you both groaned as you were still tied together. “Slow down.” Bucky rubbed your arms reassuringly.

“Bucky, I’ve been pestering your ass for the past whole month to make me yours and I came three times or probably more. Of course I liked it!” Bucky chuckled at your explanation. “Yeah. Yeah, good.”

“You know, Steve and I were just..” you stopped when you heard him growl at the other alphas name. “Okay okay. We’ll talk about that later. God, you’re so possessive. I like it though.”

“Hmm… you’re so sweet omega, I can’t help being all possessive.” He tightened his arms around you. “You’re all mine now. Though I suppose I gotta make you cum more so that you forget every other alpha in existence.” You playfully slapped his bulging arm as you laughed.

Yeah, this big stupid possessive alpha was all yours, only yours.

Workaholic 2 | Jeon Jungkook

"are you giving up already baby? it hasn't even been five minutes."

smut

ceo!jungkook x wife!reader

summary : you don’t know how to ride a dildo, so who’s going to teach you?

WARNING : masturbation, dildo use, teasing, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, encouragement, degradation, riding, squirting, overstimulation

word count : 2.8k

part 1

-

the unexpected gift from one of your girl friends scream out to you, seeking your attention as you've been intentionally avoiding it.

it's tempting, to say the least as it's all you've been thinking about today.

you had never owned a dildo you before, never even put much consideration into buying one because by the time you did want one, jungkook was already fucking you within six months of your guy's relationship.

it's crazy how time flies by so fast and now you're both married.

the clock has only strike five in the afternoon and jungkook doesn't return home until god knows when, but most likely after midnight.

you're consumed by frustration, completely bored out of your mind as you crave for something fun and exciting, but the only thing that pops in your mind is fucking yourself with the realistic looking dick.

you tried your best to stop yourself cause you know jungkook wouldn't be pleased with it, but you give in, letting your desires get the best of you as you glide out of your bed.

you can't afford to make a mess on the bed again so you grab the lube from the nightstand before you enter the spacious bathroom, setting the toy down by the bathtub.

you sit in a moment of silence as you observe it. you'd never say it's the same size as jungkook's. it's nothing compared to his, but your pussy still aches in excitement to be filled.

you pull your silky nightgown up your thighs and rub the lube around the toy before slowly inserting it inside you.

"f-fuck," you whine, biting your bottom lip.

you finally sink all the way down and the silicon plunges deep inside your needy hole, being sucked so tight that you almost feel sorry.

you never thought a fake dick could make you feel this full.

you begin to bounce up and down, moaning from how good it feels to be filled up again as you imagine the girth of your husband's cock.

you think of the way he treats you during sex, the way he tells you what to do and how to do it. you imagine him laying down, hands on your ass as he praises you for being such a good girl.

he'd spank your ass every time you did something wrong or he'd fuck you harder just to hear your desperate little cries.

he'd do everything he can to make you feel good and act like a slut begging for more.

after a couple minutes, you scrunch your face while focusing on your building orgasm, but it comes and goes. one second you feel your orgasm approaching and one second it stops.

you don't usually ride jungkook and if you had, it was only for a brief second before he'd flip you on your back and fuck you himself. he's always been one to take control, he loves it, and you never minded it.

but one consequence of jungkook fucking you all the time is that you don't even know how to fuck yourself.

"s-shit," you moan, adjusting yourself from angle to angle to find your g-spot. frustration begins to build up and you whine.

"i want to c-cum.. please," you beg pathetically while speeding up the pace. you can almost feel your g-spot as your face contorts in pleasure with small frustrated tears slipping down your cheeks.

you're too focused on your orgasm to have seen the shadow in the bedroom, to see your husband who's arrived home a couple minutes ago expecting to be greeted by his wife, but is greeted by something naughty instead.

he raises a brow, listening to your shameless moans.

but what's also shameless is leaving the door wide open, giving anyone who enters the room a chance to see you desperately chasing an orgasm.

if jungkook was shocked, he didn't show it, but instead, he smirks in amusement.

he crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame as he debates whether to interrupt or not. but he's gotta let his wife know that her sweet husband's home.

"keep going baby, you're almost there," jungkook speaks and immediately you're body stills, heart skipping a beat at the sound of your husband's voice.

your eyes catch his.

"j-jungkook," you stutter, instantly feeling embarrassed at being caught. you quickly remove yourself from the toy, standing up on your wobbly feet.

but blood rushes to your cheeks at how wet you've made the toy, feeling sticky liquid drip down the inside of your thigh.

"i-i..." you think of what to say, trying to hide your wetness by pulling your nightgown down.

"why'd you stop?.... i was enjoying the view," jungkook inquires, poking the inside of his mouth to hide the smug grin that threatens to escape.

you nervously bite your lip, hands fidgeting with each other as your gaze remains low to avoid his strong gaze.

"oh baby," he coos, walking toward you. "you were enjoying yourself, weren't you?" he smirks.

your cheeks get warmer and your heart beats like crazy.

"y-yes," you reply.

jungkook grips your chin, forcing you to look at him as he slightly bites his lips. he can feel his cock starting to harden. how could it not?

"where'd you get the toy huh?" jungkook asks.

he always keeps track of his bank account. he knows what you purchase and how much it cost, but never once did he see any purchase from a sex shop.

"areum gifted it to me," you answer truthfully.

jungkook raises a brow as he tilts his head.

"baby. why would she buy you a fake dick when there's a real one right here?" he says, bringing your warm hand to the growing cock in his pants.

"it was just a gift," you say, shifting uncomfortably on your feet.

jungkook looks down.

"you're dripping wet.. are you sure someone didn't just fuck their cum in you?" he jokes.

"shut up," you let out, a small shy smile plastering your face.

"yeah?" he smirks.

you shriek in surprise when jungkook lifts you up on the bathroom counter, immediately diving into your dripping pussy without a warning.

"ah!- fuck!" you cry, feeling him force your legs open even wider. he lifts your legs to rest on top his shoulder as dives into your clit, two fingers inserting themselves inside your pussy.

"hmm you're so good-"

your breath gets knocked out of you as his fingers play with the inside of you, poking every sensitive spot that you have.

your orgasm builds up fast, it always does when jungkook's the one doing it.

"ahh fuck," you scream, hands gripping the counter.

he pulls away from your clit, continuing his strokes with his fingers as he looks at you, mouth wet from your slick.

"you couldn't find it, could you?" jungkook asks, although he already knows the answer.

you breath rapidly, trying to comprehend his words while the pleasure builds up in your body.

"w-what?" you let out.

"the spot that makes you go absolutely fucking crazy.." he says, giving a crooked smile.

"hmm," you hum, nodding your head.

you scream loudly when he suddenly touches it.

"jungkook!" you cry, reaching his hair to burry his face deeper, but instead you yelp when he suddenly picks you up.

your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you toward the neatly made bed.

"jungkook, the sheets," you try to warn, but he shuts you up, kissing your cherry flavored lips.

he removes his clothes then flips you over, having you straddle his toned thighs.

"what are you doing?" you question, not used to being in this position.

he leans half of his body against the bed frame, getting comfortable before he nods his head at his hard big cock.

"w-what?" you blink.

"ride it baby."

he waits patiently, staring deep into your shy eyes as you hesitate.

you hover above his aching member, your hands on his shoulder to support your weight as you adjust yourself before gradually sinking down.

"ah shit.." you exhale, biting your bottom lip at how much fuller his cock is compared to the stupid toy.

you look deep into his handsome eyes, breathing in his minty breath against your face. you caress his cheek, holding in a loud moan from how deep he is.

your other hand goes down caress his hard abs, loving the feeling of how tone they feel against your small hand.

"go on baby, bounce on it," he demands. "bounce on it like you were fucking that stupid toy," he says, slapping your ass harshly.

you bounce once and moan loudly, causing jungkook to laugh mockingly.

"awe baby, does my cock feel that good?" he sniggers.

you move up and down again, trying to keep a constant pace as you hold onto his shoulders tightly.

"yess," you puff.

jungkook thinks your nightgown looks like a dream on you, but not as dreamy as your tits that he desperately needs to see.

he lifts the silky nightgown above your chest, watching your beautiful tits jiggle every time you smash down on his cock.

sweat builds up on your forehead and neck, your hair sticking to the skin as you gasp for air.

jungkook sees you concentrating hard, trying to remain a constant pace while also finding your wondrous g-spot, but it takes you a while.

he finds it amusing that you hardly know how to fuck yourself.

"please.. i need to cum," you cry out, voice sounding absolutely whiny and slutty.

"is my wife needy to cum?" he grunts, one hand on your hips while the other squeezes your tits.

"y-yes jungkook! i haven't cum.. in soo l-long.. i just need your cock to fuck me soo good" you confess, a little tear streaming down your pink cheek.

"you haven't cum in so long?" he laughs wickedly, "is that why you're acting like a bitch in heat yeah?" he smacks your tits and you whine from how much pleasure that brings you.

"i guess you're just my slutty wife who's always begging to get fucked," he comments and you tighten around him.

"yes i'm such a slutty wife," you moan out, shutting your eyes for brief second.

"fuck y/n, you're the most beautiful person ever," he tells you, groaning in pleasure. he feels his cock hardening even more than it was before and he grits his teeth.

"i- love you," you cry with the most genuine tone while also looking so slutty.

"yeah?" he teases, knowing you hate it when he doesn't say those three words back.

"i love you too," he grunts, feeling himself about to explode his seeds into you, but he holds it.

he's learned how to control his orgasms when it comes to you, especially since you make him cum within minutes of sex.

jungkook hears your breath become significantly irregular, your thighs quivering from your muscles becoming weak.

"j-jung-" you can barely mutter, body becoming tired. "help me p-please," you beg.

he wanted to see how long it'd take you to ask for help, apparently it took a while as you were determined to make yourself cum on his cock.

"want me to take over?" he inquires while pulling your nightgown over your head to reveal all of your bare body.

"yes please," you plead.

"come on baby you can do it, learn how to make yourself fall apart on me," he encourages, placing one arm over your back to support your tired body while the other grabs a hold of your sweaty neck.

he loves this view.

"i- can't," you whine, completely exhausted.

"you can. i know my good girl can do anything for me," he says with a lopsided smile. he nods his head to motivate you to go on.

you look like you're mad, eyebrows scrunched and teeth gritted, but to jungkook it's cute. he knows you're just trying to push yourself to do as he says while his sweet voice helps soothe your doubts and distress.

"you know that spot i touch? the spot that makes you squirt like crazy" he asks in a whisper, and your pussy drips even more at the memories.

"y-es," you mutter.

"try and find it," he commands.

"i did- i tried to find it, but i cou-"

"try and find it," jungkook repeats in a stern tone, pulling you closer.

you gulp down the lump in your throat before forcing yourself to slowly bounce on his still hard cock.

you angle yourself and slam down, not feeling that familiar toe curling pleasure. you try again... over and over as you try to keep a pace going.

you whine at how good he feels though as he reaches places inside you that you didn't even know were there.

"you're not trying hard enough," he chuckles, biting his lip.

you furrow your brows.

"i am trying so- hard right now," you groan, sweat beginning to drip down your neck again.

he chuckles in amusement.

you lean down to his ear to find another angle.

"can i get a hint?" you murmur softly, eyes looking so innocent and desperate. there's a pout on your lip as you wait for him to answer.

"are you giving up already baby? it hasn't even been five minutes," he tells you and you close your eyes in exasperation.

you just want to cum. your pussy is screaming at you, begging, crying, tightening in pure desperation.

you don't know if you can please him this time.

"my wife is such a slut," jungkook groans, pushing the sweaty hairs that cover your pretty face.

he could cum from your face alone.

your chest heaves up and down rapidly from how out of breath you are, but you remain in action.

and after a few seconds, jungkook gives in, not wanting you to overwork yourself anymore.

"stop," he commands and you instantly halt your actions, gulping down a breath.

he caresses your hot cheeks and pecks your lip.

"sink your pussy all the way down."

you immediately do as he says and sink all the down.

he grabs your hands, placing one of them on his pec and the other on your stomach. he pushes your hand against your stomach and you feel a bulge.

"feel that?" jungkook inquired with a smirk.

"f-fuck yes," you moan, extremely turned on at how big his dick is to the point where you can feel it through your stomach.

"move forward slightly, toward me," he instructs and that's when you feel it.

"oh!" you yelp, feeling air get knocked out of your lungs as you body falls forward on jungkook, already feeling yourself shake from a coming orgasm.

"ahhh! f-fuck!" you scream from the familiar overwhelming pleasurable feeling that you love so goddamn much.

you roughly bounce on his creamy cock, going cross eyed for a split second at the continuous pounding against your g-spot.

jungkook groans at that.

"yeah baby, just like that," he lowly mutters.

your nails dig into his skin and your thighs shake uncontrollably. you're unable to control your body anymore as you feel like you're floating on air.

all the sudden your tired body becomes so energetic, knowing well that you're about to get you've wanted this whole day.

"it feels so good!" you sob.

"you feel that yeah?" jungkook chuckles. "feel that wet spongy spot that is making you act like a fucking whore?" he spits, eyes dark.

you nod your head.

"keep that in mind.. so that the next time you fuck yourself on dumb fucking toy without my permission, you'll know that pathetic toy won't even reach it. only i can," he spits and his words are enough to bring you to heaven as you moan like the sluttiest whore in the world.

your pussy clenches, forcing jungkook's cock out of your hole as you squirt all over the bed and his thighs.

jungkook rubs your clit rapidly and you scream even more as you fall into his arms, but he holds you up.

"fuck jungkook!" you sob, gushing another set of liquid down on the bed.

your body convulses so hard that you're unable to remove jungkook's hands away from overstimulating you.

he rubs your clit a couple more times and your body completely gives out as you see black for a brief moment, which is when he finally stops.

you're gasping for air as you open your eyes and jungkook quickly puts you on your back as he checks to make sure you're okay.

once you regain your breath which takes a couple minutes, jungkook gently caresses your cheeks to wipe the tears from off your face.

"you okay?" he asks, a chuckle escaping his lips.

you feel like you're still in heaven as the euphoric feeling remains.

you smile euphorically as you giggle.

"that was so good," you tell him.

"hmm yeah?" jungkook bites his lip, satisfied at how happy you look right now. that's all he ever wants to see.

"better than that fucking dildo huh?" he spits.

you blush, looking away for a brief second before you return your gaze back to him.

"i didn't know you were coming home early," you say.

he chuckles, kissing your lips.

"i actually have something to tell you," jungkook says and your heart stops for a second as you raise a brow, feeling nervous.

"what is it?" you ask.

"i took the whole month off."

you gasp loudly, eyes wide as you sit up.

"wait really?" you say, excitement filling your eyes. a bright smile appears on your face as a dash of hope paints your heart.

jungkook loves your reaction, feeling his heart flutter at finally getting the chance the spend time with his wife.

you hug him.

you feel emotional. happy, excited, overjoyed. everything sounds like a dream come true.

you pull away from the hug, staring into his loving eyes.

"why all the sudden?" you inquire.

"i haven't been able to spend much time with you and i'm sorry. i know you've been feeling lonely."

you couldn't help it, but your heart warms as tears prickle at the corner of your eyes.

jungkook notices.

"everyday i'm at work, i miss you," he says.

"i miss you like crazy all the time," you cry, tears streaming down.

he pulls you into a tight hug again... and you feel the weight fall off your shoulders.

Mine (18+ ONLY)

DBF!Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Requested by @montyfandomlove and @hausofwhores <3

WC: 1.3k words

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY), DBF!Hotch, Age gap (still placing reader at mid-twenties), p in v, unprotected sex (don't try at home), slightly possessive Hotch, dirty talk, cursing, creampie aaand that's all I can think about rn but lmk if I miss anything!

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Your bedroom door creaked a little as it opened. Aaron’s silhouette was barely visible as he slithered into the room and slowly shut the door behind him.

In the dark, you tugged your comforter up to hide your smirk. He probably thought you were asleep, but you’d been expecting him for some time now. Ever since you heard your father telling him he could stay the night, you knew Aaron would sneak into your room at some point.

It was late, just past one AM. The family party had ended just a few hours prior, and the rest of the household had already fallen into a deep, drunken slumber.

Your dad had just gotten a promotion, and he wanted to remain on his boss’s good side. He’d been insisting on introducing you to his boss’s son, and you didn’t really feel like you had a choice.

Of course, nobody knew about you and Aaron, so you had to play pretend. All night, you had to flirt and laugh and chat up some guy you were utterly uninterested in. You even had to dance with him, your bodies much too close together.

Still, there was a bit of perverse pleasure in seeing Aaron’s clenched jaw and darkening gaze. If anything, the only upside to the whole thing was that he was getting jealous, and that he’d be even more possessive later on because of it. 

Maybe that was why you’d winked at him from the dancefloor, your hips moving in that way you knew drove him crazy. 

You felt the mattress sink behind you as he lay down, his heat engulfing you almost immediately. His fingers tenderly tucked an errand strand of hair behind your ear, and he bent to kiss your neck. 

“Wake up, sweetness,” he whispered against your skin, pulling down the comforter to reveal more of you.

“I’m trying to sleep,” you murmured, still smirking. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips moved up to your jaw, a wistful sigh escaping you. He hummed in thought, and you tensed as he reached up to your breast, teasing your already-hardened nipple. 

“Oh, yeah? Were you dreaming of me?”

“Aaron, please,” you sighed.

“Please what?” He tsked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think I’d come to stake my claim on you once more. It seems like I have to keep reminding you.”

You bit your lower lip as you felt him slide the strap of your tank top off your shoulder, pushing it further down. He pressed his body flush against yours, his clothed bulge pressed insistently against your ass.  

Oh, you didn’t mind his reminders at all, but still, you said, “We have to keep up appearances.”

He grunted, acquiescing to your reasoning just a little, but not happy about it in the slightest. 

“I’m gonna kill him, I swear,” he growled close to your ear, nipping on your earlobe.

You feigned ignorance. “Who?”

“All of them. That silly little boy toy you used all night, your dad for even suggesting bringing him here, and that smug boss of his.” He grabbed your hip, grinding hard against you. “You’re mine.”

“But I didn’t–” you began, but he cut you off by sucking on the sensitive skin of your neck, hard enough that you knew he’d leave a mark. “A-Aaron!”

He shifted his hips only to tug down his pants with one hand, while his other hand grabbed your face to bring your lips to his. It was a sloppy, needy kiss, his tongue immediately tangling with yours. 

You melted into him, devouring his mouth with equal fervor. You grazed his bottom lip with your teeth, reaching back to try and touch him.

He snaked a hand into your shorts, cupping your aching cunt. He groaned as he felt how wet you already were, deft fingers slipping through your folds.

“Honey, you’re soaked,” he rasped. “You like the idea of being mine, don’t you? You know that nobody else can make this pussy feel half as good as I do.”

You let out a breathy moan at his words, clenching around nothing. This didn’t go unnoticed by him, so he smirked. But before you could shift onto your side to face him, he pulled away.

“Say it for me. I want to hear you say it.”

“You make my pussy feel so fucking good, Aaron. No one can touch me like you do.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl for me,” he praised, planting a few more kisses on your lips. “Lie down on your stomach.”

You nodded, immediately obeying. You lifted your hips so he could pull your shorts down, and you felt his fingers probing your slit once more.

“Don’t tease,” you whined.

He tsked in disapproval. “I’m being quite generous. You teased me plenty today, but I just can’t wait to feel you squeezing my cock.”

With that being said, you felt the aforementioned lining up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. You gripped the sheets beneath you tightly, pushing your hips back a little. 

You mewled into your pillow as he fully sank in. His hands gripped your hips as he found a rhythm — quick and shallow at first, but then getting longer and deeper. He hit a spot that made you bite down on your fist to keep you from crying out, eyes screwed shut.

“Fuck, so tight…” he grunted. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“S-s-so good, daddy. Please d-don’t stop,” you whimpered.

His grip tightened, and he thrust harder. For a moment, you didn’t even care that the sound of skin slapping against skin was only getting louder. 

When you were just beginning to feel that coil in your stomach tightening, he pulled out, making you grunt in frustration.

“On your back,” he urged. “I want to look at your pretty face when I fill you up.”

You flipped over, wrapping your legs around his waist as he settled between them. He wasted no time slipping back into you, his chest pressed against yours. 

You raked your fingers through his hair as you brought him down to kiss you. He groaned into your mouth as he found a rhythm once more, and you dug the heels of your feet into his back to try and drive him deeper.

“I’m so close,” you breathed. “Don’t stop, Aaron, please.”

“I can feel it. Think you’ll be able to keep from crying out, sweetheart?” 

You nodded quickly, pursing your lips as if to emphasize. He chuckled a little, kissing the tip of your nose.

Then, he pulled back to look down at you, bringing a hand down to stroke your clit in time with his thrusts. Your muscles tensed at the added stimulation, a pitiful whimper in your throat. 

His movements became quicker and more erratic as he also neared his release. Your eyes rolled back into your skull as pleasure seized you in its tight grip. 

There was a trail of white hot fire down your spine as your back arched off the mattress. You bit down hard on your bottom lip as you finally came, cunt clenching him hard.

Aaron groaned your name as he reached his own orgasm, his cock twitching as he spilled inside of you. He rode it out with a few shallow thrusts before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you and pulling you into his arms.

“See? All mine,” he panted, looking down at the mess he’d made.

“All yours,” you assured, tilting your face so you could kiss him. 

“Don’t think I’m done with you, though. I’ll clean you up, but I have to make sure you’re thoroughly marked. Can’t have you forgetting any time soon.”

You shivered at his words. You were in for a long night, but you couldn’t find it in you to complain.

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I THOUGHT YOU KNEW

pairings: theodore nott x reader

word count: 0.9k

summary: “i thought you knew?” “you thought i knew we were dating?” “yes!” “how would i know that, nott, you never told me.”

Theodore Nott had dead eyes. That was something you had learned early on in your friendship with the boy; never expect his eyes to tell you anything. But, right now, you couldn’t help but wonder if your own advice was wrong because the look he was giving you in the moment was the farthest thing to dead. Alive.

Theodore’s eyes were ablazed, like you had lit a match in his face just as he had done with his cigarettes the night before. They looked on fire as he glared off at you, standing and chatting with some Ravenclaw boy who had decided to make the stupid of going to a slytherin party and talking to Theo’s girl.

It was a common fact that you and Theo had something, everyone knew. Well, maybe except for you.

Maybe that’s why you hadn’t expected for Theodore to waltz up to you and your new friend and throw an arm over your shoulder, and stand and listen to you too talk, not saying a word.

“Think we should get out of here?” Was the first thing he said to you, well, whispered into your ear, pulling you closer.

“I’m okay here, Teddy,” you said. Theo visible softened, melting into you at the nickname only you were allowed to call him. “You can go, though. I’ll be alright, promise.”

Theo smiled at you as you patted his arm that was wrapped around your shoulder, watching as your attention drifted back to whoever this guy was. He sighed.

“I know,” Theo started before your Ravenclaw friend interrupted.

“Yeah, mate, we’ll be okay,” he said. Theo hardened, dead eyes becoming colder as he took his arm off your shoulder, stepping forward and shoving the guy.

“Was I fucking talking to you, mate?” he spit.

“Woah!” you cut, pulling Theo back with your hand to his chest, “What the hell, Theo?”

“Yeah,” the Raveclaw pants. “What the hell, Nott? Calm down!”

Theodore sneers, glaring harshly ate the boy before hissing, “Fuck off,” and pushing past him and bumping his shoulder aggressively as he makes his way out of the common room.

Staring of at his fuming figure you quickly apologize to the boy before chasing off after Theo. When you find him, he’s angrily pacing through the hallway, running a hand through his hair.

“Theo,” you state angrily. Theo’s head whips to where you stand before shaking his head and choosing to walk away from you and down the hall.

“Theo!” you yell, walking quickly behind him. “What the fuck was that about? Can you wait for a second and talk to me?”

Theo stops, allowing you to catch up to him. You can practically see the steam coming out when he turns to you. “What am I supposed to do?” he asks bitterly. “Just let him flirt with you?”

“What?” you ask, just as bitter. “What are you talking about? Why’d you have to fucking shove, Dylan?”

Dylan. Theodore scoffs, getting madder by the second. He takes a step closer, towering over you. “So I’m just supposed to stand there when some prick is running up on my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend? What the hell was he on about. “Girlfriend?” you question, softer.

“Yes! You’re my girlfriend!” Theodore shouted. He just wasn’t getting it, was he?

“What?” you spluttered. “Since when?”

“What,” Theo got quieter.

“i didn’t know…” you said. “when did we start dating?…o-officially?”

“You didn’t know?” he repeated, incredulous. “I… I thought… I thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew we were dating?” You were getting louder, voice echoing off the walked.

“Yes!” Theo yelled, eyes getting sadder.

“How would I know that, Nott, you never told me!”

Theodore shakes his head, again getting gentle. “Don’t start calling me ‘Nott’ now, angel, you don’t do that.”

“Theo,” you reiterated, taking a breath. “When did we— when did we start ‘dating’.”

Theo looks like a kicked puppy when he says, “Last trip to Hogsmeade. We kissed.”

Looking at the ground, you say, “Just because we kissed doesn’t mean we’re dating.”

“To me, it did!”

“You kiss plenty of girls that you’re not dating!” you argue.

Theo scoffs, “They’re not you, now are they?”

“Teddy,” you say, tears quickly forming in your eyes. Looking up at him, he purses his lips, heart breaking in his chest. “Why couldn’t you have just asked me to be your girlfriend?”

“Love, I… I thought you knew, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you swallow, hugging yourself with your own arms, still holding in your tears. “Well, I didn’t.”

It’s silent between you both for a moment, nothing but you staring at the floor and Theo staring at you. Theo takes a small step forward, his hands touching where you hold yourself. “Would you?” he says, “Be my girlfriend, if I asked?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, looking up at him, “if you’d ask, you dick.”

Theo chuckles, dipping his head low and putting his lips against yours. His lips are so soft, despite how he tastes like liquor and cigarettes. He breaks apart from you, hand coming to caress your cheek. “Would you be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, I would.”

not proof read 🧸

i 🫶 theo nott

mrs. & mrs. hirai

hirai momo x fem!reader

synopsis: you, an assassin, find out you’ve been married to another assassin for the better half of a decade. 

tags: mr. & mrs. smith inspired ; assassin!au ; momo runs you over with a car ; it got really soft, i’m not sorry ; smut ; angst ; fluff ; violence warning ; mentions of guns ; anything else i’ve missed ; not proofread!!

when you go into the office, you’re already in an awful mood. you’re one of the best in your field with over fifty kills under your belt. you’ve never had any issues with the target until last week. that asshole—some assassin from another firm, no doubt–totally cut off your view and the target escaped. you tried to catch up, but it was too late. now, the target was in high-security lockdown and the chances of killing him are slim to none.

jihyo had told you to take a few days to cool off so the team could investigate what went wrong with your approach. you’d grabbed some coffee for yourself from downstairs, so you got one for jihyo too. she smiles gratefully as she takes a sip of the proffered drink. “you holding up?”

“yeah, still pissed though. i almost had him.” you complain as you plop down in your seat. “morning.”

“morning.” she tosses it back as she goes through her papers. “so, we’ll walk through some of the stuff the team found but i have something better. this is your next assignment.” jihyo pushes the folder in front of you. “it’s the bitch that fucked up our last assignment. that firm has been going after too many of our targets so it’s time to take out the competition.”

thank god, something productive to do and somewhere to channel your frustration with the whole mission. you open the folder and stare. and stare. you then look up at your friend and glare at her. “that’s not funny, jihyo.”

she shoots you a confused glance. “what’s not funny?”

you put your finger on the huge printout on the front page. “that’s— that’s my wife!” it could be no other but momo looking up at you, stone-cold serious in all black, looking how you’ve never seen her before.

jihyo purses her lip. “cute, y/n.” she rolls her eyes. “that’s not your wife, that’s the competition. we need to take her out. she’s not good for business.”

you stand up in your agitation, pacing the room. “jihyo, this isn’t a joke.”

she stares for a few moments until she can tell you’re serious. her eyes widen almost comically. “wait, really? that’s your wife?” her eyes dart to the picture.

“yes! that’s momo!” you’d know her face anywhere. momo isn’t an assassin—she works for some tech company where she does a load of things you barely understand. there’s no way she’s hidden this from you.

“no way.” jihyo takes a closer look. “she’s really hot.” her eyes narrow on you. “are you sure that’s your wife?”

“yes!” you hiss, your hand coming down to strike the table. “you’ve never seen my wife. why wouldn’t she be hot?” you ask, momentarily sidetracked.

“well, if she was this hot i’d have questions. you know no one is this hot without some skeletons in their closet. which apparently, might also be a hired gun.” jihyo eyes you warily. “besides, you kind of just complain about her, y/n. i kind of imagined her i don’t know... frumpy?”

guilt tugs at your gut. you do love momo, even if things have been difficult for a long time. you married her because you loved momo and she was also great in bed and a good cover. still, seven years of marriage have worn on the two of you, and the spark you both used to have seemed lost. still, that didn’t mean she had a whole secret life.

you shake the thoughts out of your head. “whatever. the point is, what am i supposed to do? i’ve been sleeping next to an assassin for the better part of a decade?”

“i mean, isn’t she sleeping next to an assassin every night?”

“yeah, but it’s not the same— jihyo.” you lower your voice. “i won’t kill her. i can’t. she’s everything to me, even if were in a rut.” momo floated the idea of marriage counseling just last week. it seemed like the two of you might have bigger problems than that now.

“the hit has been issued though.” jihyo points out the obvious. you have never refused a hit—it’s not something that goes well in this industry.

“just give me some time? please?” jihyo is your co-worker but she’s also your closest friend. one doesn’t get far in this industry without someone to count on and for you, that’s jihyo.

jihyo sighs and bites her lip. “just hang low and let’s see if i can work something up with the team. maybe there’s an error.” she allows. “you relax and try to figure out if your babe of a wife kills people for money.”

your eyes narrow. “hey, you might be a hired gun but that doesn’t mean you can talk about her like that.”

jihyo gives you a saccharine smile. “oh, that was purely because she’s hot. see you later y/n!”

you shake your head and roll your eyes. “thanks, jihyo.” you head to your office. it looks like it’s going to be another paperwork day while you stew over this.

when you go home that night you feel like you’re walking on eggshells. you remember to take off your shoes at the door and put on the slippers that momo always lays out for you. you take a deep breath, unsure how you’re going to act normal. when you go into the kitchen, there’s momo. like always, she’s cooking, putting the finishing touches on something that smells amazing. you lean against the entryway, staring at her.

she’s always been beautiful, that was never a question in your mind from the first time you saw her when you were on a mission in bogotá. today, she’s wearing a baby blue dress that hugs her figure, and a white apron that is pristinely clean. momo’s clean and loves order, is a tremendous cook, and has a dry, if subdued, sense of humor. you know her pretty well, you think. could she really be hiding something so big from you?

momo finally catches you staring and sends you a soft smile. “hey, you. dinner is almost ready.” she walks up to you and presses a perfunctory kiss to your lips like she does every day that you come home.

“hey. it smells great.” you pull momo close, and she lets out a surprised yelp, not expecting the affection.

you look down into momo’s eyes, both eyes brown. except in the picture you received at work, she was wearing contacts to make both her eyes blue. but it’s the same face. it has to be her. you pull momo in for a hug, feeling her pressed in your arms. momo hesitantly returns it, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“are you alright, baby?” she sounds genuinely concerned and you wonder if that’s real or if it’s a lie too. momo’s studying your face a little too intently.

you’ve been lying just as long and as well. “i’m fine. just stress at work. you know how it is.” you shrug, one of your hands squeezing momo’s waist.

momo laughs you off. “yeah, i know how that can be. although i think your job is a little more difficult than mine.” if you weren’t looking for it, you might miss the sardonic twitch of momo’s lips. she spins around and starts tending to the food again, this time serving plates.

“do you need help with anything?” you offer.

momo shakes her head, already moving things to the table. “no, i’m good. just sit down so we can eat.”

the table is artfully done, all of the cutlery just so. the handle of the knife is cold to your touch as you pick it up, holding it a little tighter than usual. you cut into your steak like butter. have your knives always been this sharp? you’ve never noticed before.

“we need to replace that curtain.” momo reminds you as she works on her own food, her eyes glancing up at the big bay windows in the living room. she’s sitting at the far end of the dining table, miles of distance between you both.

you couldn’t give three shits about the curtains. “sure.” you agree readily.

momo narrows her eyes, which in your experience, can only mean trouble. “i asked you to look at the options i picked three days ago.”

the only sound is cutlery touching the plates as you study her face. “i looked at them.” you lie. “i liked the second one.” that seems inoffensive enough.

“what color was it?” she challenges, eyes bright.

you stop moving your fork in your mashed potatoes. “what?”

she leans forward in her chair, propping her elbow on the table. “what color was it, y/n?”

you consider her for a moment. momo never really angers with you—but maybe she does. maybe you know nothing about her after all. “blue.” you toss out.

a look of clear irritation passes her face but then it’s gone, shuttering away. “you must mean the green. i’ll order it tonight.”

youre sawing at your steak now. “sounds lovely.”

momo turns back to her food, and you do the same. it feels like a thick fog of tension has rolled over you both—every time your eyes catch, they dart away, minding your food and your wine glasses.

a thought strikes you as you take in the careful way that momo regards you. if momo’s cover is blown, then so is yours probably. but there’s no way to be sure. at least, it’s not something you’ll discover over a dinner conversation.

you walk to the middle of the table, picking up the bottle of wine that’s there. you quietly pad over to momo. she looks at you, a tightness in her eyes that hadn’t really left since the two of you started dinner. just as you reach momo, you stop, pouring her glass full of wine.

you don’t bother to look at the glass, instead staring at momo. she gives you an even stare back, leaning back and gripping the arms of her chair.

“thank you.” she murmurs quietly as you finish.

you don’t bother responding instead letting go of the bottle suddenly. in a flash, momo’s arm springs forward, catching the bottle before it hits the ground. if you thought things were tense before, it doesn’t even begin to compare to now. you can feel the realization sink in your gut—it’s momo. momo, the hired gun that fucked up your last assignment, your next target—all of it is momo.

“lucky catch,” you say, even though the two of you both know it’s not true.

momo drops the bottle as if it burned her, red wine staining the white rug.

“clumsy me.” she gets out of her seat. “i need something in the kitchen to clean this up.” momo turns quickly, her steps measured but fast as she walks away.

you walk toward your office just as quickly. you can just tell that there’s no going back and momo is a hostile threat the same way she was on the tarmac last week. you find one of your guns hidden in the drawer, drawing it and holding it out in front of you. you’ll be damned if you let momo kill you.

as you creep along the wall slipping out of your office, you think you must be losing your mind. but there was no feigning the knowledge in momo’s eyes, the caught look when she used cat-like reflexes you didn’t even know she had.

“honey?” you call out loudly, hoping to catch momo unaware. you hear the rev of the engine and curse when you see momo’s car pelting out of your driveway.

“fuck!” you run after her, knowing that your only chance is to cut through the backyards and hope you catch up to her. there’s no way you can start up your car in time. after a split second, you’re running full tilt out of the house, gun in hand. you pray the neighbors don’t see.

you cut through one yard and catch sight of momo’s taillights. “momo!” you bellow out. “we need to talk about this!” it’s ridiculous to think you’ll take the bounty on momo’s head—the both of you just need to figure this out. you both are married, for as much as its worth now. even if you both lied to each other, you’re not going to murder her.

momo’s car keeps revving forward, and you make the decision to cut through another yard. your lungs burn as the cold air cuts through them. you grunt as you hop up, hitting your gut on the fence as you swing over. you’re actually ahead of momo’s car now which is a relief.

as you pull yourself over the fence, your grip on the gun tightens and you feel the recoil as you accidentally pull the trigger. you look up at momo’s car pulled to a full stop, a hole in the windshield. it takes you a moment to realize your bullet put it there. your heart clenches as you look at momo through the window, checking to see if she’d been hurt. she isn’t, but her eyes are tightened to near slits and her mouth drops open in outrage as she stares at the bullet hole.

your stomach drops. “fuck, fuck, fuck.” this is going to be worse than the time you forgot momo’s mom’s birthday.

you make your way in front of the car slowly, hands up in surrender. “baby, let’s talk about all this.” you give her a tentative smile. momo’s expression doesn’t change, and she revs the engine. “momo,” you say sternly. “you can’t just run me—”

getting hit by a car is worse than you anticipated, especially when momo doesn’t stop. you barely get a grip on the roof of the car, holding on as the car careens forward. “momo.” you spit out but you’re sure it gets lost in the wind. you bang your hand on the windshield, but it does no good either.

you hear the door open, and snaps shut. by the time you turn to look back, momo is rolling on the ground and you’re still hanging off of the roof of her car. “momo! this isn’t how were supposed to—”

you feel your body fly off the roof, and onto the ground with a thud that rattles your bones. you take a deep breath and feel your vision blur. you try to fight it, but you lose consciousness on the hard ground.

you knock quietly on jihyo’s door. there’s nowhere else that’s safe for you to go, especially in the middle of the night. you obviously can’t go back home.

she’s bleary-eyed when she answers but the moment jihyo takes you in, her eyes are wide and she’s on full alert. “what happened to you?”

“my wife.” you walk in, your whole body aching. you’d woken up with what you assume is a concussion and a searing headache. not to mention a ton of twigs in your hair.

“you look like a car ran you over.”

you let out a harsh laugh. “it did.”

she opens her door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “oh. yeah, sit down i’m going to get the first aid kit.”

you stare into space as you hear jihyo shuffling about. you knew it from the moment you saw the picture, but it still feels impossible. “i can’t believe she lied to me.” momo is always going on about honesty, about trying for your relationship. and yet, she was living a whole other life.

jihyo scoffs as she tends to a cut on your cheek. “really? not like you were the most honest person in that relationship.”

“it’s different!” you insist. “i married her because i loved her.” momo didn’t want to talk, and she ran you over with her car. the moment her cover was blown, it’s like she didn’t care at all.

you shake your head. your marriage hadn’t always been like this. you remember days when the two of you first got together, when the two of you lay naked in bed all day, touching each other with gentleness and passion. sure, the two of you married young and it was convenient for you—you needed a cover—but you love momo. or at least, whoever you thought momo to be.

“look, you should get some rest. you’re clearly upset.” she advises. “and probably a shower before that.”

“upset? my wife wants to kill me, jihyo.”

“you don’t know that.” she grabs a towel out of a utility closet and hands it to you.

you hold the towel lightly between your hands. “she ran me over with a car. how else do you interpret that?” you shake your head. “besides, if my firm issued her out as a target to me, i bet you anything her firm did the same.” the two of you are stuck in a loop that’ll probably only end with one of you dead or on the run.

“maybe she’s as confused as you are. vulnerable. she probably didn’t know about you either.” she reminds you as she shepherds you to the bathroom.

“well, she didn’t seem very vulnerable—” you hiss as your face stings from the ointment jihyo roughly applies. “—when she hit me with her car.”

“you seem really offended by the car thing.” you balk and jihyo holds up a hand. “shower and sleep. i’m not dealing with this nonsense at two in the morning.”

you and jihyo search for momo for two days and the two of you can’t find anything. her office has moved, and her car isn’t there when you’ve driven by the house. jihyo has been coordinating with the team at the firm, pulling on those resources too to try and find her. it takes you that amount of time to gather the courage to go back into your house. 

you have your gun out and pointed to the ground as you walk in. you feel strangely emotional as you walk in, slowly passing by all the rooms the two of you lived your lives together in. something catches your eye—the curtains are different. it’s the green that momo had mentioned. 

“why would she come back and change the curtains?” you mutter under your breath. another thought comes to you. “she’d already bought the stupid things before asking my opinion.” it’s so like momo to just take over something like that, only asking for approval after the fact. why even ask you what you thought? she practically decorated the house single-handedly anyway. you set aside your annoyance as you get to your bedroom. 

at first, nothing looks truly out of place. your eye catches something in the corner of the room. you peer inside the trash can and swallow a lump in your throat. with shaky hands you pull out what you find in it, hoping it’s not what you think. your gut drops. it’s the videotape of your honeymoon, tossed away as if it were nothing. momo had definitely been back to the house and with this, she’s made a statement. you look to momo’s side of the closet and there are clothes missing.

you open one of momo’s drawers, finding a stack of her lingerie. your eyes catch on a black one that you bought her to celebrate your fifth wedding anniversary. you remember the night well—the two of you hadn’t fought at all, you and momo spent the night together, laughing and kissing. you pull out the soft nightie, something panging in your chest.

“she’s not really your wife.” you murmur to yourself.

you have to accept the fact that you don’t know momo. you’re fighting for your life now and momo is a stranger, not the woman you’d sworn your life to. if this upheaval has taught you something, it’s that you can’t trust anything that you thought about your marriage. still, you’re weak and you miss momo. you’ve been missing momo for a long time now. you pull the soft fabric to your face, inhaling. it smells just like her. you shove it back in the drawer and close it.

you look at the nightstand on the side of the bed and notice momo’s phone is there. she’d probably picked up a new one. you pick it up and look through the recent calls, calling the last number. you hold your breath.

“golden real estate.” says a chipper voice on the line.

“hi, there i’m calling from hysteria industries.” you give the name of momo’s supposed employer.

“oh, of course! how are you liking the new space?” the voice fills with recognition.

you smile. you have a lead. “it’s working out just fine.” you lay back on your bed. “i have some furniture i need to ship, can you help me out with that?” you would find momo one way or another.

it only takes you another day to be ready to confront momo. you feel the elevator in the new golden real estate building stand still suddenly and you know you’ve been found by momo. you expected as much when you got in the elevator.

a deep voice comes through the speaker on the elevator. “it seems like your elevator has stopped functioning, ma’am. do you want me to send an engineer to see what the problem is?”

the voice isn’t just deep, its distorted. you grin. “no, i’m comfortable right here.” you offer flippantly.

there’s a pause. “is that sarcasm?”

you find the security camera in the corner and stare right at it. “i know it’s you, momo.”

“are you sure you’re comfortable, y/n?” the voice that comes through is husky and teasing—you could imagine that the two of you are in your room alone, instead of trapped in an elevator at momo’s mercy. you’d give anything to go back to a time like that.

“why don’t you come out here and face me? preferably without a car windshield between us.”

“no time for jokes, dear.” you lean your hands on the elevator walls, listening to momo’s voice. “this is your first and last warning, y/n. get out of town.”

you shake your head slowly. “you know i’m not going anywhere.”

“so, you say. but you’re dangling in a steel box with sixty stories of air beneath you.”

your eyebrows climb up your face. “oh, is this a trap then?”

“you think i’d be dumb enough to leave my phone for you to find with a sensitive number on it? i thought you were more than just a pretty face, baby.”

“well, at least you still think it’s pretty.” you quip. as if you didn’t suspect this was a trap from the start. “So what? you have a charge on the counterweight cable and two more on the brakes?” you list off all of the explosives you disabled before you got into the elevator. the silence runs long, and you know momo didn’t expect that of you. “whatever your plain is, it won’t work because you always underestimate me.”

“oh, i do?” momo sounds amused.

“you have no idea what i’m capable of.” you know that’s true, even if you don’t think you could stomach seriously hurting momo. momo always took over everything because she doesn’t think you’re able to do things.

“likewise, baby. did you check the base of the principal elevator cable?” you freeze—you hadn’t seen that. well, fuck. there’s a sigh that blows out of the speaker. “first and last warning, y/n.” she repeats again, this time more sternly. “promise to leave town, or i’ll blow it.”

you lift your hands up into the air. “alright, i give up. blow up the elevator.” despite all the evidence to the contrary, you refuse to believe momo will actually kill you. maybe you’re a fool but you refuse to believe there isn’t some truth to you both being together.

“excuse me?” momo’s voice is strained.

“do it. blow it up.”

“five... four...” her voice trails off. “i’ll do it.” it’s that stubborn tone she gets when the two of you are fighting about which china set to put out for a dinner party. you lean your head against the elevator wall for a moment, hiding your face. god, you miss her.

you look back into the camera and shoot it a smile, imagining momo on the other end. you wish you could see her. “come on now, momo. all talk?”

“any last words?” momo’s voice is smug over the telecom again.

“the new curtains are hideous.” you can’t help but get a dig in.

“goodbye, y/n.” there’s an echo of her laugh in the curl of her words. the elevator that’s rigged—the elevator that momo thinks you’re in—goes into a freefall.

you take a deep breath as you hear the thunderous noise of the elevator you’d been pretending to be in crash into the first floor. you’re about to unplug the cable you’d used to confuse the signals of the elevators, a deep disappointment in your bones. momo really doesn’t care.

just before the connection dies, you hear momo panicked voice come through the line “what the hell was that? i didn’t—”

you pull out the cable and stare at it, almost in wonder. it sounded like real fear, fear for you. maybe not everything is lost after all.

you stay low for a few days but then it’s christmas eve. part of you realizes that momo’s panic could have been for a number of reasons—it didn’t mean she wouldn’t have killed you. but the idea of her being alone on the holiday makes your heart clench. besides, you’re not planning on backing down and being on the run your whole life. when you found out momo made reservations at a familiar restaurant for the holiday, you buy a tailored suit and plans to surprise her there.

you’re glad you catch sight of momo before she sees you because it takes a moment for you to collect yourself. she’s in a dark slinky number with a neckline that shows off the slope of her collarbones. she’s staring vacantly ahead, a single shimmering tear on her cheek. almost angrily, she brushes it off and tilts back her champagne flute, demolishing the drink in one swig.

momo has her hand on the bottle when you come up right beside her. “you wouldn’t be getting all mushy because you killed me, right?”

for a moment, you’re worried momo is going to bash your head in with the champagne bottle from the way her hand tightens on it. you can see the genuine surprise as her eyes rake over you.

“how...?” her voice is barely a whisper, more of a sigh as she drinks you in.

you stuff your hands in your suit pockets, shrugging. “are you impressed?”

“amazed.” it doesn’t even sound sarcastic, and it makes your traitorous heart beat faster.

“amazed i’m still alive?” you make your way to the chair across from momo, sitting down.

she seems to get over her initial shock, jutting her chin up. “amazed you managed to tie your tie on your own.”

you bite your lip to keep in your smile. it was one of your favorite things when the two of you got married. momo would fuss over your tie, making sure it was perfect before pulling you close and giving you a sweet kiss. you can’t remember when she stopped doing that. “thanks, i’m full of surprises.”

momos still eyeing you with something akin to hunger now. “that suit is certainly one of them.”

“thanks.” you think of saying something about how fantastic momo looks but think better of it.

you shift the gun you brought out of your suit jacket and onto your lap. you can tell from the way momo shifts her weight she has a weapon of choice in her lap as well.

“hands on the table?” momo suggests lightly. you nod, doing as momo asks, watching for her hands to do the same. “how did you know where—”

“i proposed here on christmas eve seven years ago. i had a hunch you might be feeling sentimental.” it was less of a hunch than a hope. your heart jumped to your throat when you realized momo made a reservation here, on this night of all nights. you had to come.

momo frowns, eyes guarded. “i came for the clams.” she huffs, looking away.

your eyes trail over her again. she looks so good; it feels impossible for one woman to be this beautiful. “is this a new dress?”

momo rolls her eyes in irritation at the small talk. “what do you want, y/n?” she cuts to the chase, one of the hands bunching on the white tablecloth.

you lean forward, careful to keep your hands visible. “we need to talk.” it’s been all you’ve wanted since this whole mess started.

“about what?”

your eyebrows raise of their own accord. “us.”

she scoffs. “there is no us.”

you feel anger at the denial. “so, there’s nothing between us then?” how dare she just give up? if everything is up in smoke now, it only means there used to be a fire. you and momo burned brightly, and you need to know it was real, if only for your sanity.

she stares coldly at you. “only a table.”

you stand up slowly, pocketing your gun. you walk around the edge of the table and hold your hand out for momo. she stares at it uncomprehendingly until you nod to the dance floor.

“really?” you nod and pull her onto the dance floor. momo rolls her eyes. “you don’t dance.” she informs you dryly.

you lift your arms into a perfect frame and turn your face away, as the tango demands. you smirk when you hear momo’s sharp intake of breath. “all part of the cover.” you say loftily.

momo doesn’t miss a step either, your bodies moving together in a way that’s different than you’re used to. you’ll never get to tell momo now, but you have always wanted to dance with her.

“were the clothes on the bathroom floor every morning part of the cover too?” she grouses as you turn her. you take a step too far, pressing momo onto the wall, not hard enough to injure her but enough for her to realize you’re not fucking around.

you keep moving, not letting momo catch her breath as you reach one hand under her dress, grabbing the outside of her thigh. you keep reaching up until you find what you’re looking for, ignoring all of the soft skin there in favor of the dagger momo is hiding. you throw it sharply, and it pierces the far wall with a dull thud.

momo reaches behind you, grabbing your ass and then sliding her hands up to your waistband, pulling out the gun there, dropping it, and kicking it out of reach. the two of you don’t stop dancing and you ignore the way that momo’s hips move although it’s all you want to think about.

“if i knew you could dance like this, maybe i wouldn’t have thought you were so boring.” its sharp and angry, words meant to cut you.

you pull her into a dip, keeping the two of you there for a moment. “who cares if i was boring? i was just a cover to you.” you accuse openly.

she arches her brow, her foot grazing your calf, almost making you lose your balance. “who said you were just a cover?”

“wasnt i?” you demand to know. how much of your marriage was even real?

momo falters for a moment before she looks determined, a hired gun once again. “excuse me.” she says coldly heading up the stairs.

“there are no exits here.” you point out, although you’re not sure why this would be a perfect opportunity to catch her and end this once and for all.

“i’ll make one.” she spits out before she keeps walking, sliding between people until she’s out of your reach.

you stare after momo, digging your heels in to keep from chasing. she’s a liar. you just need to wait her out. you watch as a few people run and then there’s an explosion upstairs. fuck. you watch as streams of people run out of the restaurant, making it possible for momo to hide in plain sight. you use your height to look over most of the heads in the crowd, looking for familiar brown hair. you think you see her and walk quickly, making it out of the restaurant.

you’re looking around when you bump into an old man. “ma’am, you’re ticking.”

you freeze. amongst the commotion, you hadn’t heard the ticking coming from your suit jacket. you quickly strip it off, throwing it into a mailbox a few feet away. “get back!” you tell, waving your hand and running away from the bomb. it’s a small explosion but if it had been on your person, it definitely wouldn’t have down well. you shake your head. “momo.” you curse. you’d lost sight of her.

you quickly find her car and press your foot on the gas pedal, getting onto the highway as fast as you can. for the first time since this whole mess started, you call momo. 

“you tried to kill me.” you accuse, your hand tight on the steering wheel.

momo laughs. “it was a little bomb, y/n. lighten up.” she sighs. “why did you call me?”

“why did you answer?” all of the noise on momo’s side of the line makes you think you’re on the highway too. it gives you a direction, although you have no evidence of where momo is actually going. “never mind that. i want you to tell me something different. tell me, what was the first thing you thought when you met me.” the silence lingers, only the sound of traffic assuring you that momo hasn’t hung up. you have a knot in your throat. “because i thought... the first time i saw you momo, i thought you were the most beautiful woman id ever seen in the day of my life.” you can almost imagine her, dressed to the nines in that tiny bar. her taunting smirk, first at the bar and then looking up at you from the hotel sheets.

“why are you asking me that? why are you telling me this?”

“i guess when you get to the end of something you think of the beginning.” you can see the writing on the wall. this is going to end poorly no matter what and momo’s lost to you. “i just thought you should know the truth.” you want momo to have at least that silver of it. the suggestion that your relationship was real. at least, for you it was. “so. are you going to tell me?”

“i thought you were the most beautiful cover id ever seen.”

your blood freezes in your veins. “so, it was all business from the beginning.”

“mhm. all business. just cold, hard... math.” her voice cracks and all the background noise cuts off but when you look down the call is still going. momo muted herself.

“that’s what i needed to know.” you hang up. you grab the next exit, and you can see momo’s car ahead of you. you speed up, riding her bumper. you can’t believe your wild guess is right and momo went to your house. you smash your car into momo’s as the both of you hit the driveaway.

you’re all instinct as you pull out of the car running as fast as you can and crawling over the hedge. you find your toolshed, where you keep your weapons cache, and open the door. you’re sure momo is looking for wherever she has her stash. you quickly find a silencer, putting it on the gun you had at the restaurant. you stuff your waistband with another two guns and your pockets with ammunition. you also quickly put in ear plugs. 

you listen and you can’t hear a damn thing outside. you quickly but quietly make your way into the house. the front door is wide open, so you use the back. chances are momo is waiting for you to walk in blind and she’s set up a trap for you there. you walk through the hallway, not finding momo. you stop when you get to the walkway that leads to the open area of the living room.

you know you can’t look around that corner without being a wide-open target. you look around and grin when you find something of use. you pick up a framed picture of you and momo to try and see around the corner, using the reflective surface like a mirror. you catch a glimpse of momo, and you pull it back. it looks like momo’s set up on the stairwell with some kind of shotgun. 

you’re unsure if momo saw the movement of the frame, but you don’t have to wonder for long. multiple bullets spray through the wall, confirming what you already knew. you throw yourself on the ground, cupping your ears against the loud sound of the shots.

“fuck.” you mutter under your breath, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears, even with the ear protection. you crawl as silently as you can down the hallway.

“are you still alive, baby?” you hear momo’s voice ring out along with the heavy clunk of the magazine.

you’re tempted to respond but then another thought occurs to you. you make a half-choking sound and imitate a dull thump on the ground. your house is filled with silence.

“y/n?” this time sounds more concerned, and you can hear her get closer.

you start shooting immediately through one of the holes made by the shotgun, watching as momo ducks and rolls out of the way running into the living room. you duck yourself as the bullets spray through the wall she is using for cover.

you quickly run out of your first round of bullets, and you hear a curse from the kitchen, and you figure momo did too. you take a chance and run into the kitchen at full tilt, taking momo by surprise as you tackle her. momo decks you across the face and pushes you against the wall, making you grunt in pain. you push back, using your height advantage to get out of the hold momo has you in. 

momo is faster than you and manages to dart out of the kitchen. you can hear her reloading and you quickly do the same, heart beating loudly in your chest. you hide in the next room over standing stalk still to not give away your position. you slow your breathing, trying to think of where momo might have gone. it’ll likely be the bathroom or back out to the living room. the bathroom is too closed off, but the living room is too open. neither is ideal in this situation. 

you turn and almost knock down a vase. you manage to grab it, biting your lip and hoping that jostling that stupid thing wouldn’t cost you your life. you recognize it as one that momo bought at a garage sale a few years back. the bullets start coming from the living room and you have to run again. you trip and end up on your back, which is fine for the moment because momo runs out of bullets again. you get up and think to run past momo in the living room to get back to the other hallway. 

you only realize your mistake when you’ve already entered the living room—momo wasn’t reloading at all, she’d just pulled out her handgun. she has it trained on you, taking a step closer until you both are face to face, guns trained on each other. 

you can see the absolute rage in momo’s eyes as she holds the gun up to your chest and suddenly all the fight gives out in you. when you think of pulling the trigger this close, you feel nauseous. the two of you have been fighting but you know you can’t kill momo. you’ve always known that.

you lower your gun slowly to momo’s disbelief. “i give up.” you say simply.

momo lets out a snarl, tamping her foot down. “no! pick it back up, y/n.” she demands, her own hands trembling on the gun. “pick it up.” she nudges the barrel of your gun with her own.

you smile sadly at her. you grab the barrel of momo’s gun and press it tightly over your chest. the metal feels cold against you, but it doesn’t matter. it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a kiss from momo ever again. “you want it? it’s yours.” your heart has always been momo’s. if she wants to blow through it with a bullet, that’s her right.

momo’s face crumples, tears shining in her eyes in what can only be an expression of heartbreak. it hurts more than any of the hits she’s landed since the two of you started fighting. momo tosses her gun, and it clatters on the ground. suddenly, momo is in your arms and you’re on the receiving end of a bruising kiss.

the force of it makes you fall backward but by no means does it mean you both stop. momo kisses you with everything she has, and you can’t help but respond, offering yourself up in return. you’re not sure if momo loves you or wants to kill you, but you’d happily take this over what the two of you had been doing.

you let your hands roam momo, pulling her close and listening to the groan she releases, and you manage to get a hand inside her dress. “fuck, momo.” you curse, your lips looking for purchase on her neck.

momo tears through your shirt. you’re sure the buttons make some type of noise as they land around the two of you, but you can’t hear past the ringing in your ears. you pull out the earplugs, but it isn’t much better. you can’t find any part of you that cares. you just want to be with momo. it won’t be the first time you make love to her with partial hearing, and it probably won’t be the last.

you turn so that you’re on top, hiking momo’s thigh and hitching it to your hip. “baby, please.” you’re sure you’re almost yelling it, but momo probably can’t hear well either. you’re not sure what you’re begging for, whether for momo to stop or to keeping. to love you or to just put you out of your misery.

momo reaches out, her hands gentle for once, as she tilts your face. your dark hair curtains both of you, like the two of you are closed off from the world. “y/n, i love you.” you have to read momo’s lips to make sure you’ve heard it right but it’s worth everything. “i always have.”

you can feel tears well up in your eyes. “i love you too. more than anything.” you lean down and kiss her again.

you feel momo widen her legs, making room for your hand to creep higher on her thigh. you pull off momo’s dress and when you’re inside of her, when the two of you both groan into each other’s skin and are overcome with the emotions and physical sensations, it’s like the night the two of you met at the bogotá all over again. 

it takes hours for you to sleepily open your eyes after momo runs you ragged. your house is in ruin around you both but with momo lounging on your chest, all you feel is calm. you realize momo is also awake when she turns her head, catching your gaze.

“i love you.”

momo’s eyes soften further, and she leans up, placing a soft kiss on your lips. “me too, baby. i love you so much.”

“tell me something about you. something real.” you ask quietly, your fingertips running up and down momo’s arm.

“i suck at cooking.” she says bluntly.

you can’t help but gasp, looking down at momo. “but all the dinners? you cook fantastic.” ever since the two of you were married, momo was always in charge of your kitchen.

she shakes her head, nuzzling further into your chest. “the firm has them brought every day. it was part of my cover.”

you look at her wide-eyed. “my favorite casserole?” you whine in disbelief.

momo laughs, tucking herself even closer to your side, like she can sink into your skin. “oh yeah, baby. that’s all gone now.” a quiet settles around you both as the two of you think of the implications of that statement. if you both don’t kill each other the both of you certainly don't have a way to complete either of your hit contracts. you knew you’d never complete yours, but you’d never thought this far ahead.

“fuck, mo. what are we going to do?” the two of you haven’t talked anything out and you have no clue what options you both even have. “we have to get their traces off of us.”

“well, how do we do that when they want us both gone if we don’t kill each other?”

you place a soft kiss on the top of momo’s head. “i’m not sure, but we can figure it out together.” you can feel momo tensing, worrying about the very real danger the two of you are in. “hey.” you tilt momo’s face to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “i love you.” you say seriously. you’re never going to stop saying it ever again.

momo kisses you fully, leaning over you. “i love you too. and i’m sorry.” her hand gestures to the house that is falling apart. almost as if on cue, one of the picture frames falls off the wall.

you shake your head. “we have insurance.” you joke, your arm snaking around momo’s waist.

momo doesn’t laugh. “no, y/n. we just tried to kill each other. i’m sorry.” she presses a kiss to your cheek.

“we’ve been through worse i’m sure.” you kiss her fully.

she raises an eyebrow. “worse than this?”

“remember that time i forgot our anniversary?”

“oh yeah, that was bad.” she leans forward and places a tender kiss on your cheek. “fuck you, it was the fifth one too.”

“i was concussed! i didn’t know what day it was! i’d spent three days in four different time zones too.” momo had let you have it for weeks and you had stayed silent unable to disclose any of the reasons why you forgot.

“no excuse. i still remembered our third anniversary after getting shot in the foot.”

you pull back to see if momo is being serious. “how did i miss that?”

“it glanced off my boot mostly.” she gives you an impish grin.

you glare. “drama queen.” the two of you settle back into each other’s arms. your ass is numb from laying on the living room rug but you’re not going to be the one to suggest you both to move. you probably have rug burn but it feels like a warm moment between you both and you don’t want it to end.

“i can’t believe you can dance.” momo sighs wistfully.

you feel a pang of regret for all the dances that could have been if the two of you had been honest. “sometimes when i’d see you dancing— i’d do anything to dance with you.”

“you can dance with me now.” you soothe, ignoring your predicament entirely. 

“i’ll dance with you whenever you want, baby.” you hum to yourself. “oh! i was married once before.” you add to the pile of things you’d never disclosed before.

“excuse me?” momo turns and glares at you.

you shrug. “it was a vegas thing, wasn’t important.” you’d been young and the two of you had gotten a quick divorce—you honestly forgot at times you were married to anyone before momo.

“what’s her name and social security number?” momo asks, eyes cold and calculating.

you shake your head and laugh. “absolutely not, you aren’t killing her.”

momo buries her head in your shoulder. “i could.” she grumbles.

“you probably could but that isn’t very nice.” you try to keep the laugh out of your voice but it’s hard. the jealousy is silly and unnecessary, but it warms you anyway.

“i don’t have parents,” momo reveals.

“what? who showed up to our wedding then?”

“paid actors.”

it’s silly but your mind jumps to something else. “so, i never forgot your momo’s birthday.” you point out.

“it was the principle of the matter, y/n.” momo sounds a little huffy and you run your fingers down her back to soothe her.

“yeah, that’s true.” you concede. as many lies as there are piled between you both, you know that there were other things wrong with your marriage too. it feels far away now, though. you’ve never felt closer to momo. “can i ask you something?”

“of course, anything.”

“why did you throw out the honeymoon video?” it’s barely a whisper because you’re afraid to ask it.

momo winces. “you noticed that?” you nod, biting your lip to keep yourself from saying more. “i… when i realized that you’d had this other life, i felt so betrayed. i didn’t think you loved me. i felt used.” momo starts haltingly. “the girls — nayeon and mina, i work with them — they just started watching it when i came to pick up my stuff. we looked so happy in it. and you looked at me like—” her voice is filled with tears, “—like you loved me.”

“i do love you. then and now.” you remind gently, brushing a stray tear off of momo’s cheek.

“it didn’t feel that way then. i couldn’t bear to see it, so i tossed it. tossed out the lie.” she explains.

you nod. you understand it well—you’d had the same doubts and fears that momo did. “know this. now and forever, it’s you and me, okay? you’re my wife.” you cup her jaw and bring your lips together.

momo sighs when the two of you part. “okay,” she agrees.

you don’t want to leave but the two of you are probably in danger of getting shot naked if you both push this any longer. “from your firm, is there anyone you’d trust with your life?”

“sana,” momo says without hesitation. “she’s like a sister to me.”

“okay. you get sana, i’m going to get jihyo — she’s the person i trust — and we are going to figure out how to get these contracts off our backs.” you sigh. “and then we can kill our enemies and we’re safe, we can go to marriage counseling.”

momo lets out a soft gasp. “you didn’t want to go before.”

“i was being an idiot before.” there’s nothing worse than losing momo. be it a hitman contract or insidious complacency, you’re not letting anything tear the two of you apart.

“is it bad if i think it’s really sexy when you shoot things?”

you laugh and shake your head. “no, because i think the same.” you place a kiss on momo’s shoulder. “let’s see if we have any clothes without bullet and let’s get our life back.”

momo smiles at you so tenderly, you think you would be okay with dying right then and there.