#Satin weave napkins

[alannairis]

Add a Touch of Elegance to Your Wedding Banquet with Metro Band Napkins

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[mint-yooxgi]

Rover - Spy!Jongin X Reader X Yandere!Spy!Kai

Twin!AU, Spy!AU & Yandere!AU - Based off of Kai's Mini Album Rover

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Tragedy, Smut

Pairing: Jongin X Reader X Kai

Words: 25,600

Warnings: Violence: physical and gun related, blood and injuries, unhealthy relationships, allusions to cheating (but not actually in that particular context), major deaths, assault and mentions of sexual trafficking. Smut: Dub-Con (there is explicit consent, but it's immediately negated due to the fact that OC is misled to believe she is consenting to her husband when it is not actually him; unknowing infidelity), oral (fem. rec), praise, body worship, dirty talk, very sensual and intimate. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: *Ding ding ding* @ninibears-erigom come get your dinner!! Hehehe, anyways, this is heavily inspired by Kai's third mini album and the subsequent MVs/Films for it. I'm a little hesitant posting it cause of the dub-con aspect, but this is a much darker fic than I usual write and I really like how it turned out. Also, please don't come in my inbox saying OC is stupid for not realizing things, I don't wanna hear it lmaoo anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

“What’s your position from the target?” A deep voice sounds in your ear, but you appear to pay him no mind.

“Twenty metres.” Comes your low reply, taking a sip from the crystalline glass held in your hand.

“Whenever you’re ready: approach.” Another male responds, and you can feel his eyes locked onto your figure from the side of the room.

Carefully, you place the champagne flute in your hand onto a side table, weaving your way through the crowd. People hardly notice you, too wrapped up in their own worlds to see nothing but a fleeting shadow dancing in the corner of their vision.

You smirk.

A moment later, and you feel someone bump into your front, spilling wine all over your satin gown.

“Pardon me,” a rough voice greets your ears as you wear an expression of shock.

“It’s all my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you smile sheepishly, curling in on yourself as hushed whispers and pointed glances are sent your way.

“Be more careful next time, lass,” he responds with a firm nod of his head before turning away.

A waiter offers you a napkin to begin cleaning yourself off with, of which you accept graciously as you begin to walk away.

Little does anyone notice the smirks that tug subtly on either one of your faces.

A shrill scream reaches your ears as a dull thud echoes around the room. The music from the string quartet stops abruptly, people gathering in a circle around a now convulsing body. Not just any body, but the body of the man you had just ‘accidentally’ bumped into.

Not even a second later, the body stills, laying dead upon the floor.

Turning down one of the side hallways of the banquet hall, you appear to slip into the bathroom to freshen up. Only, you mange to slip out of the side door instead.

The cool night air is crisp against your skin, hands immediately coming up to grasp your arms for warmth. That cloth is still held in your hand, but you’ve long since given up attempting to save your dress. There’s no use, anyways. You��ve done what you’ve came here to do, so now all that’s left is to rendezvous at the meeting point, and call it a night.

“Did you get the rest of the information we needed?” That same deep voice from earlier echoes through your little earpiece, but you know he’s not talking to you for the moment.

“Signed, sealed, and delivered.” The other answers just as you hear the same door you exited out of creak open behind you.

Sparing a glance over your shoulder, you see that same waiter step out of the building. A smirk pulls at his lips as he sees you, loosening the first few buttons on his shirt as he approaches.

“God, I don’t know how these servers wear these things all night,” he grumbles, fingering the tie looser to ease it from his neck.

You grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he steps in front of you. “Well, I think you look very handsome.”

“At your service, My Lady,” he grins right back, a teasing glint shining within his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist.

A small silence settles over the both of you as you begin to lean in to one another. You stare deeply into his soft brown eyes, lips quirking as he squeezes your waist gently in his hold.

“If you two are done flirting with each other, we have a job to finish.” A sharp voice interrupts the moment you had been having with your husband.

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes, turning to face the second male who now stands at the end of the alleyway. A male who is identical in every way to the one who still stands behind you, save for a small mole on the back of his neck, directly beneath his hairline. “We’re coming."

“Just because you don’t have a wife, Kai, doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to appreciate mine.” Again, his arms slide around your waist, resting his chin over your one shoulder.

Kai’s jaw tenses, lips pursing as his frown deepens.

“Jongin, don’t boast.” You poke said male’s arm lightly while letting out a soft giggle. “It’s unbecoming of you.”

“It’s never stopped him before,” Kai mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, without waiting for either one of you to respond, he continues, “Come on, let’s get going.”

Without another word, the three of you are heading down the alleyway and towards a sleek black car. 

The all leather interior is cool against your skin as you slide into the backseat, a chill running down your spine.

Kai’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror, a silent puff of air escaping him as your husband doesn’t even seem to notice.

“There’s a blanket under the passenger seat if you’re cold.” He states, somewhat gruffly as the engine purrs to life.

The lights illuminate the path before you, and without waiting another second, Kai speeds out of the alleyway, racing off into the night.

“Stop taking better care of my wife than me.” Jongin grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest somewhat childishly. “Get your own."

“Maybe if you payed better attention to her, I wouldn’t fucking have to.” Kai remarks, weaving in and out through other cars as he heads for the agency you all work for across the city.

“Boys,” you tut, shaking your head in amusement. A moment later, and that blanket is wrapped around your figure. It’s surprisingly warm. “We’ve just got to find your  older brother a partner of his own to worry about, and then he won’t have to worry about me.”

Briefly, his eyes glance at you again within the rearview mirror.

Impossible. He’ll always worry about you, since his brother never seems to want to.

“What type of person are you in to, Kai?” You lean forward, resting your arm on the back of Jongin’s seat as you look towards the elder of the two.

“You ask me this every time.” He grumbles, hands tightening on the steering wheel.

“And you never have an answer for me.” You reply with an amused hum, somewhat knowingly. “Do you fancy men, women, both, or any type of person there is?”

Jongin quirks a brow, shaking his head while muttering about your incessant need to find his brother a life partner.

“Why is it you really want to know?” Kai shoots a look towards you out of the corner of his eyes, lips quirking as he pulls off of the highway. “Worried you might make yourself jealous?”

A loud, boisterous laugh falling from your painted lips greets his ears. You even go so far as to pat his shoulder a few times in jest, wiping at your eyes with your free hand as if you had tears gathering at the corners.

“Now, why would knowing you fancy someone make me jealous?” You remove your hand. “You know I’m married, right?”

That damn ring of yours glinting beneath the artificial lights illuminating the street he drives down mocks him, the matching one sitting proudly on Jongin’s own hand. A ring which should have been on his finger instead.

Kai grits his teeth. “How could I ever forget?”

“No, I want to know your type so I can set you up with someone,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Perhaps Shinobu from logistics, or my friend Sunmin.”

He blinks, staring blankly ahead as he turns into the entrance to the underground parking lot for your agency. “I’m perfectly happy on my own.”

“Your comments about our marriage suggest otherwise,” Jongin grumbles just as Kai pulls into a spot.

Your brow quirks, but you say nothing as you exit the vehicle.

As soon as your foot touches the concrete flooring, the engine is cut, the two males stepping out to join you immediately after. Jongin instantly has his arm around your waist, helping to guide you inside of the building.

The whole time you walk inside and to the elevator, you can feel Kai’s eyes on you. However, little do you realize the way his shoulder still tingles from your touch mere minutes before.

The ride up to the main facility is silent, both males flanking you on either side. The only difference is, Jongin has his hand placed lowly on your back, even with that blanket still resting over your shoulders. It’s faint, but the material smells of jasmine and a certain type of musk you can’t quite put your finger on. All that you do know, is it smells incredible, and you find yourself leaning in to catch that scent more often that not. 

A fact of which Kai picks up on.

A subtle smirk pulls at his lips as he sees you wrap that blanket tighter around yourself as the elevator doors slide open with a slight ding. The fact that you lean into it, wanting to smell more of him mixed with you sets his heart racing in his chest.

Now, if only he could have you smelling like that naturally.

“I’m going to go change, and then I’ll meet you boys in the boss’ office.” You say, voice managing to pull both of them out of their thoughts for the moment.

A nod is all you receive from Jongin as you turn to place a gentle kiss onto his cheek. Pulling away, you smile softly at Kai before heading down a separate hallway and towards your own private office at the one end of the facility.

As soon as you disappear from sight, Kai is shooting a pointed look at his younger brother.

“You didn’t even ask if she was okay.” His tone is pointed, disproval heavy in his gaze.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap.” Jongin rolls his eyes, already heading down the opposite hallway and towards their boss’ office. “You didn’t either.”

“At least I noticed she was cold.” Kai huffs, eyes narrowing at the back of his brother’s head as he follows after Jongin.

“If she was cold she would have said something.” Jongin replies nonchalantly as he tucks his hands into his pockets. Taking another step, he rounds on his brother. “Stop meddling in our affairs. What my wife and I do is none of your concern.”

“It is when you don’t fucking treat her properly.” Kai seethes, pushing Jongin harshly against the wall using his forearm. “Did you even notice that bastard didn’t even fucking apologize for spilling his drink all over her? Or were you just too busy eye-fucking his wife.”

“We got the job done, didn’t we?” Jongin spits, shoving his brother off of him.

“You’re fucking lucky we know what we’re dong.” Kai snaps, brushing past his twin with a harsh knock into his shoulder. “Why did you even bother to join this agency if all you ever do is complain about the jobs we get told to do, and the covers you get assigned?”

Of course, Kai knows exactly why Jongin does everything he does. It’s to prove that he always gets what he wants. At least, everything that Kai has ever desired. It’s not like Jongin actually likes the same things as his elder twin, he just wants to prove that he can take whatever it is that Kai wants for himself. Yet, whenever Kai points it out, no one believes him. Instead, they fall for Jongin’s little innocent act. Every. Single. Time.

To say Kai is frustrated would be an understatement. If he needed a new phone, Jongin’s always had to come first. If he wanted to follow a specific career path, Jongin did everything in his power to prove how much smarter, how much better he is at it than him.

The final straw had been you.

Kai had been smitten ever since he first laid his eyes on you in high school. Only, Jongin took notice of the fact of yet another person his twin had desired and made it his mission to get you first. Kai had lost many friends and lovers throughout the years because of this, but he thought you would be different. You had never played into Jongin’s tricks, so Kai couldn’t help but hope that finally, he could claim someone as his own. Someone who he had always desired above everyone else. Someone whom he loves.

That’s when the two of you announced you were getting married. With the same damn set of rings Kai had wanted to use to propose to you someday, too.

Kai had seen red that day, taking the most intensive and erotic bender of his entire life. It took him days to recover, and when he did, he was never the same man.

None of these other women were you. No one else mattered to him but you.

Yet, he couldn’t hurt you. No, never you. He couldn’t ruin your own happiness for his own selfish gains. Not like his brother. So, no matter how badly it pained him to watch you walk down that aisle in a dress he only ever dreamed you’d be wearing for him, he grinned and bared it. All because he loves you. More than anything.

The worst part? You don’t even realize how badly Jongin treats you. At least, in Kai’s opinion.

Jongin doesn’t bring you your favourite flowers on your birthday like he does. Jongin doesn’t remember your favourite take-out order when you’re feeling down. Hell, Jongin can’t even offer you the love that you have always deserved like Kai can.

If only you could see that, too.

Sitting within the boss’ office with his brother is tense, the elder woman leaning against her desk with her arms crossed over her chest. Her stern gaze looks over the both of them sharply, the usb they were required to use to hack the system of the banquet held firmly in her one hand.

“Do one of you want to tell me how this got destroyed?” Her tone is pointed, and they both know she won’t accept a bullshit answer.

A moment of silence before Jongin is letting out a loud sigh. “I told him to be more careful, but this idiot managed to crush it while subduing the waiter he was supposed to be impersonating.”

Kai’s nostril’s flare.

“You were the one that insisted that he take out the waiter instead so he could ‘keep an eye on his wife’. If I remember correctly.” He seethes, nothing but malice in his gaze as he glares at his brother.

“Jongin trusts his wife with his own life, why would he need to babysit one of our top two agents?” Their boss, Quincy, replies bluntly.

“Oh, is that what he told you?” Kai scoffs, sitting back in his seat as he rolls his eyes.

“I’m getting real sick and fucking tired of your attitude, Kai.” Her gaze sharpens, turning the full intensity of her heated glare onto him. “You may be the other half of our top two agents, but every day you push your luck.”

“If it weren’t for Jongin’s fuck up tonight, I wouldn’t have had to hack into the security mainframe manually, and we could have been out of there sooner.” Kai shifts in his seat once more, gripping the arms of his chair tightly beneath his fingers.

“Your purpose in these dual missions is to give each other an alibi should people start getting suspicious.” Quincy looks between the both of them, her lips pursed in a tight line. “We can’t keep your covers hidden if the both of you don’t cooperate. You’re brothers for crying out loud. Act like it.”

“I don’t know what you know about brotherly love, boss,” Jongin chuckles, “but we’ve never had it.”

“Then you better learn some before one of you ends up dead.” She huffs. “I know someone who would be devastated if they were to learn of at least one of your deaths.”

The pointed look she sends Jongin has a white hot fury flooding Kai’s veins at how unbothered his twin looks by this statement. Not only that, but a tightness begins welling inside his chest, heart aching at the truth behind those words.

He swallows thickly.

Just then, a knock sounds on the door. A second later, and you pop your head in, entering the room in a fresh pair of pants and a new shirt.

“Good. You’re here.” Quincy nods, pushing herself off of her desk and walking behind it so that she can take a seat. “Now, the three of you,” she looks between you all, “give me the rundown of your latest assignment.”

Stepping over beside Jongin, you perch yourself on the one arm of his chair as you meet Quincy’s gaze across from you.

“Target: William Darcey, eliminated.” You begin, pulling out a small pin no bigger than the size of a pill capsule. Leaning forward, you place the empty container on the edge of her desk. “The new toxin Jeremy developed works like a charm. Dropped dead within a minute of being administered, and looked like a seizure to boot.”

“Excellent.” She nods her approval. “As always, it’s what I expect from you, and you always deliver.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” You nod back, keeping your head tilted forward in gratitude for a moment longer.

“I expect none of you were discovered.” Briefly, she looks over all three of you.

“If we were, we are unaware of it.” Jongin answers her, his hand moving to settle on your lower back.

The way you lean into his touch has Kai tensing in his seat beside you.

“My moles haven’t heard anything. Darcey was pronounced dead at the banquet, by natural causes.” Quincy shuffles some papers on her desk. “The information Kai managed to hack gives us our final target. The man pulling the strings behind this entire operation we’re attempting to shut down. Already, our Zero Division has moved to rescue those who have been trafficked by Don Vanderleen. The rescue is underway as we speak.”

“Are operations running as usual?” You inquire, and you notice her eyes flash. You shrink in your spot, noticing the disappearance of Jongin’s comforting touch. Though, you’re not the only one that does. “My apologies, Ma’am. I should have known better.”

“Next time, don’t interrupt until I’m finished.” She places the papers in her hands rather firmly on top of her desk.

You can only avert your gaze to the floor as Kai shifts once more in his seat.

His fingers twitch, longing to comfort you like he knows his brother should be doing right now. Even if it’s as little as his hand on your back, he would offer you his support in any way he can, not take it away.

“As I was saying,” another sharp look is sent your way by Quincy, “in two days’ time, Don Vanderleen will be attending the ballet Swan Lake at the Holly Theatre. We have already reserved the booth seats for you and Jongin to attend with him. You’ll be covering as two private investors interested in his more personal affairs.” She looks at you when she says this, shifting her gaze to the man sitting to your left in the next second. “Kai, you are expected to perform the assassination from the rooftop through the large domed ceiling. We will not tolerate failure. Not when we’ve been working towards this goal for the past two years. It’s time we bring this warlord to justice.”

Immediately, the three of you are nodding your understanding, accepting the files she hands you from across her desk. Your alibis, new cover profiles, as well as all the information on who you’re going to be sitting with, interacting with, and how you will be acting are all included inside.

“Learn this inside and out,” Quincy states, leaning back in her chair and observing the three of you carefully. Then, she turns her sharp gaze towards both you and Jongin. “Tomorrow, you’ll be fitted for your outfits. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” You reply for the both of you.

“Until then,” she turns away from you to begin riffling through the one drawer of her desk. “Dismissed.”

The three of you do not need to be told twice. 

Standing, you all exit the room. Jongin leads, not even bothering to wait for you as Kai holds the door open. You smile slightly in thanks, and from that simply action alone, Kai can feel his heart attempting to beat right out of his chest. At least he knows that if anything were to happen, he will take much better care of you than his brother can.

Catching up with Jongin, you fall into step beside him. Casually, he wraps his arm around your waist, not even bothering to look in your direction as he does so.

Stopping in the main hall, you turn to face Kai once more.

“Thanks for covering for his ass tonight.” You meet Kai’s gaze as you poke Jongin in the side of the ribs. “I swear he’s never outgrown his baby stage.”

“Oh, so, you’ve noticed, too?” Kai quirks a brow, a grin tugging at his features.

“Hey!” Jongin whines, lips tugging downwards in a pout before pulling upwards in a smirk. Leaning in, he whispers in your ear loud enough for his brother to hear, “that’s not what you were saying last night.”

Kai’s jaw twitches, and he has to restrain himself from clocking his brother right in front of you at this very moment. He knows what Jongin is trying to do, and he won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing him snap.

“Jongin,” you hit his side, averting your gaze so sweetly as you do so.

If only Kai could make you react like that. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see you so bashful because of him. Him, and only him.

“Anyways,” you clear your throat, noticing how the elevator opens before you. Jongin must have called it while you weren’t looking. “We should get going, but did you need-“

“Come on, Darlin’,” Jongin tugs you into the elevator beside him. “I’ve had a long day, and I want to get home.”

You blink in mild shock, attempting to turn back towards Kai to finish offering him a ride home since you all drove in together this morning. Only, before another word can so much as leave you, Jongin is turning you towards himself and pressing his lips against your own as he cups your face.

The last thing Kai sees before the elevator doors close in his face is your surprised face before you’re completely melting into the kiss. The fact that he could just tell his brother had been watching his reaction out of the corner of his eyes sets his blood boiling.

Heading towards the stairs, Kai harshly slams the door open. His fists are clenched by his side as he begins to rush down them, the familiar burning of tears igniting behind his eyes. With how tight his jaw is clenched, he’s surprised his teeth don’t crack from the pressure.

Jongin is ruthless: dangling you in front of Kai like some toy. Viewing you as some grand prize to hold over his older brother every chance he gets. Only, that’s what Jongin doesn’t understand. You are not some toy. You are not an object to be owned and used as he pleases. 

That is what angers Kai the most. Jongin doesn’t even view you as a person, but simply another conquest that he can hold over his twin. A trophy to display whenever and however he wants, just to hurt Kai as much as possible.

If only you weren’t so blinded by your own emotions.

Emotions which shine clearly in your eyes as you pull away to stare deeply into Jongin’s own. The silence in the elevator is comforting, and the soft smile you see painting his features as he looks at you sets your heart racing.

You chuckle. “I wish you would stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” He hums innocently, his arms once more wrapped around your waist, and holding you flush against him.

“Kissing me so suddenly,” you poke his chest lightly. “If you want to kiss me, just ask.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He grins, leaning in to peck your lips one more time.

You roll your eyes playfully as you hear the familiar chime of the elevator doors opening.

Stepping out, Jongin follows close behind, grabbing your hand in his own. He swings your arms gently between the both of you as you walk to the car, pulling the keys out of your pocket and unlocking it quickly. You part only to slide into the seats, hands immediately finding one another over the console once you’re both settled inside.

Jongin turns to you, a tender look in his eyes. “Stay with me until sunrise?”

You smile, heart warming at the secret code you made for each other ever since your wedding night. A code which lets you know that you not only love one another, but will stay with each other until the end of time.

“Only if we get to watch the sunset.”

Pulling out of the parking garage, you take off down the road. The drive home is quick, quaint in the silence that settles around the both of you. Yet, with the comforting way he squeezes your hand, you wouldn’t want it any other way.

***

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed.

Pulling yourself up and tossing off the covers, you’re quick to get ready for the day. Jongin must already be up and waiting for you, opting to have let you sleep in for a little while longer.

Once you reach the kitchen, you’re surprised to see no sight of Jongin waiting for you. Not even a note has been written for you in attempts to explain his whereabouts.

Your brow furrows in slight worry. He couldn’t have left without you already, right? It wouldn’t be extremely odd for him to; not completely out of the ordinary. The last time he did something like this though, was at the very beginning of your relationship. Back when you were still learning everything there was to know about each other.

After having a quick breakfast, you begin to make your way towards the agency. You hope beyond everything that Jongin is already there waiting for you, and not having decided to just up and disappear. You know that he hates fitting days, but you never thought he’d run out on you like this.

Stepping through the door to the clothing department reveals Nancy waiting patiently for you behind her desk. Her sewing machine whirs softly, a piece of fabric being pushed beneath the threaded needle.

“I’ll be with you in a second!” She calls, her glasses close to sliding right off her nose as she concentrates on the hemline she seems to be sewing.

“Take your time, Nance,” you call, already moving over to your usual fitting spot.

A soft sigh escapes you as you sit on the edge of the little pedestal in front of the three way mirror. Blankly, you stare at your reflection, leaning forward to rest your elbow on your knee. 

Jongin still hasn’t answered any of your calls or texts, and you’re getting a bit concerned. The last time he skipped out on fitting day for an upcoming mission, you thought Quincy was going to hang him by his toes off of the side of the building. You just hope he has a decent excuse this time.

The sound of the door opening behind you draws your attention just as you finally get a response from him.

“Sorry I’m late,” a deep voice sounds, and you lock eyes with who appears to be your husband in the mirror.

You glance down to read the message.

Had an emergency arise. Cover for me?

“Jongin!” Nancy exclaims, eyes lighting up with mirth as she finally finishes sewing that piece of fabric together. “You’re right on time! Come in, come in!”

He gives her a tight smile, before turning to face you.

“I was worried.” Your brow furrows slightly, a disappointed downturn of your lips as you stand to your feet.

“I know,” he grimaces slightly, playing the part of the remorseful husband well. “I’m sorry, Darling.”

You let out another sigh. “You’re here now.”

Nancy glances between the two of you curiously, a minor quirk to her brow. “Trouble in paradise? I’ve never seen you two act so cold.”

“We’re fine, Nance,” you reply quickly. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

“Alright,” she shoots you a skeptical look. “I’ve already got the outfits ready for you both, so you just sit tight and wait here.”

Scurrying off to the back, Nancy disappears from sight.

You can hear her fumbling around with some clothes, cursing as she drops something. A loud clatter is heard from behind the stacks of fabric, and you see some beads scatter across the floor.

“You okay, Nan?” You call out.

“Yeah!” She assures you, cursing a few more times under her breath as she shifts things around. “I’m just going to be another minute.”

You can hear her muttering to herself about finding where she put the matching vest as more shuffling occurs.

Taking this opportunity, you turn towards the male standing beside you, only to see him already staring at you.

“Thank you,” keeping your voice low, you lean into him subtly. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you notice that he blinks a few times, as if you’ve just pulled him out of his own thoughts. “For covering for him.”

“Yeah, well,” Kai lets out an exasperated breath, “you know my brother.”

“He doesn’t deserve you.” You tell him honestly. “I don’t know how you put up with his shit all the time.”

“He’s done this before?” His brow quirks, an irritated twitch to his lips.

“Fittings aren’t the only things he likes skipping out on from time to time.” You say, glancing down at the ground with a frown. “‘Emergency’ my ass.”

You swear you see Kai’s nostril’s flare, but before he gets a chance to reply, Nancy is returning with two separate outfits in her hands.

“Sorry I took so long, couldn’t find the one vest for the life of me.” She chuckles, handing each of you your respective outfits. “Change into these. and then I can finish any alterations you may need.”

Grabbing the garments from her hands, both you and Kai enter your respective changing rooms. Not even five minutes later, you both step out, moving to stand on each of the two pedestals in front of the mirrors.

A low whistle escapes you.

“I always knew you’d look good in red.” You comment, eying the finely tailored suit that hugs Kai’s figure delicately.

The bright crimson stretches from the jacket, all the way down to his slacks. Even the vest he wears beneath is the same colour, exposing the slightest bit of his chest as there doesn’t seem to be a shirt buttoned underneath. The fact that his hair sits that golden blond atop his head only adds to the look, his honeyed skin practically glowing despite the harshness of the artificial lights.

Kai absolutely revels in your gaze. His breath hitches slightly as he sees you give him a few glances from head to toe, a shiver caressing his spine as he notices the corner of your lips twitching upwards. He knows you’re probably only picturing what Jongin will look like in such an outfit, but like hell is he letting anyone take this moment from him.

Finally, you are gazing at him just as he always knows he looks at you, and right now is no exception.

There you stand, in a gorgeous golden gown which accentuates every sinful curve of your body. A slit rests on the left side of the dress, following your leg upwards until about mid-thigh, allowing for ample movement in case things go south. Either way, you look absolutely radiant, and Kai curses his brother for being stupid enough to miss this.

He should be here, worshipping the very ground you walk on. Not fucking off on some random trip just cause he’s throwing a tantrum over fitting day.

“You look…” the words get caught in his throat as you meet his gaze, his breath hitching once more. He blinks, clearing his throat, “stunning.”

A soft smile graces your features as you avert your gaze, and if Kai didn’t know any better, he’d say he just made you shy.

His heart warms. Finally, he can say that he was the cause of your bashful reaction. Him, and him alone.

“Are you sure these outfits aren’t too…” you turn towards Nancy, “loud?”

“Yours? No.” She shakes her head. “His? Maybe.”

A chuckle escapes the woman’s mouth as you nod.

“I just remember you saying how you would love to see your husband in a bright red someday, that preferably isn’t blood.” She winks. “Though, I’m just surprised he didn’t fight you on it like he usually does. Equally surprised he didn’t complain this time around.”

You and Kai share a look.

“I simply decided that maybe I should listen to my beautiful wife for once.” Kai answers smoothy. “She’s usually right, after all.”

“Oh?” Nancy quirks her brow at this. “She finally smack some sense into your whiny ass?”

“I did no such thing!” You gasp, as if you’re truly scandalized by her words. Only, the playful wink you offer her immediately after has grins pulling at all of your faces.

“I just finally realized that I should appreciate the woman I love more often.” 

There is nothing but sincerely within his gaze as he looks at you when he says this. An intensity you almost long for from another male who looks exactly like him.

A puff of air escapes you, shaking your head lightly. “You always were the hopeless romantic.”

“For you?” He hums, turning back to face the mirror as he straightens out his blazer. “Always.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Nancy feign gagging.

“Bleck! Will you two stop being so lovey-dovey?” Her nose scrunches as she moves over to you to fix the hem of your skirt slightly. “It’s seriously gross.”

“You think this is us being lovey-dovey?” You snort out a laugh, the corner of your lips twitching upwards knowingly. You lift your head to meet Kai’s gaze, a playful roll to your eyes. “Oh, Honey, you’re just so sweet. I cannot bear to call you anything but.”

Kai shares a laugh with you, despite the way his heart races inside of his chest from your words. Sure, you may not mean it, but he’ll cherish this moment for as long as he can. After all, your words mean more to him that you’ll ever know.

“But, My Darling,” the grin that stretches across his features is nothing short of sultry, “you know that nothing can compare to your beauty. It’s enough to rival even the deepest of oceans, and highest of mountains, for it is eternal in the ways you captivate me.”

You both share another laugh, though this time, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Okay, now you’re just rubbing it in.” Nancy sighs, shooting an almost longing glance towards who she thinks is your husband. 

A glance which you immediately pick up on. 

You tense. 

“I wish someone would speak to me like that. Maybe I should flirt with you brother more often. See if he has as silvered a tongue as you, Jongin.” Nancy darts her gaze over at the male briefly before focussing back in on the task at hand.

Thank fuck Nancy is too busy hemming your skirt to look up to see the way Kai cannot hide the grimace that pulls onto his face at her words.

“You shouldn’t use him like that, Nancy. Kai is a gentleman, and you shouldn’t joke about getting him to do what you want. He doesn’t deserve that, and I don’t think he’s in the market anyways.” You state, rather casually as you smooth out the front of your dress. “Besides, aren’t you married.”

The judgement is clear on your features as you meet her gaze in the mirror. Lightly, you shake your head in disproval.

“A girl can dream.” Nancy sighs, her gaze once more flicking over at the male to your right.

“If you’re that unhappy in your marriage, Nance, you should probably get a divorce.” You say, a hint of concern now shining in your eyes. “To even imply you would cheat-“

“It was just a joke, sweetie,” she huffs, rolling her eyes a bit exasperatedly. “Lighten up.”

You purse your lips, letting out a long sigh through your nose.

“Jokes are meant to be funny.” 

Nancy shoots an incredulous look towards the male standing to your right.

“Geez,” she huffs, “didn’t realize you’d be so sensitive about your brother.”

The two of you share a look.

“Anyways, you’re probably right about the red being too loud for the ballet.” Nancy sighs, standing back to her feet. A second later, and she’s disappeared around the stacks of fabric only to reemerge holding a standard black suit and tie. “Change into this instead.”

Seamlessly, she hands the male the new outfit before he disappears back inside the change room. 

Once the curtain has slid closed, she leans into you, “Don’t worry. I’ll pack that little red ensemble for you separately.”

You quirk a small smile, somewhat sadly, “Thanks, Nance.”

A minute later, and Kai is stepping out in the muted suit, looking just as fine as he did in the red one.

“Your husband can certainly pull off anything he wants.” Nancy chuckles, a certain spark shining within her eyes that you don’t particularly like.

You simply quirk a tight smile in response as you step in to ‘adjust’ his tie.

“I think you’re negating the true beauty in the room.” He replies effortlessly, gaze locked with your own.

Your breath hitches, freezing right in your spot as you search his features. The sincerity alone that you can see shining within his eyes has your heart fluttering.

You turn away, clearing your throat. “So, should these be ready by tonight, or tomorrow morning?”

“I’ll have them ready for tonight. That way if you need to make any last minute alterations before the mission tomorrow we can do so then.” Nancy tells you, seeing you nod your understanding. “Kai will be in the same outfit as Jongin in case he gets spotted, only with a black button up to blend in better with the night.”

This time, you both nod your understanding. Of course, Nancy fails to see the way the two of you lock gazes.

You let out another sigh. 

“Well,” you step back into the change room, “better prepare for tomorrow.”

Sliding the curtain back over the rail, you slip out of the dress and back into your regular clothes. The moment you step back out, you’re handing the golden gown back to Nancy, thanking her lowly again. You notice Kai has also taken the liberty to change, handing the aforementioned female his brother’s outfit once more.

“I’ll be by later to pick them up,” you say, seeing her nod her head as she retreats back to her sewing machine for the moment.

Without another word, the two of you leave the room.

The walk to the elevators is silent, a sort of tension filling the air between the both of you. A tension which finally boils to a head when the elevator doors open to reveal Jongin laughing along with Shinobu inside. Her one hand playfully smacks his shoulder as her other covers her lower face, attempting to stifle her giggles as he grins widely. A faint blush creeps up her cheeks, her eyes shining with clear affection towards your husband.

Kai swears he sees red as he stands there, just as stiff as you as you both witness the scene before your very eyes.

Noticing the sudden tension around them, both Shinobu and Jongin turn their heads to see you and Kai standing there. Your expression remains unreadable, steeling your nerves as you step into the elevator with a curt nod to the other female. Kai, on the other hand, can barely control the shaking of his hands in anger.

The moment Shinobu scurries from the elevator, Kai is closing the distance between himself and his twin. His arm is pressed harshly across Jongin’s chest as he pins his younger brother to the back wall. 

The elevator doors slide closed.

“The fuck was that all about?” Kai hisses lowly. “Bailing on your wife to fucking flirt with your coworker? On fitting day, no less? Was that your fucking emergency?”

“Kai-“

Your somewhat exasperated reply gets cut off by Jongin shoving his twin off of him.

“You think I would be the one to cheat?” Jongin’s eyes widen slightly, his tone incredulous. “We just so happened to step into the elevator at the same time. Why are you always so adamant on finding something that isn’t there?”

“Maybe if you stopped acting like a fucking asshole, and treated you wife properly, I wouldn’t have to.” Kai spits, nothing but pure fury reflected in his gaze.

You can tell Jongin is about to reply, but your hands firmly pushing them apart stop him from going any further. You step between them, further separating the fire that continues to rage on between the two brothers.

“Enough.” You look from one male to the other. “We have a mission tomorrow, and the last thing we need is for you two to be at each other’s throats more so than usual.”

A brief silence where the tension crackles in the air like lightning before Kai is heaving a tremendous sigh.

“She’s right.” He takes a reluctant step back. “You should listen to your wife more often, it might just save your life.”

“Are you threatening me?” Jongin’s eyes are wild as he tilts his head at his brother.

“If you feel threatened, then by all means,” Kai gestures loosely towards Jongin.

Jongin’s lip part in retort before your sharp gaze is causing the words to catch in his throat. You turn to Kai.

“Thanks for covering for him today.” You say. “Him and I need to have a talk on the way home. See you tomorrow for the mission.”

Without another word, you’re hitting the button to open the elevator doors, a silent command for Kai to leave you and Jongin alone.

Reluctantly, the male exits the elevator, watching the doors close behind him with a look of pure irritation on his features. Irritation aimed directly at his twin, who only looks annoyed at this specific turn of events.

Clicking his tongue, Kai turns around. There’s not much for him to do for the moment, so he might as well release his anger doing something productive.

Heading to the shooting range, Kai rolls his shoulders. At least this way he can kill two birds with one stone: practice for the assassination tomorrow evening, and pretend he’s making his brother suffer as much as Jongin has made him throughout the years.

Oh, how Kai longs for the day where he can see that complete look of devastation wipe that smug grin from Jongin’s features. He’s fantasized how it would happen more times than he can count. The biggest being a scenario where you end up in his arms while Jongin is forced to reap the consequences of his actions. With how things are going, perhaps such a dream may come true sooner, rather than late.

Kai sighs, pulling out his favourite sniper rifle from the cage. At least once he’s done here he can prepare everything for tomorrow. After all, he never misses.

Meanwhile, back in the elevator, a tense silence settles over both you and Jongin as you ride down to the parking garage. Your arms are crossed over your chest as you refuse to so much as turn in your husband’s direction. The moment that familiar ding chimes and the doors open, you’re walking over to your car, an unreadable expression on your face.

“Come on, Darlin’,” Jongin flicks his bangs out his eyes, a look of annoyance on his features. “You seriously can’t be mad at me right now.”

“And why is that, Jongin?” You round on him, nothing but bitterness shining in your eyes as you stare at him from overtop of the car. “You left before sunrise, on a day where you knew we had somewhere to be. I understand you dislike fitting days, but do you realize what would have happened if you had been caught skipping again? Our line of work is already dangerous without having our own agency breathing down our necks and watching our every move. Do you want to be put on lockdown again?”

“We won’t be put on lockdown, again.” He sighs, exasperatedly while sliding into the passenger seat of the car. “Besides, Kai handled it just fine.”

Your nostrils flare as you move to sit in the drivers seat, slamming the door closed and pointedly starting the engine. “I’m lucky your brother even showed up.”

“Next time, you should just text him. He always seems to be at your beck and call, anyways.” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, no.” You shoot him a glare out of the corner of your eyes as you pull out of the parking garage. “You don’t get to pull the jealous card here.”

“Me? Jealous of my brother?” Jongin nearly scoffs. “As if he would ever have a chance with you.”

“I don’t know, he looked remarkable in red.” You comment lowly, noticing how he stiffens almost immediately from your words. “Quite slick with his tongue, too.”

“How dare you-“

“You honest to god think I would ever cheat on you, Jongin?” Your grip tightens on the steering wheel as you merge onto the highway. “After everything I’ve told you that happened with my parents? On how I feel about the matter? You think I would be capable of inflicting that type of pain on a person I love?”

“Well, when you say things like that…”

“How do you think it makes me feel to see you arrive late to work with Shinobu of all people after you run out on me claiming there’s some ‘emergency’ you have to take care of?” You counter, noticing how he averts his gaze in shame in the next second. “Do you have any idea how that looks, not just to me, but to anyone aware of the situation? I know for a fact you claimed ‘emergency’ just because you don’t want to deal with Nancy’s subtle flirtations with you. I don’t blame you for being uncomfortable around her, but the least you could do is tell me where you are. I’m your goddamn wife for fuck’s sake! You think I don’t notice when my own husband is both being hit on, and is uncomfortable by it?”

“Then, why don’t you say anything to her?” He grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do!” You exclaim, voice rising in pitch slightly. “I have, and when I did, you were the one who got mad at me for bringing it up!”

Of course, he didn’t get mad at you in front of her. Only once you were behind closed doors did he say to lay off of Nancy. Turns out your husband rather enjoys the attention, more so than the discomfort it causes him. Which is why you found Kai’s reassurance today, even if it was something as simple as backing you up while pretending to be your husband, so refreshing.

Before he can respond, you’re letting out a sigh through your nose. “Either way, it looks like you don’t have to worry about her flirting with you anymore. It seems as if she’s moving on to target your brother.”

“You say that as if it bothers you.” He mumbles lowly, refusing to meet your gaze as you pull off of the highway.

“Does it not bother you?” You cannot hide how appalled you sound. “He’s your brother, for god’s sake, Jongin! Kai deserves better than that, and you know it!”

“Then, why didn’t you marry him?” He snaps, slapping his hands onto his thighs in exasperation.

You go quiet, the silence deafening inside of the car.

You swallow thickly, keeping your voice low, “Because he’s not the one I fell in love with.”

You can feel him staring at you through the stillness that settles around the both of you.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” His voice is low, averting his gaze back down to his lap.

“Well, I do.” You reply quite sharply. “I know you’ve always been insecure about your brother, Jongin. It’s just not fair that you take it out on me.”

He remains quiet for the rest of the drive, still staring down at his hands.

You’re right. He knows you’re right. He’s just too proud to admit it.

Kai has always been the better twin. Smarter, funnier, more popular. Jongin cannot help but get jealous, even if he hates to admit that he does. Everything Jongin does, he does for approval, but all it seems to do is irritate Kai. He thought that following in his brother’s footsteps would make the elder like him more, but no matter what he does, he can never seem to win. 

And now he’s pulled you into that mess.

The moment the car stills in the driveway, Jongin is stepping out wordlessly. He can hear the low sigh you let out behind him as he moves to unlock the front door. Only, it seems as if he’s misplaced his keys again.

You heave another sigh, louder this time as you pull out your own keys to unlock the front door. Once inside, the two of you each head your separate ways.

The rest of the afternoon and evening is spent like this, a tense sort of silence between the both of you. Sure, you’ve had fights before, but never anything like this. You know Kai has always been a touchy subject for Jongin, but he’s never gone so far as to avoid you when you bring him up. Perhaps you should talk to him after you get back from picking up your outfits for tomorrow.

Only, when you step back through the door, Jongin has up and disappeared on you again. At least this time he left a note.

Needed to sort out my head. Be back in time for mission.

Letting out a sigh, you retreat to your bedroom. You might as well get as much sleep as you can before tomorrow. You have a feeling you’re going to need it.

***

Jongin doesn’t return home until an hour before you’re supposed to leave for the ballet. He walks in to see you pacing near the front, already dressed and ready for the evening assassination.

You can see the words forming on his lips, but you raise a hand into the air to stop him. “Save it. You need to get ready.”

A solemn nod is all you receive in response as Jongin retreats to the bedroom. Not even forty minutes later, he reappears, fully dressed and ready to go. 

The button up he wears beneath his open blazer is slightly larger than it should be, the white material spilling out further than it should where it’s tucked into his pants. He struggles to fix it, and you can only click your tongue in response. Nancy adjusted his outfit based on Kai’s measurements yesterday, and Jongin’s brother just so happens to be the slightest bit buffer than he is.

The clothes still fit, just not as well as they should.

Looking upwards, you finally meet his gaze.

“I won’t ask you where you’ve been.” Your first real words to him since he’s gotten back. “Whatever you needed to sort out was your business. Just-“ you let out a somewhat sad sigh, “if this isn’t working out for you anymore, Jongin, all I ask is that you don’t string me along.”

Immediately, he’s shaking his head, closing the distance between the both of you in order to take your hands gently into his.

“I-“

The front door opens, and in steps Kai.

You drop Jongin’s hands. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Kai’s brow quirks, gaze darting between the both of you, “Am I interrupting something?”

Jongin is quick to recover, the corner of his lips quirking upwards as he huffs out a laugh, “Nothing of importance.”

He fails to see the way your entire demeanour falls, but Kai doesn’t. However, before the elder male can so much as ask if you’re okay, you’re walking past him.

“Let’s get this over with.” You mumble, grabbing your clutch from the front table and heading out the door.

Kai spares a brief glance over to his brother, of whom simply shrugs in response.

Letting out a deep sigh, Kai is quick to follow right behind you, shaking his head the whole while. Looks like his brother royally screwed up again, and of course, Kai will have to do damage control to clean up his mess.

As Jongin locks up, Kai takes this time to subtly lean into you.

“You look gorgeous, by the way.” He keeps his tone low, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as his eyes roam your figure.

You smile lightly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Jongin’s pointed huff draws both of your attention. “Let’s go.”

Silently, Kai watches as you both slide into the backseat of his car. He’s supposed to act as your chauffeur this evening, and drop you off at the venue before finding a place to safely park the car and assume his position. He just hopes you can all last the night.

About halfway through the drive, you get a call from Quincy.

“Have you heard the news?” Her gruff voice sounds through the speakers of your phone, allowing the two males to hear the conversation at her instruction.

“What news?” Kai’s brow furrows.

“Both Shinobu and Nancy were found dead in their homes this morning.” She says, and you cannot prevent the way your breath hitches in your throat. “We suspect it was Don Vanderleen’s men sending a warning to us before the events of tonight. You three be extra careful, and make sure you don’t fuck this up. The last thing we need is more of our good agents being taken down.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Your reply is somewhat breathless as she soon ends the call.

A heavy silence permeates the air between the three of you as you get closer to the theatre. The news is both sudden and shocking, causing your blood to run cold. You might not actually be prepared for what you’ve just gotten yourself into.

“Are you okay?” Jongin stares intently at you, reaching over to place a gentle hand over your own in your lap.

“Yeah.” You blink, seemingly focussing back in on the reality around you. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

You fail to see the worried glance Kai sends you through the rearview mirror. Though, there’s something else hidden there, too. Something far more sinister than either of you two realize as his gaze shifts to the male offering you comforts from beside you.

“We’re almost there,” Kai states, somewhat roughly.

He clears his throat.

“The sooner we get this done, the better.” You sigh, eyes falling shut as you run a hand lightly over the side of your face. “Remember, if anything goes wrong, we rendezvous at the hotel across the street.”

“Right.” Both males respond at the same time, firmly nodding their heads once each.

Pulling up just outside of the theatre, you exhale a breath through your nose. Steeling your features into a look of determination, you motion for Jongin to exit the car.

“Let’s do this.”

The moment the car door opens, you can tell that Jongin has slipped into his persona for the evening. As he reaches back to help you exit the vehicle, you immediately do the same.

No longer are you both mister and missus Kim, but the Rover’s. Two souls madly in love with one another to the point of it becoming obnoxious to the people around you. People cannot help but to notice how you cling onto one another, giving you each the perfect alibi for when the time comes. You are to be inseparable. At least, to those around you.

Jongin is quick to wrap his arm around your waist as soon as you move to stand beside him. His touch is nothing but gentle, thumb smoothing over the material of your dress as he guides you inside. Each step is meticulous, your eyes subtly scanning the crowd for potential targets, security, and escapes routes. You all may have planned for this evening, but that doesn’t mean something couldn’t go very wrong.

Stepping up to the entrance, Jongin is quick to pull the two tickets reserved for the both of you out of the inside of his suit jacket. Wordlessly, he hands them to the concierge, whispering lowly how excited he is to spend the night with his beautiful wife.

You giggle at this, leaning in to him and placing a hand on his chest. Your own reply is low as you tell him it’s because you’re finally able to spend some time with your handsome husband that you’re able to look this good for him.

The way the concierge smiles tightly at you both while handing you both your tickets says it all. At least the act is believable.

“Enjoy the show.” He comments lowly, eyes pleading for the two of you to hurry inside.

“Oh, believe me,” your painted lips curl upwards in a sultry grin. “We will.”

You swear that were the poor man not working, he would have gagged at the way you giggle after your own words. You can tell he’s relieved to be rid of you as he holds the door open for the both of you to slip inside, nearly chuckling to yourself at his tight expression as soon as you’re passed him.

Jongin’s grip tightens slightly around your waist.

“There he is.” He leans in once more to whisper lowly in your ear, motioning to the side with his chin.

Shifting your gaze, you follow in the direction he’s pointed you in. A blink, and you see your target standing by the complimentary bar. A glass of wine rests in his grubby hands, high profile women and men surrounding him on either side. A boisterous laugh escapes him, his dark hair slicked back with grease as a wolfish grin tugs at his lips. Even from here, you can see the sheen of sweat that paints his flushed skin, and you nearly gag.

“I just hope I don’t get a single drop of that man’s vile blood on me tonight, but I know that’s just wishful thinking.” You mutter, disgust pulling at your features.

“You and me both, Darlin’.” Jongin replies, holding you tighter against him. “Are you ready?”

“If we didn’t have to interact with him all night, I would count myself blessed.” You exhale sharply through your nose. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jongin squeezes your waist reassuringly as he begins to lead you both over to that group of investors surrounding Don Vanderleen. A group which your agency painstakingly infiltrated to make both you and Jongin a part of as the Rover’s.

“Good evening, Mister Vanderleen,” you cut in smoothly into the conversation, drawing everybody’s attention as you extend your hand out for him to shake. “It’s an honour to make your acquaintance.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes, and immediately he’s reaching out to grasp your hand in his own. Only, instead of shaking it, he brings the back up to his lips, placing what you’re sure is supposed to be a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You nearly grimace at the moist feeling left lingering on your hand, resisting the urge to wipe off the residue of the kiss this vile excuse of a man has given you. Hell, even Jongin tenses beside you.

“Ah, yes,” he hums, nodding firmly in Jongin’s direction. “You must be the Rover’s. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all ours,” Jongin replies, forcing a polite smile onto his lips.

“Once my dear hubby told me about the opportunities our investments could lead to with you, I couldn’t wait to meet you.” Your voice portrays the perfect mix of both enthusiasm and excitement. “He said you’d have further information for us on what this grants us in shares tonight?”

Vanderleen laughs at this, his whole chest shaking as the people around you all chuckle.

“Someone’s a little eager lily,” he grins, but it only serves to make you feel unnerved. You don’t particularly enjoy the way he continues to eye you up and down, licking his lips as if he is ready to consume you at any moment. “I promise to let both you and your husband know everything you need to know when the time is right, little missy. Preferably when we’re somewhere a little more private.”

You smile your understanding, even if it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Still, it’s enough to fool the people standing around you.

You both fall into idle smalltalk after that, conversing with the rest of his supposed investors for the evening. That is, until the doors open, and everyone is filing into their respective seats.

Jongin and you follow Don Vanderleen all the way up to the special booth that has been reserved for you this evening. Only you, your husband, your target, and three others of Vanderleen’s party have been reserved for this balcony, making it much easier for you, Jongin, and Kai to do what you’ve come here to do.

The six seats rest three to a row, you and Jongin in front, while Vanderleen’s men file in the back. Unfortunately for you, the man of the hour decides to sit on your left, and he doesn’t seem to be that big of a fan of personal space.

The only thing separating you from the male beside you is the armrest, and you choose to angle yourself as far away from him as possible without drawing suspicion to yourself. Of course, with your covers, it’s easy for you to lean as close to Jongin as possible. It simply appears as you being unequivocally in love with him, but it becomes increasingly difficult not to twitch each time the man on your left ‘accidentally’ brushes against you in some way.

Clearing your throat, you steel yourself for talking to this man once more.

“We’re somewhere more private now, Sir Vanderleen,” you comment. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Please,” he leans in closer to you, and you can smell the alcohol clinging to his rancid breath. You nearly gag. “Call me Don.”

“Alright then,” you smile politely, eyes crinkling, “Don.”

You swear you see the man shiver before you.

“Well, as you know, my company handles many different aspects of many different industries.” The moment he sees you nod eagerly, he continues, “my business covers every domain you could possibly imagine: finances, political influences,” he purposely meets your gaze, “pleasure.”

You cannot prevent the way your eyes widen naturally at this.

“Ah, I see that has caught your interest.” He chuckles, his hand resting dangerously close to you on the armrest as his fingers curl around the wood. “I suppose I could let you in on the more private aspects of our company later on. After all, you seem like a very respectable woman who knows what she wants.”

“She certainly doesn’t take things for granted,” Jongin chimes in, his arm casually settling around your shoulders as he pulls you the slightest bit closer to him. “Unlike some people.”

Something within the other male’s eyes flash, but he backs off. For now.

“I see,” he hums, settling back into his seat. “I suppose that conversation will have to wait for a different time, then.”

The lights begin to dim, the orchestra picking up their instruments in preparation for the beginning of the show.

“I suppose so.” You hum, turning your attention to the front as you settle further into Jongin’s side.

It’s almost time.

The curtain rises, and the true event finally begins.

Near the end of act one, Jongin excuses himself to the men’s room just as planned. Only, you don’t expect Don Vanderleen to take this opportunity to lean further into you.

Casually, the male replaces where Jongin’s arm had been with his own, his wandering fingers dancing along the skin of your shoulder.

You nearly shiver in disgust.

“I’d say this is more private, wouldn’t you?” He grins, keeping his voice low as he closes the remaining distance between your bodies. “Perfect timing to talk about more personal matters, if you’d like.”

No, what you’d like is to continue watching the ballet. You wish for Jongin to hurry the fuck up with clearing out Vanderleen’s bodyguards from the booth, and to get as far away from this man before the bullets start flying. However, you know that that’s not what you came here to do. You nearly sigh, putting on an expression of pure curiosity instead as you turn to face the male beside you.

“Of course,” you reply, just as lowly. “I would like nothing more.”

“This one aspect is very dear to me, I hardly tell anyone about it unless I consider them truly worthy to hear it.” He meets your gaze, a sort of lull in the way he speaks to you, as if he were speaking to a child. “What I tell you stays between us, alright little missy? This is for your ears only.”

You nod your understanding, fingers tightening over one another as you hold them stiffly in your lap.

“You see, I only offer these positions to the utmost important people who have proved they are qualified to suit my needs.” He licks his lips, gaze shamelessly roaming down your front. “It’s a personal position which guarantees you’ll never have to worry about another thing in your life.”

You have to prevent yourself from clenching your teeth in anger. You know exactly where this is leading, for this is the exact same spiel he tells all the women he tricks into signing themselves over to him to be trafficked.

“You would be living a life of complete luxury, moving from one place to another, and visiting countries of your wildest dreams.” He continues, creeping closer with each word. “You would meet so many important dignitaries. Everyone would want to be you, and everyone would desire what you have.”

“Why, this offer sounds almost too good to refuse,” you chuckle, somewhat nervously.

Jongin sure is taking his sweet time. He should be back by now, right?

“You would be foolish not to accept.” He chuckles along with you. “After all, you’d never have to worry about anything ever again. I’d take care of all of it for you, and I’m a man who never goes back on my word.” His free hand comes to settle on your knee, and this time, you cannot prevent the shiver of disgust that trails down your spine. Only, he perceives it as something else. You can just tell from the way that he smirks. “Especially not when you’d be personally working for me.”

You absolutely despise the way he drawls those words out, his rancid breath tickling the shell of your ear.

Luckily, it’s at this point that Jongin finally returns, taking note of how stiff you sit while Don Vanderleen practically drapes himself over you.

Harshly, he clears his throat. “Am I interrupting something?”

Vanderleen smirks, pulling away from you rather slowly, “Not at all.”

“Don was just telling me all about a special opportunity he had for me,” you say innocently as Jongin sits back in his seat to your right.

You notice both males stiffen on either side of you.

“Missy, I thought we agreed that that was to stay between us.” There’s a sudden sharpness to his gaze that you do not fail to pick up on.

“Yes, but I don’t do anything without my loving husband.” You chuckle, leaning yourself further into Jongin’s side. Your gaze darts to him, and your eyes nearly widen at the small stain of red that smudges the collar of his white shirt. Thinking quickly, you angle yourself into him, lips pressing delicately against the material and leaving a bright red lipstick stain over the mark. You blink up at him innocently. “Isn’t that right, My Love.”

“Always, My Love.” Jongin purposefully meets Vanderleen’s gaze from over the top of your head as his arms pull you in closer. “I’m sure you’d do the same to protect what’s yours.”

Vanderleen’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance. “Undoubtably.”

The moment the male turns back to observe the stage, all hell breaks loose.

The sound of shattering glass is synonymous with the screams of terror that suddenly fill the venue as gunshots ring throughout. People panicking and running from their seats to the exits block every chance of escape, swarming the aisle as shouting reaches your ears.

A bullet just misses your shoulder.

A loud cry of pain from your left reaches your ears, and in the blink of an eye, you feel yourself be pulled down onto the ground on top of a body. Sparing a glance downwards reveals your husband clinging to your for dear life, a fear unlike ever before shining within his gaze. Blood seeps into the material of his blazer, staining his white shirt red beneath his black suit as he holds you above him. 

To the side, Don Vanderleen bleeds out. A cough escapes him, nothing but red falling from his lips and choking him out as he reaches towards you one final time before falling dead right before your very eyes.

Another gunshot is heard from above.

Scrambling to your feet, you duck for cover behind the wall of the balcony. Jongin follows right behind, using his body as a shield to cover you this time.

“Are you hurt?” He turns to you once you’re both out of range, checking you over for injuries.

You shake your head. “Are you?”

Your eyes catch on the red now staining his clothes and your breath hitches, hands scrambling to find the injury before he bleeds out.

“Don’t worry, Darlin’,” he assures you, gently stroking his hands down the sides of your arms despite the chaos erupting around you. “It’s not mine.”

His words only help to ease your worry a fraction.

“There was another sniper.” You comment lowly.

“Kai can handle it.” He states.

At the look you send him, he sighs.

“Fine.” Jongin removes his blazer, wrapping it securely around your shoulders. “You’ve done what you came here to do. I’ll go check on him, and then I’ll meet you at the hotel across the street. Okay?”

“But-“

“Darlin’,” there’s that same look of fear in his eyes from only a few minutes ago, “I almost lost you tonight. Don’t make me go through that again.”

A silent understanding passes between the both of you, and you recognize that he’s not just referring to tonight, but yesterday as well. That fight feels like so long ago now, given the circumstances of the evening. Yet, you still find yourself nodding your head.

“I promise to be as quick as I can.” He kisses your forehead briefly.

“Be safe,” you squeeze his hands gently. “I want to be able to watch the sunset with you.”

He smiles. “As long as you stay with me for the sunrise.”

A nod is all he receives from you before he’s disappearing around the corner. He can feel his heart pounding as he races to the roof, hoping beyond everything that you manage to get out safely, and that his brother is okay.

***

Looking back on it now, this is probably the second worst night of Kai’s entire life. Sure, the male has been in some tricky situations before, but none as harrowing as this one.

First, he had to watch you be even more loving towards his brother all evening. Then, he had to sit through that filth of a man coming onto you throughout the entirety of the second act of Swan Lake. He was so distracted by his anger, that he failed to see the second presence creeping onto the roof a little ways away from him. It wasn’t until he saw the reflection of the lights upon the sniper’s watch that Kai noticed the other male taking aim directly at you.

Kai saw red, his body moving on instinct at that. It nearly cost him the mission, but more importantly, your life.

What made the situation worse was when he watched his brother pull you on top of himself for protection. The bastard couldn’t even protect you properly, opting to sacrifice you to save himself.

Now, as he wrestles off the other sniper’s back-up, he finds himself gritting his teeth in frustration. He has no idea if you got out safely, or if you’re injured. The only thing he does know, is that that bastard Don Vanderleen is finally dead.

Like hell Kai would ever let that pathetic excuse of a human live after watching what he did to you tonight.

A gunshot sounds in the night air, and Kai swears he’s about to feel the worst pain of his life. Only, at the way the man on top of him falls limply to his side, he realizes that someone is here to aid him.

“Couldn’t handle a few measly little troopers?” Jongin’s familiar mocking tone calls out through the silence. “You’re losing your touch.”

“I was doing just fine until you showed up.” Kai responds gruffly, pushing himself back to his feet and noticing all of the other henchmen have been disposed of.

“Uh-huh,” Jongin hums knowingly, a quirk to his brow as he tosses the gun in his hand to the side. “Sure.”

Kai spares a glance at his brother, noticing the blood that stains his once pure white shirt. He freezes, eyes locking on that mark of bright red lipstick that practically glares at him from the collar of Jongin’s shirt.

“Is that-“ the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows.

At the way his elder twin keeps glancing at the blood on his shirt, Jongin is quick to understand what he’s asking.

“I know, right?” Jongin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Disgusting. The bastard bled all over me.”

Kai nearly lunges at his brother, but he realizes Jongin isn’t actually talking about you. He clears his throat. “And our partner?”

“My wife is fine, thanks for asking.” Jongin replies, a dry huff escaping him. “You nearly missed by the way.”

“Yeah, well, I had my hands full.” Kai begins to quickly disassemble his rifle, storing it back in its case.

“Didn’t think a few weaklings like this could slow you down.” Jongin rolls his eyes.

“I was a little busy attempting not to blow the fucker’s brains out early for assaulting your wife.” Kai snaps, his patience growing thinner by the second. “While you were off eyeing the ballerinas, I was actually doing my job.”

“You think I would risk the mission to go peep on the performers?” Jongin’s voice is incredulous. “You really think I would cheat on my wife?” 

“Now that your other two hustles are dead, I assumed you were in the market for a new one.” Kai retorts, zipping up his rifle’s case quite pointedly before slinging it onto his back.

“Never thought you’d be one to disrespect the dead, but here we are.” Jongin shakes his head. “You are so adamant on making me into the bad guy, Kai, and I just don’t understand why.”

“How can I make you into something you already are?” Kai tilts his head, almost mockingly at his brother.

“What do you think I could have possibly done this time?” Jongin replies, throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly.

“I definitely didn’t think up you pulling your own goddamn wife on top of you when bullets started flying just so you could save your own skin!” Kai’s tone is harsh, nothing but pure anger pulling at his brow. “How about that conversation I walked in on tonight. Did you or did you not practically admit to her that she was unimportant? To your own wife, nonetheless. Not to mention the countless times you’ve ignored her needs in favour of your own. Do you even know how she feels when you flirt so openly with other people around her? I can’t imagine it feels good.”

“You know nothing, Kai,” Jongin seethes, his hands clenching into fists beside him. “Stop pretending that you do.”

“Don’t I?” Kai drops his bags, the material making a dull thunk as it hits the roof. “I’ve lived with you our whole lives, Jongin. I know when you’re lying, and I know for a fact that you don’t love her. If you did, you wouldn’t do half the shit that you do.”

“How dare you say that I don’t love her!” Jongin spits back, voice low and deadly. His eyes flash with the same intensity as his brother’s across from him, the air becoming thick with tension. “I love her more than anything in this godforsaken world!”

“Like hell you do!” Kai’s fury spikes, sanity close to snapping.

“What would you know of the matter? You don’t know half the shit I’ve done for her.” Jongin hisses through gritted teeth. “I made sure to kill every fucking doubt she’s had about our relationship recently. Doubts you don’t know anything about. There’s nothing, no one in this world that loves her more than I do. I would do anything for her, and that’s more than you can say.”

Kai goes so still, he swears that he’s stopped breathing. His mind races with all that tonight has offered him. Not even a second later, his entire body begins to tremble.

“You’re wrong.” His voice is low, deadly like the approach of an oncoming storm. Already, he can see his vision blurring, fading in and out as he attempts to ground himself. “There will always be one person who will love her, who can always love her, more.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jongin scoffs, crossing his arms in front of her chest. “And just who might that be?”

A beat of silence as the two males lock eyes from across the roof.

“Me.”

Without wasting another thought, the two males lunge.

***

His breathing is uneven as he stumbles down the hallway of the hotel. The stairs were a bit of a challenge, but he figured it’d be easier and less conspicuous than taking the elevator to the top floor. Even still, his lungs burn as he braces himself against the wall, chest heaving with every breath.

Blood drips down his face and onto the white of his shirt, nearly smudging against that perfect imprint of your lips on the collar. Blood that is no longer his own. Every time he closes his eyes, he can still hear the sound of his fist on flesh, bones cracking beneath his fingers as fabric tore upon his skin.

Out of the corner of his eye, a ring glints on his finger. The light from the fluorescents makes the golden band glow, and from that simple glance alone, he can feel his heart racing inside of his chest.

The only thought on his mind right now is you. 

He needs to find you. To make sure that you’re okay. To make sure that you’re safe.

His head spins, and he can barely see through his blurring vision. He doesn’t even know how he managed to get down from the roof of the theatre and make his way to the hotel across the street, but he did. All just to see you.

Stumbling to the door, he checks the room number once more. Seeing it’s the correct one this time, he begins to jostle the knob.

Locked.

A sigh heaves from his throat, resting his forehead against the dark wood separating you from him. 

If only he still had his key.

Movement heard on the other side of the door catches his attention. A moment later, and the lock is sliding out of place, the wood opening to reveal your face gazing upon him in worry.

“Jongin,” you seemingly breathe out a sigh of relief. “Leave it to you to lose your keys again.” You shake your head lightly, pulling him inside quickly. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Not even a minute later, you’ve sat the male on the bathroom counter, a towel held in your hands as you stand between his legs.

“I was worried about you, you know.” You dip the towel in some water before beginning to gently clean the blood from his face. “I didn’t think you would take so long.”

He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

His voice sounds a bit strained, tone a deeper than usual. You chalk that up to stress. He usually sounds this way when he’s tired.

“Are you okay?” You pause your movements to stare deeply into his eyes. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

He shakes his head, gaze flitting everywhere over your features as if to commit your concerned expression to memory.

“Good.” You smile lightly, continuing to clean the blood from his face. “This doesn’t mean I’m not still upset at you, by the way.”

“I’m sorry.” His response is immediate, hands coming up to cup your face gently as he meets your gaze. “For everything. I know I’m an asshole, and I can be selfish. The thought of losing you is just too difficult for me to bear, and after tonight I promise you I’ll be a better man. I’ll be the perfect husband from now on. I won’t make you doubt. I’ll treat you right, like you’ve always deserved.”

You quirk a brow, the corner of your lips twitching upwards slightly in amusement.

“Someone still in character?” You joke lightly, shifting the cloth to begin wiping the blood from his neck. There seems to be a small scrape near his left eyebrow, but it no longer appears to be bleeding.

Softly, he releases his hold on your face, grabbing your wrist in his one hand to halt your movements.

“Tonight has just made me realize that I need to stop taking things for granted, especially you.” He replies earnestly. “Every day, I count myself lucky that a sinner like me has been blessed to love an angel like you.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement. “I thought you didn’t like all that religious talk?”

He hums, pulling you the slightest bit closer to wrap his arms around your waist. If only you could hear just how fast his heart is racing. “I think I can make an exception just this once.”

“I should mark the calendar.” You tease, poking his chest. “You finally admitted your faults for once.”

His lips part dramatically. “But Darling, you know that I’m already perfect.”

“There he is,” you chuckle, shoving him playfully.

“Who?” He quirks a brow.

“My loving husband, of course.” You grin, rolling your eyes lightly.

His lips part, and he pulls you flush against his chest. Tightly, he holds you to him, his face buried into the side of your neck as his whole body shakes.

“Jongin, what’s gotten into you tonight?” You pat his back warily. “You’re awfully affectionate.”

“I told you,” he whispers lowly, “I need to appreciate what I have before it’s gone.”

“You’re not going to lose me.” You gently begin to card your fingers through his hair, hearing him hum lightly in response. “Not that easily.”

His grip tightens around your waist, absolutely revelling in this moment here with you. “I don’t deserve you.”

Immediately, you pull away to look into his eyes, a somewhat stern look on your face. “Don’t start that again.”

“What?” His brow furrows the slightest bit in confusion.

“Saying that you’re unworthy of my love.” This time, it’s you who cups his face in your hands. “You are more than worthy, Baby. Don’t ever forget that.”

You notice tears begin to well in his eyes, spilling over in the next moment. Tears which you are quick to brush away.

“You know, sometimes I cannot help but wonder,” you hum, noticing you have his complete and utter attention, “would you still have proposed if you didn’t think your brother approved of me?”

The way he tenses slightly, breath seemingly hitching in his throat has you smiling reassuringly at him.

“I know how desperately you long for his approval, Jongin, and I know that’s why you act out sometimes,” you keep your voice low. “Know that you don’t need his approval for anything. He probably doesn’t need yours, so don’t worry about his.”

All the male before you can do is blink.

“I’m proud of who you are.” You tell him, finally finishing wiping the blood from his skin. “I hope that counts for something.”

“It counts for everything,” he breathes, thumbs stroking languidly against the skin of your hips.

Again, you smile, placing the used towel in the hamper provided for you beside the sink.

“He’s okay, though, right?” You search his features, noting the irritated twitch of his brow. “You managed to find him on the roof?”

“I didn’t see him,” he replies, somewhat gruffly.

Your head tilts slightly, brow furrowing in worry. “I thought the whole reason I sent you up to the roof in the first place was so you could make sure he was okay.”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Darling.” A sigh escapes him through his nose. “It’s not like he hasn’t up and disappeared on you before.”

“On us, Jongin.” Your frown deepens, turning to exit the bathroom. “Maybe I should call him just in case.”

A hand on your wrist stops you.

“Why do you care so much about him, anyways?” There’s something shining behind his eyes that you don’t quite understand, but you turn around to face him regardless.

“I thought we talked about this, Jongin.” You sigh lowly. “Kai is still your brother. I care about him in the same ways I know you care about him. Even if you don’t want to admit it, I know you worry about him.”

“He didn’t care about me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it.” You meet his gaze with a stern one of your own. “Your brother-“

“Can we please stop talking about my brother?” The exasperation is clear in his voice as he practically pleads with you using his eyes.

Your expression softens, “Of course, Baby.”

The male seemingly breathes a sigh a relief, releasing his hold on your wrist not even a moment later.

“Why don’t you grab a shower, and then we can head to bed?” You turn to the cabinet to pull out a fresh set of towels. “We’ve both had a long day.”

“Will you join me?” Before he can stop himself, the words are out of his mouth.

Turning to look at him from over your shoulder, you smile, repeating your words from a mere minute earlier, “Of course, Baby.”

Grabbing another set of fresh towels, you place them both on top of the counter. Even though you already showered off before he returned, you don’t mind joining your husband one bit. Besides, he looks like he could use your company.

By the time you’ve turned back around, he’s already undone all the buttons on his shirt, his torso on full display. You couldn’t really tell before, but it’s as if his shirt suddenly had fit him better, unlike at the beginning of the evening. Either way, you shamelessly trail your gaze over his front, watching with a darkening gaze as he begins to unbuckle his belt.

The way his breath hitches as he looks up to see you already staring at him with hooded eyes does not go unnoticed by you.

“What?” The corner of your lips quirk upwards. “Am I not allowed to admire my husband from time to time?”

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. “You can admire me anytime you’d like, Darling.”

A tender smile is all he receives from you in response as you move to turn on the shower. Testing the water, you make sure it’s a desirable temperature before ridding yourself of your own clothes.

The whole time you strip, you can feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. You can feel your whole body warm beneath his stare, even more so when you turn to face him.

There he stands, looking completely mesmerized by you. He’s gazing at you as if you hung each and every single star in the night sky personally just for him, his eyes shining with the deepest form of admiration you’ve ever seen him give you. It makes you feel shy, darting your gaze to the side briefly to avoid the intensity of his own.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You mumble, stepping into the shower shortly afterwards.

He follows right behind, humming lightly. “Like what?”

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen me naked before,” you chuckle, turning to face him and poking him lightly on his chest.

He stands beneath the spray of water, feeling it cascade down the planes of his back as he meets your gaze. He quirks a brow, never shifting his eyes from your own for one second, “Am I not allowed to admire my beautiful goddess that has chosen to fully reveal herself to a sinner like me?”

You can feel your cheeks heating, and you know it’s not from the steam of the shower. “Again with the religious talk?”

“Maybe I’m a changed man.” He grins, hands finding purchase gently on your hips, but never wandering.

A fact which you find quite peculiar at the moment, for you know Jongin would take every and any opportunity to squeeze your ass while you’re both naked in the shower.

“You’re certainly acting like it,” your hands settle on the skin of his shoulders, sliding upwards to caress his neck, followed immediately by you cupping his face gingerly as you stare into his eyes.

“I thought I told you that I was going to start appreciating you more.” He hums knowingly. “After all, you deserve no less.”

Again, your brow quirks teasingly. “Okay, Mister Rover.”

He simply smiles in response, the familiar crinkling of his eyes offering you comfort during this time.

Nothing more is said between the both of you as you wash each other beneath the warmth of the water. Every touch is careful, tender in the way his fingers caress your skin. What’s even more surprising is that he watches your reactions carefully, never lingering too long on your ass or your breasts more than is necessary. A stark contrast to what you’re used to with him, but it’s quite nice for a change. Refreshing, in a way. Something you have always longed for with him.

Softly, your fingers massage his scalp as you wash his hair. His eyes flutter shut, absolutely revealing in such a tender moment with you here in time.

All too soon, you’re both stepping out of the shower. You hand him one of the towels as you begin to dry yourself off, noticing how his gaze still never leaves your form. Only, his gentle touch halts you before you can get very far.

“Here,” he takes the towel from your hands, his already secured around his waist as water droplets cascade down his chest. “Let me.”

His touch is soft as the plushness of the towel caresses your form. He starts at your shoulders, sliding the cloth down each arm individually before bringing your hands up to place a kiss upon the back of them both times. Then, he’s moving down your torso, thumbs smoothing over the fabric as he dries your chest. The way he cups your breasts is so tender, your nipples hardening from his ministrations as you nearly let out a low moan.

He steps closer.

Everywhere that towel graces your skin, his loving gaze is quick to follow. There is not a single part of you that goes untouched, that he has not touched before, but this is the most intimate moment you think you’ve ever shared with him. Never has he caressed you like this before. Hell, never has he gazed upon you like this before.

Selfishly, you never want it to stop.

The sound of the towel being dropped onto the floor draws your attention. His hands rest on your waist, fingers trembling against your skin as he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

“You are perfect in every way, Darling. Did you know that? Perfect, and so, so, so, so, so beautiful.”His voice is barely above a whisper, but you still hear him loud and clear. He sighs your name so tenderly, as if it is a gospel upon his lips and only you can offer him rapture. “I love you. So goddamn much.”

Your expression softens, hand coming up to cup the side of his face as you stare down at him with nothing but love in your eyes.

“Please, Darling,” his grip tightens ever so faintly around your waist, “may I touch you? May I kiss you, and make love to you like you’ve always deserved? I want to treat you right, and make you feel good. Tonight, it’s all about you.”

Your heart positively flutters at his words, breath catching in your throat.

“Please?” He’s close to begging at this point, but he doesn’t care. This night has already been everything that he could have ever asked for, and so much more.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. He actually asked this time.

The answer escapes you before you even have the chance to think about it, tears of content welling in your eyes. 

“Yes.” You nod vigorously. “Yes, you may.”

The smile that stretches across his features is nothing short of brilliant, staring up at you with nothing but awe reflected in his gaze. Slowly, his hands slide down your waist, settling onto the sides of your thighs as he leans into you.

Softly, he places his lips upon your skin. Starting at about your mid-thigh, he takes his time trailing gentle kisses up your body, hands holding you steady. You cannot tell who’s shaking more, you or him, but at the feeling of his tongue darting out to soothe over your skin, you find that you don’t particularly care.

Each press of his lips against you is meticulous, nothing more than a gentle caress as he ascends your figure, muttering praises all the while.

“Your curves are hypnotizing, Darling.” He breathes against your skin, hands trailing along your sides as if to emphasize his words. 

“I adore your thighs. They’re so soft and warm, and attached to the most beautiful legs I’ve ever seen.” He brings his one hand down to give your flesh an appreciative squeeze, fingers sinking delicately into your skin.

Gently, his hands find purchase on your waist once more as he trails kisses all along your stomach, breathing deepening with each one. The press of his lips becomes more desperate with every meeting against your flesh, beginning to sensually lave his mouth over you the further upwards he gets.

Darting his gaze upwards, he sees you already staring down at him with hooded eyes. Your breathing has deepened, and your lips are slightly parted. What makes this moment even better is the way your hand comes up to lightly begin threading your fingers through his still damp hair.

He hums, licking a strip up your body starting from your mid-torso to between your breasts. Gently, he nuzzles against your chest, nose brushing against your skin as he moves to settle his face into the side of your neck.

“There isn’t a part of you that has not captivated me from the very first glance,” he whispers lowly against your skin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I’m sorry that it has taken me this long to be able to fully appreciate you, Darling.”

You’re sure he can feel the way your heart stutters from his words alone, feeling him smile against the skin of your neck.

You swallow the sudden dryness in your throat. “Shall we move this to the bed?”

This time, there is no mistaking the way he smiles as he pulls back to stare lovingly into your eyes. “I would love nothing more.”

Grasping your hand in his, he leads you out of the bathroom. His towel has long since fallen from his hips, and you take the time to admire his broad backside as he walks back out into the main area of the room.

To the side, your dress hangs. Not a single spec of blood can be seen, juxtaposed to the black suit jacket which had dripped a lethargic pool of red onto the floor.

“You know,” you hum, drawing his attention to you once more as your eyes shine playfully, “my husband’s got a nice ass.”

The corners of his lips quirk upwards slowly, mirth dancing in his orbs as he helps you settle onto the bed. “It matches my wife’s perfect one.”

You slap his arm lightly as he craws over you, grins dancing on both of your features. 

“Jongin!”

You swear the male above you flinches, but before you can say anything, his forehead pressing against your own draws your attention.

“I would prefer if you didn’t call me that tonight, Darling.” His voice is but a quiet whisper upon your ears.

You blink, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. This isn’t the first time he’s wanted you to call him something else in the bedroom, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. “Then, what would you like me to call you tonight, Baby?”

He takes a moment before he answers, and you cannot tell if it’s in hesitation, or if he actually has to think about it.

“My Love.” He finally seems to settle on a response. “I want you to call me yours. Your one and only. Your love.”

You smile softly, fingers back to threading through his hair. “I can do that.”

The way his eyes light up in excitement makes you chuckle fondly.

“As long as you do the same for me.” 

You can feel the way his semi-erect cock twitches against the skin of your thigh from your words.

“I would love nothing more.” His voice is breathless, the deepest of affections shining within his gaze.

“Oh?” You quirk a brow at this, a teasing lilt to your tone. “And here I was thinking I’d have to beg you for it like the last time.”

He tilts his head slightly, amusement dancing on his features. Though, you swear you see his eyebrow twitch.

“I thought you didn’t like using those types of endearments in the bedroom?” Your expression is nothing but playful as your fingers still in his hair.

“Changed man, remember?” He grins, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead. “I said I would take care of you, and that’s exactly what I intend to do. In every and any way imaginable.”

“I suppose so,” you hum, pulling him closer into you.

“Now, My Love,” he stares deeply into your eyes as he licks his lips, gaze darting down to your own briefly, “may I kiss you?”

Once more, your heart swells inside of your chest, a pleasant warmth flooding your veins. You nod your head, “You may.”

His lips are on your own without another thought, pouring everything he is into the kiss. His one hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb stroking tenderly against your skin as he slowly grinds himself into you. The way you moan into his mouth makes his head spin.

Reluctantly, he parts from your lips, trailing his own back down your neck. Lightly, he nips at your skin, sucking gently until he finds that one spot that has you moaning for him again. Once he finds it, he cannot help but smile, laving his tongue over your flesh before suckling at the spot eagerly.

Sensually, he places open mouthed kisses all along your collarbones and down your chest. His hands hold onto your waist firmly, grounding him to you and the beautiful reality before him. His thumbs barely ghost along the undersides of your breasts, yet still, he waits for your permission.

The moment you nod, practically begging him with your eyes to touch you, his hands are on your breasts. Eagerly, he palms the tender flesh, giving them each an appreciative squeeze as he trails more open mouthed kisses between them. His thumbs move to trace over your pert nipples, circling them gently as he moans against your skin.

“So beautiful,” he trails kisses over the swell of your one breast, tongue darting out to trace over the same path shortly after. He gives them another appreciative squeeze. “So soft.”

Carefully, his mouth envelopes your one nipple, sucking eagerly at the pert bud. His tongue flicks over your skin, moaning around you as he feels you arch into his touch.

He can never get enough.

Reluctantly, he parts from you only to languidly trail open mouthed kisses to your other breast. Of course, he makes sure to give your other nipple the same amount of attention, rolling the one he’s just parted from slowly between his thumb and index finger.

“My Love,” the blissful sigh you breathe out has him twitching against you once more, his heart stuttering inside of his chest.

He moans, grinding his hips into your own and letting you feel every inch of his hard cock pressed against you.

Your breath hitches, tossing your head back as your eyes flutter shut.

“Do you feel that, My Love?” His voice is low, airy as he continues to nip at the tender skin of your breast all the while. “Do you feel how hard you make me? How hard you always make me, even just from the thought of you? You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Baby,” your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer into you. “Kiss me.”

Who is he to deny the one he loves?

In an instant, his lips are back on your own. Tenderly, his tongue caresses yours, holding you close as he continues to grind himself into you. The movement of his hips are almost synonymous with the movement of his tongue, sensually meeting yours every time.

Each sound you make, every reaction you give him, he absolutely revels in. The fact that he is the one to elicit such sinful sounds, such beautiful reactions from you, has a warmth unlike any other flooding his chest. Still, his head spins and his heart races, hands continuing to explore your body eagerly, yet sensually at the same time.

The moment he feels you wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him in closer, he nearly comes on the spot. Only, the feeling of you pushing on his chest halts his every move.

“What are you doing?” His brow furrows as he pulls away the slightest bit to look at you.

“This is usually around the time where you tell me to suck you off, is it not?” You blink up at him, brow furrowing in mild confusion. “Do you not want me to?”

He practically stares down at you, dumbfounded. A moment later, he’s blinking quite rapidly, as if coming back to the reality before him.

“I thought I told you that tonight is all about you,” he can tell that his answer catches you off guard, for now, you are the one staring at him in mild shock. “Besides, I’d rather see you falling apart on my tongue.”

You blink at him a few times, as if in a daze. “You want to eat me out?”

“More than anything,” he practically pants out his answer, chest heaving as he slowly begins to descend your body. His eyes are dark, locked on your face as he places wet, open mouthed kisses against your skin the whole while. Once he’s settled between your legs, he licks his lips, hands eagerly spreading you open for him as his fingers dig into the skin of your thighs. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dying for a taste.”

Your breath hitches, and your thighs twitch, feeling yourself clench around nothing from his words alone. A movement which you know he picks up on, for you can see the way his lips tug upwards smugly as his dark eyes dart to your core.

“I thought-“ you blink your surprise away, “I thought you didn’t like giving head?”

He licks his lips, pulling you in closer as he meets your gaze.

“I lied.”

The second those words escape him, his lips are on you, and the way your whole body shudders does not go unnoticed by him. He smirks, hearing you sigh in pleasure.

A loud moan falls from him as his tongue drags through your wet folds, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Gently, he laves his entire mouth over your pussy, sucking eagerly at your essence all the while. Each movement of his tongue is precise, parting your folds only to flick at your swollen clit in the next moment. He is shameless, and messy, slurping at your wetness as he pulls you closer into him.

The whole time, he never breaks eye contact with you. The heat from his gaze travels straight to your core, and you cannot help the way you clench around his tongue as he circles your lower lips. You can feel the tips of his fingers digging into your skin, holding you down as his nails prick your hips. A sensation unlike anything you’ve felt with him before.

His plump lips kiss over your clit, the ghost of his touch sending little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. Not even a moment later, he wraps them around that pert little bud, suckling as he flicks his tongue over you once more.

You cannot help it. Your one hand moves to tangle in his hair, hips shifting against his mouth with his every movement. Your eyes flutter shut, breathless moans escaping you as the wet sounds of his mouth fully devouring you reach your ears. He seems to be enjoying this even more than you are, and you can feel yourself clenching just from that thought alone.

“So fucking sweet, Baby,” he moans directly over your core, the vibrations sending pleasant tingles up your spine. “Best I’ll ever have.” Something within his eyes flash. “Only one I’ll ever need.”

A moan of his name nearly escapes you, but you catch yourself just in time. The last time you disobeyed his wishes in the bedroom, he left you high and dry for weeks. The last thing you want is for him to stop now. Not when he’s finally eating you out like you’ve always dreamed about. Just like you’ve always wanted him to. Especially not when he’s getting this lost in your pussy.

“Fuck, My Love, just like that,” you sigh, nothing but bliss pulling at your features as you tug him in closer by his hair.

He moans, tongue lapping eagerly at your juices which continuously flow from you like the sweetest nectar he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. He never wants this to end, becoming addicted to the desperate way your hips grind against his mouth, seeking more of him.

His grip tightens, moans bordering on low growls as his dark eyes consume every reaction you give him. Slowly, he begins grinding himself down on the mattress, seeking any sort of friction to relieve the aching of his hard cock. Seeing you like this, and knowing you’re seconds away from falling apart because of him and him alone has his head spinning. 

He wouldn’t want it any other way.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, feeling the way your essence begins to drip down his chin as he becomes drunk on you. His arms are wrapped around your legs, thighs tossed over his shoulders as he pulls you in closer. His grip is desperate, as if you might disappear from him at any moment, only emphasized by the eager way he sucks your clit back between his lips. Not even a second later, he’s shaking his head lightly from side to side, mouth eagerly consuming every drop you have to offer him.

“Fuck yes- just like that,” your voice is airy, lips parting as your moans begin to increase in pitch. Your eyes squeeze shut in bliss. “Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop!”

The deepest of browns gaze at you with nothing but tender love and affection, pleading you with his eyes to fall apart. He’s just as desperate as you are, moaning against you unabashedly with each movement of his lips. Every flick of his tongue is precise, focussing all his attention to your clit now, and begging you to come for him, even without saying it.

His one hand reaches up to intertwine your fingers of your free hand with his own. Gently, he squeezes them, reassuring you that he’s right here, and that you can let yourself go. He needs to see you fall apart for him. Because of him. Him, and only him.

Not even ten seconds later, you do.

Your thighs tremble as your back arches off of the bed, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm crashes into you. A loud moan escapes you, hands subconsciously tightening their holds on him for support as your entire body thrums with pleasure. The euphoric sensation is unlike anything that you’ve felt before, and you can feel yourself rhythmically clenching around nothing as you come down from your high.

Languidly, he hums between your legs, loving how he can feel them continuing to shake around his head as he laps gently at your cunt. No drop is to go to waste, needing to clean up the mess he’s made of you, and making sure he does so well. Only when he begins to feel you lightly pushing his head away from your quivering entrance does he pull away from you.

He meets your gaze, a primal sort of lust shining within his own as he licks his lips.

“Goddamn addictive, you know that?” He places tender kisses onto the skin of your inner thigh, nipping lightly at the sensitive flesh all the while. “I have half the mind to tell you to sit on my face right this very second so I can continue getting lost in this beautiful pussy of yours, Darling.”

The way you clench from his words alone does not go unnoticed by him.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, My Love?” The grin that pulls at his lips, still shining with your essence, is nothing short of feral. “Smothering me with your dripping cunt so I have no choice but to give you the loving you deserve.”

Your chest heaves with each breath, your eyes searching his own as your lips remain parted. “You’ve been holding out on me this whole goddamn time? Who knew you were this desperate for my pussy.”

“I’m always desperate for you, My Love. In any and every way possible.” He hums, kissing his way back up your body until he can nuzzle his face back into the side of your neck, nipping at the shell of your ear. “I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to show you.”

“You’re showing me now, and that’s all that matters.” You bring a hand up to cup his cheek tenderly, noticing how he immediately leans into your touch.

“I’m here now, and you never have to worry about anything ever again.” His eyes flutter shut, a content sigh escaping him. A moment later, he’s turned his head, placing a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand. His eyes open, and your breath hitches as the darkness you can see swirling within. “Now, let me love you like you’ve always deserved.”

His lips are on yours in an instant, sensually moving against you as he shifts his hips to fully settle between your legs. Naturally, your thighs part to offer him unrestricted access, soft hums falling from you as you pull him in closer. You part only to begin trailing your own lips down his neck, biting and suckling on his skin as his breathing deepens.

“Baby,” the soft drawl from your lips catches his attention, “you’ve already done so much for me tonight. Won’t you let me love you, too?”

A guttural groan escapes him, head falling forward so that his forehead rests against yours.

“Lay on your back, Baby,” your hands slide tenderly down his spine as you move to flip your positions. “Just relax, and let me take care of you.”

The way his honeyed locks look splayed out on the pillow accentuate his golden features beautifully. His warm, brown eyes reflect nothing but awe and love as he stares up at you, his lips parting with every breath that falls from them.

“I thought-“

“Shh,” you bring a finger to his lips, your own tugging upwards in a sultry grin, “This is still about me. Only now, I wish to please my husband just as he has pleased me.”

A shudder wracks his entire body, a moan tumbling from his lips at your words.

You smile.

Gently, your fingers begin to dance along the skin of his chest, nails teasingly raking down his torso as you sit above him. Just as he did with you, you begin placing kisses all over his tanned skin, biting your marks for all to see.

“You’re so handsome, Baby,” your tongue comes out to soothe over a particularly harsh bite you’ve just given him. Not that he seems to mind from the way he’s keening beneath you. “Always looking as if you were sculpted by the gods, and all just for me.”

You feel his cock twitch beneath you as he moans shamelessly, “Just for you.”

Slowly, your hands trail up his sides, feeling the way he shivers beneath your touch. At the same time, you begin to grind yourself down onto his aching cock, hearing how he moans for you as you do so.

Without wasting another moment, you take his hard cock into your hand, pumping him a few times as you line him up with your entrance. You tease him, dragging the head through your wet folds a few times before you purposely grind the tip against your clit. The way his fingers dig into your skin says it all.

“Please, Darling,” his chest heaves with every breath, barely able to hold himself together, “Don’t tease me like that.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards, beginning to sink yourself down on his cock. Still, you cannot help but to tease him, sliding yourself a few inches down, only to lift yourself back off of him shortly after. Each time you do this, you sink lower and lower, noticing how his gaze rests transfixed on the space where your two bodies meet. His breathing comes in jagged pants, clinging onto you for dear life.

Finally, you decide he’s had enough teasing for now, and you slide all the way down. The way he feels fully sheathed inside of you has moans falling from both of your lips, your warm walls pulsing around him almost in time with his heartbeat.

Did he suddenly get bigger? The stretch you’re so used too feels the slightest bit different, as if his cock is even thicker than you remember. Perhaps he’s just that hard.

The feeling of his thumbs stroking lightly over the skin of your thighs grounds you back to the reality before you. His touch is nothing short of tender, and you cannot help the way your heart races from that fact alone.

“Are you okay, Darling?” There’s nothing but deep affection shining within his gaze as he look up at you in awe.

You nod your head. “Are you okay, My Love?”

“Never better.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides as you feel him throbbing within you. “You can move whenever you’re ready, Darling.”

The only response he gets from you is the twitching of your lips upwards before your hips are shifting against his own.

His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head for the second time tonight, his fingers pressing desperately into your skin. The feeling of your warm cunt sucking him in, your essence dripping down his shaft and onto his skin makes his head spin.

He did this to you. Only he can make you feel this way, and for that, he could not be prouder than he is in this very moment. Only he knows how to please you in such intimate, intricate ways. Ways he’s only every dreamed about.

Finally, all of his wishes are coming true.

He meets your gaze.

“I love you.” His voice is breathless, his own touch gentle on your hips as he helps to guide your movements over him. “I love you so fucking much.”

Again, you smile, humming to yourself as you look down at him in adoration. “I know.”

“Do you-“ he swallows thickly, “Do you love me, too?”

Your expression softens, slowing your pace for the moment. “You know that I do.”

“Say it.” His words are a near whimper on his lips. “Please, My Love, I need to hear you say it.”

“Baby-“

“Say you love me.” His grip tightens, almost desperately on your hips. “Even if it’s just for tonight. Please, say you love me.”

You cup his face in your hands, leaning over him as you stare deeply into his eyes.

“I am so in love with you, Baby.” You breathe out, stilling above him. “And I don’t think I could ever stop.”

“I never want you to stop.” His hands begin to creep up your back, pulling you flush against him.

“Then, I won’t.” You hum, placing a kiss right above his racing heart.

“Please, My Love,” he whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut as he fights off his tears for the time being. “Say it again.”

Immediately, you comply. “I love you, Baby.”

He flips your positions, sensually grinding his hips into yours as he moans lowly.

“One more-” He pleads, voice catching in his throat. He rest his forehead against your own as his one hand comes up to intertwine with yours. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

Slowly, his hips roll into your own, letting you feel every inch of his cock pressing against your walls with every movement he makes. He’s in no rush, wanting to savour this moment, this feeling here with you for as long as he can. This is everything that he’s ever wanted, and so much more. Finally, he gets to experience it with you.

After all, everything that he is, everything that he does, is for you.

Blissful sighs escape you with each movement of his hips, only emphasized by the way he grinds himself into you each time he’s fully sheathed inside of you once more. His one hand holds onto your own desperately, fingers interlaced with yours as he presses his body against you in every way that he knows how.

A single touch isn’t enough, he needs to feel all of you. A simple glance is too fleeting, he needs to have your attention focussed only on him at all times.

“Look at me, Baby,” his deep voice draws your gaze to his own. “Keep your eyes on me.”

A choked whimper escapes you, your free hand desperately clawing at his back to draw him in closer to you. 

The feeling of your nails raking over his shoulders is a sensation unlike any other, and it has him twitching inside of you yet again. He can never get enough of you. Nothing will ever be enough. Not when it comes to you.

“You’re so pretty,” he nips lightly at your jawline, thrusts becoming the slightest bit sharper as he continues to grind himself into you. “So pretty spread out beneath me, letting me take care of you like this.”

A gasp escapes your lips as the head of his cock brushes against such a tender spot within you.

“Oh? Is that it?” He shifts his hips, angling his cock to grind against that spot once more. The way you keen into him, walls clenching involuntarily around him has a smile tugging at his features. “Am I making you feel good, Baby?”

“So good,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he continues to sensually roll his hips into yours. Your breath hitches, “Yes, just like that.”

Softly, he begins to press kisses against your skin, tongue soothing over everywhere he can as he claims you in every way he knows how.

“So beautiful for me,” he hums. “Letting me take care of you like this.”

He can tell there’s a word beginning to form on your lips, but you bite them to keep it from spilling out. He bites down the slightest bit harder on your neck, thrusts increasing in pace as he desperately needs to hear you say it.

“Go on, My Love,” he encourages lowly. “Let it out. Let it all out.”

A desperate moan escapes you, pulling him closer. “Mine.”

His hips stutter against your own, a deep, guttural groan escaping him as his brow furrows. His heart feels as if it’s about to beat right out of his chest, grip growing all the more tighter on your body.

“Yours, Baby.” His head falls against your own as he snaps his hips into your own a little more sharply now. “All yours, and I always will be.”

Your breath hitches at that, and he notices you staring at him with wide, glossy eyes.

“Am I-“ your voice is small, innocent, as if suddenly uncertain of yourself. “Am I yours?”

His heart swells inside of his chest, a loving smile pulling at his features.

“Forever, Baby.” He kisses you, pouring everything he is into the movement of his lips against your own. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own. “You will always be mine.”

This time, it’s you who pulls him down for a kiss. The way your tongues move against one another is desperate, moaning into each other’s mouths as he begins to pick up his pace.

His hips snap into your own, adjusting his position slightly so that he can bring his free hand down between your bodies to begin flicking at your clit.

Your eyes fall shut, head being tossed back as a low whine escapes your throat. Your thighs begin to twitch around his waist, holding him desperately to you he kisses you like his life depends on it. Which, to him, it does.

Gently, his thumb circles over that sensitive little nub, feeling your walls beginning to spasm around him in time with his thrusts. You can tell that you’re getting close, that familiar tightening building within your abdomen with every move that he makes.

“Oh, fuck- just like that, Baby,” you whimper against him, clinging to him for dear life. “Don’t stop- you’re gonna make me-“

A desperate keen escapes your lips as your whole body stills. Not even a moment later, your entire form trembles in his embrace, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm washes over you. Whimpers and whines continuously escape you as he helps you ride you through your high. He holds you as close as he possibly can, feeling your walls clenching around him, squeezing him so sinfully as his hips begin to stutter.

Not even a moment later, he stills inside of you, releasing deep into your warmth as he moans your name. He can feel his cock twitching inside of you, lazily thrusting a few more times before grinding his hips into your own.

Every movement, every touch, you both are sensitive to, breaths mingling as you attempt to heave air into your lungs. A second later, and he’s collapsing on top of you, his skin sticking to yours as he holds you close. 

Gently, you begin to card your fingers of your free hand through his hair.

“So good to me,” you hum lightly. “So, so good to me.”

“Only for you, Darling.” He places a tender kiss onto the skin of your chest. “Only for you.”

“I love you, Baby.” You manage to catch his gaze, watching as it shines with nothing but adoration for you.

“I love you.” He breathes, finding enough strength to lift himself up in order to kiss you deeply once more.

Slowly, he pulls himself out of you, the both of you whining at the loss of contact. Almost immediately, he goes to wrap you in his arms, but you standing from the bed draws his attention.

“Where are you going?” He pouts, following your figure as you retreat back to the bathroom.

“To pee, what does it look like I’m doing, silly.” You giggle. “I don’t want to get another UTI like the last time.”

The way his brow furrows slightly has you giggling once more as you disappear into the bathroom. Not even two minutes later, you’re reappearing, a damp cloth held in your hand.

He looks at you curiously, “Shouldn’t I be doing that for you?”

You nearly snort out a laugh. “When have you ever done that for me?”

His gaze is nothing but soft as he watches you clean him up, your touch soothing against his heated skin. The care you extend towards him makes his heart swell, and he cannot help but fall deeper for you in that very moment.

Just as you return to the bathroom to disposed of the cloth, he moves to open the mini-fridge. Pulling two bottles of water out, he immediately hands one to you once you return to him.

“Drink.” A firm nod is sent your way at the skeptical look you shoot him.

Wordlessly, you obey, sitting back on the edge of the bed after pulling the covers back. Once you’ve had your fill of water, you’re placing the bottle onto the bedside table, right beside your phone.

A warmth at your back has you sparing a glance at the male behind you from over your shoulder. His hands lightly trail over your shoulders, rubbing tenderly against your skin as he places gentle kisses against the side of your neck.

“Are you okay, My Love?” His voice is low, so as not to disturb the quaint moment between the both of you. “Sore anywhere? Stiff? Tender?” He hums, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “I could give you a massage if you want?”

You blink, caught off guard by his inquiry. Normally, it’s you who has to give him a massage after sex, not the opposite way around. The fact that he even offered has your heart racing pleasantly inside of your chest.

“I’m alright,” you place a loving hand over his arm, of which settles over the skin of your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Are you okay?”

You take the time to face him now, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Never better.” He smiles, cupping your face gently in his one hand. “Lay with me for a while, yeah?”

You mirror his expression, lips pulling upwards tenderly as you nod.

A moment later, the two of you are laying yourselves beneath the sheets, your head resting over his chest as he holds you close. His one hand holds your own, fingers intertwined as his other strokes calmly over your spine.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask him after a few minutes of silence. “You’ve been acting different all night.”

“Have I?” He hums, almost knowingly. “Maybe I’ve just realized that I never appreciated the love of my life like she’s always deserved. You are everything to me, Darling, and I hope you never forget that.”

“You’ve been smooth talking all night. Since when have you been known to enjoy all of this ‘lovey-dovey, romantic crap’ as you’ve so put it before?” You quirk a brow at him, shifting your gaze to look up at his face.

“But you like it, do you not?” He hums, hand continuing to stroke tenderly over your spine.

“I do.” You hum in confirmation. “But when have you ever been known to do things like this for me?”

He remains silent, and you believe he’s actually contemplating your words. A surprising fact, considering he would normally scoff and retort with something like, ‘I always do things for you.’

Your heart warms for the moment, choosing to revel in his embrace and the way he doesn’t seem to fight you on this. It’s quite refreshing, and you wish it could be like this all of the time, but you know that by tomorrow, he’ll probably be back to his regular self.

You sigh, somewhat wistfully.

“What is it?” He hums, sparing a glance down at you resting in his arms.

“No retort, and you’re actually listening to me and my desires for once?” You reply, somewhat blissfully. “I wish you were always like this.”

“Like what, My Love?” There he goes with that term of endearment you’ve always been fond of. A term which he never really used to enjoy before tonight, it seems.

“My perfect lover.” 

You swear that this night is too good to be true. A sentiment that is unknowingly shared by the male that holds you even tighter while laying in bed with you. Yet, for you both, neither of you particularly want this night to end.

With that thought, you allow yourself to fall asleep, succumbing to the darkness pulling you deeper into an unconscious abyss. Besides, you’ll probably wake up in the morning to this having all been a dream. A beautiful, blissful dream which has fulfilled all of your deepest desires.

Morning comes, and instead of waking from the dream like you thought, you are awoken to the sound of your phone buzzing on the side table. Groggily, you blink the sleep from your eyes, bringing your hands up to rub them in the next moment. 

You can feel a weight pressing against your back, and when you turn your head, you see the sleeping face of your lover staring back at you. His arms are wrapped securely around your waist, as if he’s afraid you might disappear at a moment’s notice.

You must have shifted your positions overnight, you turning onto your side with him following right behind, even unknowingly. Still, it takes you a good minute to wiggle out of his embrace, hearing him groan in annoyance as he turns onto his back. Luckily, he appears to stay inside of the realm of dreams, even as your phone begins to vibrate with a call once more.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you grab the device. One look at the screen and your eyes are going wide, standing from the mattress as you answer the call.

“Hello?” Your voice is still rough from sleep, that much you can tell, even as you speak into the receiver.

“Finally! We’ve been attempting to contact you all morning!” Quincy can be heard through the speaker as you quickly toss on some pants and a shirt. “We have an emergency.”

“What’s going on?” Your brow furrows, mind focusing more on the scenery around you finally.

“We found a body this morning.” She states.

“Yes, Don Vanderleen has been dealt with as of last night.” You confirm, wondering where this is all going.

Nothing could have prepared you for the next words out of her mouth.

“No, it’s not just his body.” Quincy sighs pointedly. “We found Jongin’s body. Well, what’s left of it.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

“As your superior, I would never lie to you over these types of matters.” She states, rather firmly.

“That’s impossible, because I’m staring at him right now.” You reply, tone a bit harsh at being woken up with something like this. “You must have found Kai’s body instead.”

“Genetics confirms that it was Jongin’s body.” She sighs. “I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you.”

Your heart leaps into your throat unpleasantly, seeing the male on the bed beginning to rouse the longer that you’re on the phone.

“No,” you shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re wrong.”

A tremendous sigh is heard on the other end of the phone. “There was no mole on the back of his neck. I would send you the photos forensics took, but I fear it may be too soon for you to see.”

“This can’t be happening.” You mumble, running a hand over your head desperately.

“I’m sorry.” Quincy sighs once more. “I’ll call you again when I have more details. As his wife, I thought you should be the first to know.”

Without waiting for a response, she hangs up, and you are force to watch who you assume to be your husband finally awaken to the world around him.

The male sits up, rubbing lightly at his eyes. Slowly, he lets his arms fall back to the bed, blinking the remaining sleep from his vision. You notice his gaze darts slightly around the room, brow furrowing in minor confusion before he turns his attention to you standing in the corner. As soon as he sees you, his eyes are widening ever so slightly before a smile of almost pleasant disbelief is painting his features.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

It seems as if he thought all of last night had been a dream, too.

“Good morning, Darling-“

“How dare you call me that.” Your voice is low as the first of your tears begin to trail down the side of your cheeks.

Immediately, worry crosses his features, the male shifting to move closer to you and comfort you in any way he can.

“Don’t come any closer!” You raise a hand, halting him right in his tracks.

“Baby, what’s gotten into you?” His eyebrows furrow, nothing but concern shining in his eyes. Eyes which plead desperately for you to tell him what’s going on.

You swallow thickly. There’s only one way you know to prove that Quincy spoke true.

“Turn around.” You keep your voice low, hoping beyond anything that it remains steady for the moment. “I want to see the mole on the back of your neck.”

His whole body tenses slightly, but you do not fail to catch it this time.

“What are you talking about? You know I don’t have a mole on the back of my neck.” He chuckles, somewhat nervously.

“Then, you should have no problem showing me.” Comes your blunt reply.

“Baby, what has you so paranoid?” He searches your face. “Do you not trust me?”

He shifts off of the bed, pulling on the closest pair of pants he can find as he stands.

“I got a call.” You state, and he glances down at your phone held in your hand. “They found a body.”

His gaze darts back up to your own.

“A dead body.” Your whole body begins to tremble.

He blinks.

“It’s your brother.”

He remains silent, and you swear you can hear a pin drop with how still you both have gone.

He swallows, “I told you that I couldn’t find him when I went up to the roof.”

Your shoulders seemingly relax the slightest bit when he says this.

Cautiously, he takes a step closer.

“A lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours,” he speaks to you calmly, as if attempting to calm you even further from the edge. “Why don’t we just take it easy, yeah? Take a deep breath, and then we can handle this together.”

Softly, you begin to nod your head, seemingly dropping your guard for the moment as your shoulders slouch.

“I suppose you’re right,” you sigh, clutching onto your phone as a lifeline as you step closer to him, resting just at the foot of the bed. “Let’s just stay together, and watch the sunrise.”

You see his brow furrow slightly in confusion, and your heart drops.

“But the sun’s already up, My Love.” He offers you a somewhat perplexed smile.

“Oh,” you chuckle, but you know that it’s quite stiff. “I suppose you’re right.”

In the next moment, you reach for him, appearing to seek his touch just as he does the same to you. Only, you’ve been planning this since the second he stepped out of bed.

A blink, and you have him pinned on his stomach, his one arm trapped beneath his body while you pull the other one behind his back. Your touch is nowhere near as gentle as it was last night as you shove his head into the mattress, pushing the ends of his golden locks upwards to reveal what you’ve been dreading since you got the call.

There, resting just below his hairline, resides a small mole, practically glaring back up at you in the light of the morning sun.

As if the code he botched wasn’t enough, this just proves it.

Your breathing deepens, chest heaving with every stuttering inhale you take as the harshness of reality sinks in around you. Suddenly, the room is thick with tension. So much so, that it weighs on your shoulders, suffocating you with every beat of your frantic heart.

You push yourself off of him, shaking your head as more tears fall from your eyes.

“No,” you back yourself against the wall as you watch him push himself up from the bed with a disappointed sigh. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your heart feels as if someone has reached inside and torn it from your chest, the betrayal you feel coming through as clear as day on your face.

“Darling-“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” You shriek, eyes blazing with an unbridled fury. “You- you-“ you push yourself as far against the wall as you can, your voice breaking as you attempt to find words, “you made me believe you were him.”

A deadly silence washes over the both of you.

“I should have known,” you scoff, a sort of sadness taking over your features. “I should have known it was too good to be true. He’s never listened to me like that. He’s never loved me like that.”

Kai’s jaw twitches in irritation, watching you break down in front of him like this.

“The entire night,” you laugh bitterly, “the entire night he was missing, probably already dead. Yet here I was, fucking his brother.” Your expression drops, horror painting your features. “I fucking cheated on my dead husband with his brother. I- I-“ You meet his gaze, breath hitching in your throat as you realize something. “Why did you let me believe that you were him?”

He remains silent, lips pursed into a thin line.

“Why?” You shout, tears streaming down your face.

“He could never love you the way that I could.” Kai’s voice is low as he replies, watching your every move carefully. “He’s never loved you in the way you deserved.”

“That’s bullshit!” You spit. “Who are you to decide who can and can’t love me? Who are you to decide what kind of love I deserve?”

“He’s never deserved you, period.” He keeps his tone steady, but you can hear the restrained anger he holds back for the moment.

“And you do?” You counter, incredulously.

“I loved you first!” His one hand slams over his heart, nails biting into the skin of his bare chest. “I wanted you first. He only wanted you to prove I could never have you; to take you away from me. He never loved you, he only loved knowing he had something else over me. The only thing I’ve ever wanted. The only person I’ve ever loved.”

Your eyes catch on that gold band wrapped around his one finger.

Pure dread washes over you as realization sinks in. Your blood runs cold.

“How did you get that ring?”

Kai notices your gaze locked on his hand, and he pulls it away only to gaze down lovingly at the metal adoring his finger.

“It belonged to me before he stole it.” He replies, somewhat bitterly. At your skeptical look, he’s quick to continue, “Yes, your loving husband took this set of rings from me to propose to you with. After I had told him of my intentions of doing the exact same thing. Only, he got to them first.”

“So, you had two sets.” You voice, attempting to wrap your head around this new information.

“Oh, no, Darling,” he shakes his head, the corner of his lips tugging upwards maniacally. “Just the one.”

Your brow furrows, until morbid realization paints your features. “You killed him.”

“He didn’t deserve to live.” Comes his blunt reply. “Not after everything he’s done. Not after everything he’s put you through.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide.”

“Wasn’t it, though?” Kai hums, tilting his head mockingly. “He couldn’t protect you properly. I saw what that bastard did to you last night. Do you really think Jongin would have done anything about it? No. Instead, he pulled you on top of himself when the bullets started flying to protect himself. He never cared about you, because no matter how much attention you could give him, it would never be enough. You were never enough for him.”

“He pulled me on top of him because I said I didn’t want any of that man’s vile blood to touch me.” Your voice is low, like the approach of an oncoming storm. “You are so jealous of your brother, you continuously make up false claims just to tarnish his name. You never saw how he treated me behind closed doors. You don’t know what our relationship was like.”

“Really? Because I certainly learned enough last night.” Comes his pointed retort. “He was a fucking selfish lover, wasn’t he? Always putting his pleasure first over your own. He used you in every way he could to get himself off, both physically and emotionally, yet you’re still too blind to see it!”

“Don’t pretend to know what he was like.” You snap, arms crossing over your chest. “At least he never made me believe he was someone he was not.”

“You’re the one who assumed I was him.”

“You’re the one that went along with it!” You counter, your chest heaving as you swear your heart might collapse at any moment from the suffocating feeling of pain that surrounds it. “Now, I’ll have to live my entire life knowing I slept with my husband’s murderer on the night he was killed. I cheated on my dead husband!”

With each word, your voice rises. You’re almost hysterical at this point, beginning to pace while laughing insanely the whole while.

“You want to get mad at me for killing someone as vile as him?” Kai’s nostrils flare. “I killed him before he could kill me. It was self defence! Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like Shinobu or Nancy were that lucky.”

“Are you seriously implying that my husband was the one who killed Nancy and Shinobu?” You reply incredulously, eyes going wide in disbelief.

“He told me himself that he killed any further doubts you might have about him last night.” Kai states, somewhat matter of factly.

“And I’m supposed to believe you?” You scoff, shaking your head.

“I would never lie to you.” There is nothing but honesty dripping from both his tone and his gaze, and you hate how you actually do believe him.

“Yet, you made me believe you were your brother.” Your voice isn’t as firm as before, your tears slowing, too.

“You said it yourself last night,” he meets your gaze, eyes flashing, “I am your perfect lover.”

“You’re despicable,” you spit, noticing how he slowly begins to creep towards you now.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you begin to angle yourself away from him. Only, he’s faster, pinning you to the wall as he rests his forehead against your own.

“Every night could be like the last when you’re with me. No, it will be.” He breathes, pressing himself right up against you despite your best efforts to shove him off of you. “You know I can treat you right, Darling. I think I’ve more than proved myself to you. I have always wanted you. I have always loved you. With me, you’d never have to question that again.”

You hands come up to rest on his chest, keeping him distanced from you as much as you can.

“You’ve betrayed me, Kai.” Your voice is but a mere whisper on your lips, the devastation clear on your features. “I can never forgive that.”

“That’s bullshit!” He pushes himself off of the wall, anger pulling at his features. “You can’t forgive me, but you can continue to love a man who continuously cheated on you, and could never love you in the ways that you’ve always deserved?”

“Jongin never cheated on me, Kai.” You state lowly. “Your brother was a lot of things, but cheater he was not. Not after he knew what happened with my parents.”

The male before you remains silent.

“You knew what happened with my parents, how they didn’t know the meaning of loyalty. You know how I feel about cheaters, and you purposely led me to believe you were my husband just so you could fuck me.” You slowly begin backing away from him again, leading yourself towards the hallway that will lead out of the room. Your phone begins buzzing in your hand. “How do you think that looks to me, Kai? You say you love me, but would someone in love do something as unforgivable as that to the one they claim to love?”

“I do love you.” His tone is firm, taking a step forward as tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

“No,” you shake your head, finally having reached the bedside table. “You don’t love me. You want to own me.”

His breath hitches, the first of his tears beginning to trail openly down his cheeks.

“I have always loved you.” He repeats his words from earlier, a bit more desperately this time. “Last night-“

“Last night was you manipulating me into getting what you’ve always wanted from me.” You say. “You want to make Jongin out to be the bad guy when you’re the worst one!”

“I only want to love you!” His fist slams against the wall beside him in frustration before he begins tugging desperately at his hair. “Can you not see that?”

“I cannot love a man like you, Kai.” You shake your head, feeling your phone begin vibrating once more in your hand. “I never can, and I never will."

Something within his eyes flash, and he goes so still, you swear that he’s stopped breathing.

“You don’t mean that,” he starts to hyperventilate, his eyes crazed as he begins clawing at his face. “You- you- you need me like I need you! You said you loved me! You said I was yours!”

“I said I loved my husband, Kai.” Your voice is firm as you meet his devastated, tearstained face. “Not you.”

“No!” He lunges, managing to knock your phone out of your hands as he wraps his arms around you. You both go tumbling to the floor. Desperately, he clings to you, sobbing into your neck. “You can’t leave me! I love you! I did this for you. For us!”

“Kai, let me go.” You attempt to push him off of you, but he doesn’t relent his hold on you even in the slightest.

“No.” He begins to shake his head. “I- I’ll make you love me. You’ll see!”

“Kai, this isn’t an opportunity for you to change my mind.” You, again, attempt to shove him off of you to no avail.

“I don’t need to change your mind,” he starts to nod, as if he’s convincing himself more so than you, now. “I’ve already proved it to you. You felt it, didn’t you? You felt my love last night. You wouldn’t call me your perfect lover otherwise.”

You can tell he’s no longer talking to you, but reasoning with himself. The more he speaks, the more he seems to believe, calming himself down with each word that he says.

A knock at the door breaks his train of thought. He stiffens.

“Don’t answer that.”

Another knock, more frantic than the first sounds.

You attempt to break free from his grasp once more, only for him to pull you firmly back into his arms each time.

“You’re not going anywhere, Darling.” His voice is low, suddenly much more ominous than only moments before. “I won’t let you leave me.”

You still, heart stuttering as a fear unlike ever before floods your veins. If he can kill his own brother, there’s no telling what he might do to you.

A call of your name from a familiar voice outside the door draws your attention.

“Are you in there?”

It’s Quincy.

Just as you open your mouth to respond, Kai slaps a hand over your lips.

“Shh,” he keeps his voice low right by your ear, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine. “Wouldn’t want the big boss lady to disturb the happy couple, now, would we?”

You shake your head, deciding to play along with his games for the moment. You’d rather stay alive than upset him further and truly set him off. He already seems incredibly unhinged, and there’s no telling what he might do.

Another knock sounds.

Slowly, Kai beings to lower his hand, trusting that you won’t act out.

Only, you know better.

A loud yelp escapes him as you bite down on his hand quite harshly. This causes him to loosen his hold on you, and you managing to scramble free after elbowing him in the chest. Rolling away from him, you’re quick to fling open the closet door right beside you, seeing as you wouldn’t have enough time to stand and open the door to the room. Luckily, you know where you’ve stashed all the guns, and the closest one now rests in your hands as you stand back to your feet.

“I’m inside, Quincy.” You call over your shoulder, watching as Kai slowly stands to his feet with his arms raised beside him. You cock the gun. “Kai’s gone mad.”

You hear a low curse come from behind the slab of wood behind you, some shuffling occurring as she whispers order too low to make out.

“Please, Darling,” he expression falls. “Don’t do this. You know I can make you so happy.”

“Take off that ring.” Your eyes briefly dart to his hand, that metal band glinting almost mockingly at you now. “Besides, I thought I told you not to call me that.”

“And I thought I told you that these rings are mine.” His eyes flash. “Ours.”

Your nostrils flare. “Fine then.”

Shifting your hand, you begin to slide your own wedding band off of your finger. Except, Kai takes advantage of your movements, lunging towards you while you’re distracted. He manages to wrestle the gun from your hands as you go tumbling to the ground. You scramble onto your back, hands supporting you as you look at the man you thought you could trust.

The gun is now pointed at your head, tears streaming down his face as he gazes down at you with nothing but sorrow on his features.

“Don’t make me do this.” He nearly chokes on a sob.

You can hear some scratching at the door. The slow, telltale movements of someone picking the lock.

“I’m not making you do anything, Kai.” You shake your head. “You did it all yourself.”

“Please,” he begs, hand trembling as that barrel stares you down. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You can’t lose what you’ve never had, Kai.” You reply lowly.

His expression falls, and you notice his hand has stopped shaking.

“Fine then.” He swallows thickly, as if steeling himself for what he’s about to do.

You hear the click of the lock falling out of place.

“If I can’t have you,” his eyes are crazed, wild as he meets your own, “No one can.”

The sound of the door swinging open is synonymous with the gunshot that echoes throughout the room. The second shot is quick to follow, a body falling limply to the floor.

[the-storyteller-and-her-soldiers]

Origins

Title: Orgins Word Count: 2,033 Warnings: Some cursing and mentions of violence! Nothing graphic but be safe! (Also maybe some OOCness, I tried tho!) Ship: Mainly this is a Spider-Siblings fic (my new tag for when I'm with the group) but some allusions to 'A Different Web to Weave' (Miguel x myself) Summary: Rebecca finally sits down to explain her origin story over lunch.

"Wait, so you never did tell us," Miles spoke as he and his friends bobbed and weaved through the crowded hallways of the Hub towards the cafeteria.

The one leading the group was the smallest out of all of them. Her vibrant amethyst hair bounced with each step she took. Out of the group and all of the passersby, the girl stood out like a sore thumb, her only attire being a black satin sundress. But the smile on her face, as she turned her heel and stumbled to face Miles, spoke volumes in her view.

"I never told you, guys, what exactly? How I got Mr. Scary to crack a smile?"

Her tone was coy but the way her smile spread across her face revealed that she had an idea to what they may have meant. The teens rolled their eyes but Rebecca could hear their low chortles and silent breath of laughter.

"Yeah! I mean, no, tell me that another time." Miles pleaded as she stepped forward to fall in line with her own forward-facing steps again. "You never told us how you began to don your mask!"

"You mean the mask I basically never wear?" Rebecca laughed as her hand glided across the table that they so often sat at.

"I still don't understand how that works..." Pavitr murmured thoughtfully as he slid into his seat.

Rebecca only shrugged as she plopped down into her usual spot to claim it. "My dimension's logic? Either that or magical girl logic! But gimme a sec."

Rebecca then got up and took a mental note of everyone's orders before she skipped off to get it. After a lunch line wait and a wobbly trip back, Rebecca slid everything to everyone before dropping her body back onto her stool. Her friends were quite familiar with the sickening sweet shakes she loved but were curious to see her with actual food in her tray.

"Empanadas? Tryna piss off the 'big boss'?" Hobie asked with a quirked brow.

Rebecca smiled as she went to wrap the napkins she brought over the scalding breaded pastries. "As disappointed as you may be, I got these for him. The guy hasn't eaten and that's not good for anyone, trust me!"

"You're too sweet to him. Why bother?"

"Eh, someone needs to keep peace in the Spider-Verse. I'm just doing my part! Besides, I think he may actually tolerate me now!" Rebecca said with her smile causing her eyes to crinkle.

The others in the friend group and a few nosy eavesdroppers stared at her in disbelief. On one hand, they all knew how turbulent the pair was when Rebecca had first gotten involved with Spider Society. But on the other, in more recent times, they had seen her perform what they could only describe as miracles in regard to their ruthless leader. Some of them even thought that the recluse would have her head if he heard her speak as though they were mere acquaintances.

But before anyone could dwell on the subject, Rebecca threw down some light novels. No one could call them comics but they weren't traditional manga either. All of them had Rebecca in a new cute outfit and a different pose per issue. "Okay this is not the last time, but as odd as it'll sound, it's all for real! Here we go!"

My name is Rebecca Grace Rozenaria! I'm a twenty-one-year-old part-time student, part-time retail worker, and the sister of Earth-9612's Spider-Man.

"Take that as you will," Rebecca wistfully mused as her fingers lingered on the panel where a man in typical red and blue colors swung through the city.

"Wait... you're the sister of Spider-Man?" Gwen asked as she brought her drink to her lips.

Rebecca nodded as she drew her hand away. "Yup, Zachary Parker's his name."

"But then what's with the different last name?" Miles questioned, leaning across the table to examine the art.

"Half-siblings, same mom but different dads. Something he'd remind me of so much when we were younger... Anyways! You've all heard of being bitten by a radioactive spider, right? That's what happened to you all and my brother."

I have a different take though! When I was nineteen, my two friends and I were messing around in an abandoned building a few towns from my own. My one friend, Ren, had been hearing about some odd events after an old sword went missing and felt drawn to check it out. My other friend and I went with because one) I'm always down for an adventure. Two) A lot of Security Bots from Alchemax have been going rogue and it's best not to be alone when that happens.

"Wait, what year are you in?!" Gwen questioned now, the way her piercing glimmered in the light brought Rebecca out of her thoughts.

"2023, my dear. But the difference I think is that Alchemax isn't just a chemical lab in my universe. It's a household name that seems to mask a privately owned military-based company, at least that's what I've been able to dig up." Rebecca spoke of this as she sipped her cotton candy shake, acting as if this was just some weekly high school drama she heard in the showers.

"How'd you manage that?"

"I've got contacts! It pays to be sweet and harmless. ...Maybe that's why each branch wanted to recruit me after high school. That or they're more desperate than an ex-partner." Rebecca smiled with another sip.

Once again, the others could only eat the food as they hung to her every word.

Anyway, my friend Ren had discovered an old rite or something that may calm down the area's weirdness so as college kids do, we tried it. Nothing happened at first, and honestly, we were going to write it off as a night of fun. But then the wall fell away revealing a blinding gold light. I honestly thought that we had reached the heavens!

Rebecca then flipped a few pages until she found the centerpiece. The picture displayed the glowing hole in the 4 story building and the silhouette of a towering male drider. Her pale fingers tapped the silhouette's head repeatedly as she leaned in.

That's what I thought anyway, but I'm pretty sure angels of ANY type aren't LITERAL spider people. Angels also don't go hunting as far as I know. Regardless, this towering being growled that killing us at that moment would be boring. So he demanded that one of us become worthy prey. Both of my friends have such promising futures, so I stepped forward. This being and I made a pact. He'd give me some power to harness as I saw fit, but at the end of the day, I am his hunt.

Rebecca laid her left wrist across the pile and turned it to reveal faint puncture marks in her veins. The others all leaned in trying to wrap their heads around the story. Their thoughts rushed to explain this as a normal bite from some uncommon animal, but then they remembered where they sat.

Unbelievable, I know. To this day, even after more run-ins with him and everything I've seen and done, I wouldn't buy it if I wasn't there. My own brother didn't and... that got him killed.

Rebecca's eyes fell to her lap as her voice faded and her lips tightened. After a few shakey breaths, she flipped her hand over to turn through the pages.

Remember how I said some security bots often went rogue? Well, at a party, another 'virus' broke lose in them and they were desperate to gain vengence on their captors. The only problem is that they tend to view any bio-organism as such. So they were on a rampage and I went in to save who I could, so did my brother. We were doing fine on our own, until he saw me. He demanded I run, that I shouldn't be here, that I was of no use here, but there were still so many. I tried to listen but I saw one coming at him and I out-maneuvered it. I told him this wasn't the time to argue but he seemed pissed! He started going off that I couldn't 'outdo' him and I 'always had to be better than him.' I tried to reason with him saying he could lash out later once we were safe but he didn't get that chance.

Once again, Rebecca flipped the page and revealed the gruesome scene from her memories.

While he was raving and fighting, he got even more pissed whenever I tried to help him. So as I turned to go help evacuate people, a machine plunged it's arm... Right. Through. His. Chest...

Once again Rebecca tightened her lips. But now, her chest shuddered as she took a deep breath. She took a moment to blink back tears while the others reached out to comfort her. Despite this, she only offered a sad smile of reply as she rubbed the back of her hands against her wet eyes.

I-I'll spare you the details as I still have nightmares and don't need you lovelies getting them... But the machines had gotten what they wanted. I wasn't strong enough o-or fast enough to save him... Maybe me being there or me listening IS what got him killed...

The others wanted to speak up, to retort with the soothing words that she often shared with them. But all that cut through the air was a sorrowful silence.

Maybe this was all just meant to happen... I don't know... But as much of an ass as he was, he still was my brother... So after that and weaving the story that he died protecting his helpless, handicapped sister to my family... I donned the figuritve mask, wanting to leave his legacy intact. But you know when people see spider powers, they think we're all cut from the same cloth. So I became commonly known as Spider-Girl. And now I fight for the truly helpless as a hero and civilain so that I can help those from living the same fate I have...

Another silence hung in the air, creeping down like an arachnid would on their silken string.

"That's quite the story there..." Miles finally breathed.

"It's so similar, but still..." Gwen continued, her blue eyes flickering from the splayed pages to the lilac lady before her.

Hobie bit the inside of his lip while Pavitr slowly rubbed Rebecca's back unsure of what to say.

Rebecca sighed before granting them another smile. "Sorry to end that on a somber note! I'm still working on making it less depressing! Any tips?"

The group only shook their heads.

"I'll work on it then, and leave my friend Ace to tell you about the time-loop arc." Rebecca said with a breath of laughter.

"Time-loop arc?!" The group wondered in near unison

"That's how Miguel found out my existence and let me tell you he was not happy, speaking of which--" Rebecca glanced down at the doughy treat before her and patting it gently, "These are now perfect eating temperature so Mr. O'Hangry won't burn himself! So let me deliever 'em!"

Miles stood up, making his way to block the smaller woman from leaving. "Vaguely mentioning Spider-Demons I get... kinda, but time-loops! You can't just mention that and wander off like it's nothing!"

Rebecca used the slight flail of his arms to stumble past him. "Yes, I can~! If you want to know so badly, ask Miguel! But before I go, I wanna remind you all that you never have be alone, alright? If you need me, I'm here!"

"But for now," Rebecca called as she stumbled back from them, "see ya~!"

With that, the lilac lady went skipping off to the parts of Spider Society that few dared to willingly go. As the rest of the group scanned over Rebecca's light novels and ate, Gwen mused to herself.

"Just your friendly, neighborhood, antithesis. Am I right?"

It was only as the group continued to eat and look at the books did they realize Rebecca hadn't taken their lunch money and sneakily treated them. They'd get their answers and their payback next time...

Taglist: @floweringforgetfulness @goldenworldsabound @maskedanarchy-ships @disneymarina @canongf @hadesgoddess @nyandereneko @singingdeepinme @violetsandmilk @cydanite

[alfy196]

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[fierypen37]

An Acquired Taste

moodboard by @libradoodle1​

An Acquired Taste

 The Night’s Watch was slammed tonight. There were three things northerners loved in boisterous, unabashed fashion: ale, rugby, and hockey. Tonight, the Winterfell Wolves had crushed the Casterly Rock Reds in Game Five of the Torrhen Cup Final four to nothing. The Wolves had been on a cold streak, and the cup hadn’t been theirs in thirty years. When they won, northerners poured out in droves to celebrate. Jon, Tormund, Gendry, and the new barback Satin hustled around the bar. Tom and Marya in the kitchen were slammed too.

While as an owner, Jon was pleased there were so many customers, the bartender in him hated the unending roll of rude, greedy patrons. The air was thick with the heat of crammed bodies, smelling of sweat, the sharp whiff of alcohol and cooking oil. Gods, it was hot. His black t-shirt clung to him, sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Jon irritably blew a strand of hair from his eyes as he leaned over the bar to hear the soft-voiced girl’s order.

“--our,” she shouted.

“What?” Jon shouted back.

“Amaretto sour!” she repeated.

“Lemon lime soda ok?” he said. She nodded eagerly. A plain girl, she wore a well-loved Winterfell Wolves jersey, her hair caked with dye half white, half grey. The look was one he was used to, half admiration, half invitation. Jon kept his smile polite.

“Comin’ up!”  Jon scanned the crowd as he found the square amaretto bottle without looking down. Drinks slid across the bar with machine-like regularity. Billiard balls clacked. The radio blared some top forty song that Jon didn’t know. Jon nudged Gendry.

“Don’t overserve,” he said in his ear. Baratheons thought if you didn’t feel the burn in your throat, it wasn’t a proper drink—and Gendry was no different, even though he’d never met his deadbeat dad. Gendry nodded, measuring the vodka he was pouring more precisely. The din of so many voices were punctuated here and there by a burst of laughter, or angry words. The latter made Jon nervous. From the corner of his eye, he saw Theon and his brothers shoulder in, neutralizing an argument. Theon’s older brother Rodrik leaned over the bar.

“I’ll expect a free drink as acting bouncer!” he said with his long, toothy smile. Jon flipped him a rude gesture, to which Rodrik laughed. I really do need to hire a bouncer for nights like this. Without missing a beat, he poured, adding the sweet and sour mix. He jiggled the jug. Shit, they were almost out.

“Satin! Get more sweet and sour mix from the back!” Jon called over the racket. Ice, topped with a splash of soda, garnish with a cherry. Jon slid the drink to the girl on a black napkin with a nod. Another guy wanted a beer—draft, garnish with a slice of orange. Another a whiskey—ice, pour. Another woman wanted a gin and tonic—gin, ice, top with tonic water, stir, garnish with lime. Another, another, another. The pace slackened to a bit of a lull.  

“I’m taking five,” Jon shouted to Tormund over the din. Tormund nodded.  

Weaving through the crowd out the side door, Jon sucked in a grateful breath of cold, clean air. Ears ringing from the noise, the silence was just as sweet as the cold air. He wished passionately for a cigarette. The urge was always there, even after quitting two years ago. Jon took a long draught of water from his reusable bottle. Dany had used her fancy water infuser to make mint-lemon water for him. It tasted delicious. He sucked down gulps of it. Reaching for his phone, he tapped out a question. Can you fly?

The back-and-forth of learning the extent of her abilities was surprisingly fun. Hypnosis, speed, strength, enhanced senses, immortality. Pretty fucking awesome. No mind-reading, though, and she didn’t need an invitation to enter a home. Three dots danced on the screen.

Of course I can fly

WHAT??? Really?

I have a pilot’s license 😊

             Jon smiled at his phone. Dany had been generous to the point of desperate in the week since she’d confessed. In bed and out. As flattering as it was, Jon reassured her it wasn’t necessary. He was glad a semblance of their usual easy humor had returned. In fact, it was almost like he could sense her smile. Bummer she couldn’t shapeshift into a bat or a raven though. If Jon could have a superpower, he would have chosen shapeshifting. I miss you, he typed. Dany kept the details of her ‘work trip’ vague—code for hunting. Jon wondered what it was like to be her prey. That smooth, liquid gait, her ethereal colors kissed by moonlight, her cool hands clamped tight around his throat, the sharp sting of her fangs—

“Fuck,” Jon said. There was that gut flip of terror and excitement . . . and he was hard as brass. How about that. He had a biting kink? Who knew?

I miss you too The dots danced.

Are you ok? Jon frowned, scanning the previous messages for why she was concerned. Heat flushed his cheeks at the thought of her being privy to his musings. She promised she wasn’t able to read his mind, but sometimes she made him wonder.  

The bar’s fucking slammed, but I’m fine Jon glanced at the time on his phone. His five was up about three minutes ago.

Hydrate. I’ll be home in morning Jon was at a loss with how to reply, so he settled on a thumb’s up emoticon.

He waded through the throngs back to the bar. Damn, there was nothing but slushy water in the ice bucket. Wet, wrinkled napkins littered the bartop. Liquor bottles strewn on the workspace.

“The fuck is this mess, Tormund? I’m gone for five godsdamned minutes and it all goes to shit,” he said, shoving bottles back in their places. He shouted at Satin for more ice and napkins. The rush had slackened. People had their drinks and were munching on cheese fries, or playing pool, or reliving the high points of the game on replay. Tormund grinned sidelong at him, mopping the bartop with a rag.

“When’s Dany getting back?” he asked. Jon’s irritation mellowed at the joke. He grinned.

“Early tomorrow.”

“Thank the gods,” Tormund said.

They had time to reorganize before patrons finished their drinks. A second wave broke. Another, another, another. Close this tab, cut this guy off before he’s too pissed, shout for Satin to fetch more ice, tell this kid off for flashing a fake ID, diffuse an argument. Announce last call. A seemingly unending roll of closed tabs. Wads of damp cash. Swipe, swipe, swipe. Tormund’s booming voice ushering the last rowdy patrons out. Jon’s ears rang in the sudden silence.

“Good work, everyone. Tips are divided even, remember,” Jon said. Gendry and Tormund settled into their usual post-close tasks. Satin took initiative and began flipping barstools.

“Satin, we need to clean everything before we set up the chairs,” Jon said, coughing to clear hoarseness from his voice. Satin blushed prettily, dark curls bobbing as he nodded.

“Sure, boss. I’ll get right on it,” he said.

It was almost four in the morning before Jon was satisfied with the state of the Night’s Watch.

“Get some rest. We’re taking tonight off,” Jon said. The take was good—really good. He could afford closing for a night to give his employees a day off. There was a couple hoots and applause. Jon waved it off.

“We’ve earned it. I’ll lock up.”

The walk home passed in a fog. Ghost greeted him with a thump of his tail, but otherwise did not stir. Dany had taken him on a long run before she left for her ‘work trip.’ Jon shuffled up the stairs and collapsed facedown on his bed, toeing off his boots. He snuffled into his pillow. He could smell Dany: notes of apples and jasmine shampoo and another note he couldn’t place, but knew was hers. Jon hummed, breathing deeply of the smell and was comforted by it. Sleep took him.

Ghost’s cold nose woke him.

“Off, Ghost,” Jon croaked, his mouth dry and mossy. He blinked into the dimness of his room, realizing he was straight in the bed and tucked in the sheet and cover. Dany. Jon smiled, touched by the tender gesture. He groped for his phone on the bedside table—it was dead. Dimly, he heard the homey clatter of dishes and the hiss of a pan. Dany was downstairs cooking. Jon roused himself from the warm comfort of his bed to tiptoe on socked feet to the shower. He felt more human (what a pun) once he showered with his teeth brushed. Some spice filled the air, along with the scent of sizzling meat. Jon’s mouth watered. He pulled on sweatpants and headed down.  

“Smells delicious,” Jon said as he descended the stairs. Ghost clattered down at his heels.

“About time you’re awake, you lazy sod!” Arya said. Jon cursed, startled.

“Fucking hells, Arya! What did I say about boundaries?” Jon said. Dany manned the stove, resplendent in a midnight blue sundress, her silver hair in a single braid down her back. Arya stood smirched in flour, dredging chicken cutlets. Arya shrugged.

“Boundaries smoundaries, cuz. I wanted to meet Dany.”

Jon leveled a mock glare at Arya, winding one arm around Dany and kissing the curve of her shoulder.

“‘Mornin,’” he rumbled, watching over her shoulder as she deftly sauteed vegetables and fried the chicken in separate skillets.

“Evening more like, Lord Commander. It’s five o’ clock,” Dany teased, nuzzling a wayward lock of his hair with her nose. Wow, he never got sleep like that. Jon kissed the side of her neck, feeling her subtle shiver. Unbidden came the thought of her biting him and Jon warded off another surge of terror and arousal.

“Eech, no PDA, please. And where’s your shirt?” Arya said with a shudder.

“You don’t want to see it, don’t break in,” Jon shot back, continuing to happily nuzzle Dany’s neck. He couldn’t see her face, but he could sense her smile. There it was again, that weird reflection of her mood. Was it a vampire thing?

“I hope my cousin hasn’t been too obnoxious,” Jon said.

“Not at all, we’ve been chatting. She says she has all the dirt on you,” Dany said, flipping the sizzling cutlets. Jon gulped.

“Dirt?” his voice cracked. It was too damn early for this. Arya’s grin was pure evil.

“Yeah. Like when you were thirteen and got really into seances and shit. I can’t tell you how many times I found him asleep in the godswood.” He felt Dany stiffen. Jon swallowed.

“I guess I’ve always liked supernatural stuff,” he said.

“Or that time my mom walked in on you--”

“Arya, for the love of all the gods, shut up!” Jon thundered. Arya giggled, unrepentant. Jon hugged her roughly.

“Now quit making a mess of that and go set the table,” Jon said.

The meal was excellent: the chicken was crispy and had the perfect balance of salt and spice, the vegetables tender and flavorful. Jon shoveled it down with relish, and wondered how she was such an excellent cook when she didn’t eat. Decades of practice, he supposed. Conversation flowed as easily as the wine, and Jon felt pleasantly tipsy as the three of them sprawled on the couch. Jon lay with his head in Dany’s lap. Her cool fingers carded through his hair in hypnotic strokes, lulling him into a contented stupor. Arya lounged crosswise on the loveseat, swinging her feet.

“I see why Jon wanted to keep you to himself, Dany. Every one of my siblings would question your taste,” she said with her lupine grin.

“I suppose Jon is an acquired taste,” Dany joked, rubbing his arm to soften the words. Jon snorted loudly. Acquired taste?

“Hah! That’s an excellent way to put it!” Arya chortled.

Dany clicked through their streaming services to settle on a show. Arya loved true crime shows, forensics. During her last deployment, Arya’d binged shows and podcasts alike—a potential career once she was discharged from the military. She and Dany debated the pros and cons of various career tracks, the best being the House of Black and White in Braavos. He loved how Dany could speak intelligently on almost any topic. Jon lost interest in the show and watched the colors of the TV wash over Dany’s perfect white skin. Dany grinned at something Arya said, displaying the wet white gleam of her teeth. Fangs.

Arya said her goodbyes after a text from Gendry. Her motorcycle turned over with a roar, and she sped off, short brown hair whipping behind her. Dany rounded on him.

“What is it?” she demanded, with a fierce scowl. Jon sat up from where he lay draped on the porch bench, muddled by wine and drowsing.

“What?” he said. Dany made an irritated sound, jabbing his chest with her fingertip.

“Ow!” Jon said, with a giggle. It tickled more than anything. Dany flattened her lips, fighting a smile.

“You’ve been looking at me strangely all night. Did I say something wrong to Arya? She was already here when I got home,” she said. Jon stood.

“No no, it’s not that. Arya really likes you. She wouldn’t have hung around if she didn’t.” Dany chewed on her lower lip in a very distracting way.

“I just . . . you talk a lot about your cousins, and I wondered why we hadn’t met yet.”

Jon sobered, blinking owlishly. His brain was slow on the uptake. Dany was feeling . . . insecure? That boggled the mind. He scrubbed his chin.

“Dany, my family’s . . . a lot. Since my uncle died, my aunt and one cousin—we don’t speak. They despise me. The rest are normal enough, but ever since the Ygritte Incident, I haven’t brought any girlfriends around.” Not that he’d had a girlfriend since his hellbitch of an ex until Dany.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Scare you off,” he finished lamely. Dany relaxed.

“I’d hoped that I hadn’t . . . ruined it.” By telling you what I am, the last was unspoken, but rang in the air between them all the same.

Jon pulled her into a tight hug. He breathed in the dizzying smell of her hair, apples and something wild he couldn’t place. Insects hummed, a faint chilly breeze stirred the air.

“Of course not. I’ll call Robb tomorrow. We’ll have ‘em all over for a cookout. Full Stark immersion.” Dany nuzzled his neck.

“That sounds nice.”

Dany bumped her forehead gently against his, leveling a narrow violet glare at him. One hand reached down and playfully grabbed a handful of his arse. Jon twined his arms around her with a chuckle. They danced a little on the creaking porch and Jon fancied himself truly happy.

“Is there anything else you’re thinking about?” she asked. Jon squirmed under her direct gaze. The words were on his tongue, but he chickened out.

“I was just thinking . . . has anyone ever . . . enjoyed it? Knowing what you are?” Daenerys’ posture relaxed and Jon inwardly marveled at how much more comfortable she was around him. He noticed when she was too still, too focused, too different. Dany snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Yes. Wealth, power, immortality. It is a potent allure to most. And so very dull.”

It wasn’t at all what he meant, but Jon was too embarrassed and tongue-tied to articulate what he wanted. Jon nodded.

“I can imagine,” he mumbled. No slouch at reading tones, Dany cocked an eyebrow.

“Why do you ask?” she murmured, breathing air-soft little kisses along his shoulder. Jon basked in her easy affection, feeling that weird reflection. Warmth and contentment, as warm as her hug. Better to focus on that than any weird kinks.

“Just . . . curious,” he said. Jon licked his lips.

“It seems like I can . . . sense your mood. Is that normal?”

Dany blinked, peering at his face. She didn’t relinquish her grip on him. No reflection of distress. The feeling chilled from warm contentment to something ambivalent. Confusion, maybe?  

“Really? Um, I’m not sure. It’s never been mutual before.”

“Mutual?”

A muscle fired in her face, almost a wince.

“When I hypnotize my . . . prey, I can sense the tenor of their mood, recent memories. Very superficial, and it ends when I’ve finished feeding.” The halting and clinical way she said it was evidence of her distaste. Each word was extracted slowly and painfully. Yeah, it was weird, but Jon was fascinated by the little details.

“But you’ve never fed from me,” Jon said, hoping the strange connection would convey his mingled disappointment and relief. Dany’s brow forked.

“Or hypnotized me?” Jon asked, with a hint of a question. Would he even know if she had? Dany looked affronted.

“No! Of course not.”

“I was mesmerized all the same,” Jon said, stealing a kiss. Dany softened under the touch. Jon tugged her inside.

 ~

 Psychically linked. It was a phrase that was strange to utter, even for a vampire. Missandei, who had rescued and changed her lover Grey Worm over a hundred years ago, hadn’t known of the phenomenon. For all the weirdness, it was . . . nice. It was like there was Jon-compass in the back of her mind pointing to where he was and how he was feeling. Right now, at eleven in the morning, the itch would guide her back to the house, and the mellow quiet was one of sleep. It was Wednesday. After the Monday night shift and Delivery Day on Tuesday, he was always exhausted.

“There’s something he isn’t telling me, Missy,” she said into her earbuds. Dany yanked a snarl of weeds from the budding green of her garden. There was nothing she loved better than the feeling of earth between her fingers, the rich smells of loam and water and flowers. Dragons plant no trees—one of her brother’s maxims. In this undead life, she strove to prove him wrong. Trees, flowers, herbs and vegetables.

“Tell me the context.”

“Well, he asked if ‘anyone enjoyed it,’” Dany said, framing the operative words in finger quotes even though Missy couldn’t see her. A habit picked up from Jon. She patted the dirt around the tender roots of a cluster of osteopermums. Beautiful blooms, and cold resistant.

“‘If anyone enjoyed it.’ Hmm, and he didn’t mean proximity to one who is rich and powerful. Surely he didn’t mean enjoying being bitten?” Dany stilled at Missy’s words, every cell of her frozen in a rictus of shock. Bitten? Dany replayed the interaction last night when her Jon-compass pealed. A cold zing of fear, along with the familiar ripening of arousal. Could he really . . .? Dany snorted.

“Surely not!”

Dany felt the warning prickle as the sun threatened to break through the blanket of clouds. She blurred back to the porch, irritably watching the sky.

“Anyway, when are you and Grey going to visit? It’s been an epoch.”

The seed Missy planted in Dany’s mind germinated as quickly as the plants she put in the ground. It lingered, following her through the day as she took Ghost to the dog park, bought groceries for Pentoshi spicy noodles, and secretly corrected Jon’s messy ledger. His books were detailed, but a couple alterations to the till would only protect him from audits. Since she’d confessed, she given up the pretense of ‘working,’ and had offered to help Jon with his finances, but he refused. Her wealth languished, accruing interest, ready for when he wanted it.  

Did . . . did Jon want her to bite him? Their sex life was robust, passionate. That hadn’t changed since the revelation. He was the same generous, ravenous lover as before. He had only seen her fangs one time—that one horrible time when she confessed. The thought of broaching the subject made her want to melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

“There you are, beautiful,” Jon said with a sleepy kiss as she washed dirt from her hands in the sink. In his typical fashion, he wore baggy athletic pants and no shirt. She loved Sleepy Jon. Affectionate and moving a little slow. Completely adorable. He had a shift in a few hours, there was time to talk about it. If she had the courage to broach the subject. Dany blurred around the kitchen, fixing his favorite breakfast: toast, scrambled eggs, and avocado.

“Thanks, love,” Jon said, tucking in. Dany settled in the chair across from him, at a loss for how to continue.

“Any news on the reflection thing?” he asked, taking a long gulp of Dany’s infused water—cucumber cilantro this time. Dany loved how messy his curls were when he woke up—sticking up straight like a porcupine’s quills.  Jon scrubbed his beard.

“Missy had never heard anything like that. She was a historian in her previous life, so she is well-versed in the peculiarities of our kind,” she said. Jon blinked, then one of his sunny smiles broke out, stealing her breath in how gorgeous he was. Jon took her hand and squeezed it.

“I guess that means we’re soulmates,” he said. Dany’s unbeating heart fluttered.

“I guess so,” she said, choked.

The meal passed in pleasant silence. Dany plucked up her courage. Just say it!

“Is there anything you want to . . . want to try?” Dany asked. Jon knew what she meant. She watched the bloom of blood beneath his pale skin. The apples of his cheeks, the base of his neck, even in blotches on his naked chest. Intoxicating.

“You noticed that last night, huh?” he said, combing his fingers through his hair. Dany nodded.

“What did you mean by ‘enjoying it?’” she asked.

Jon blush deepened to a deep dusky red. His gaze slid away from hers to inspect the worn wood of his kitchen table as if it held the world’s knowledge. Jon’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Very distracting. Why was this so hard to say? No two lovers instantly knew what their partner liked or wanted—even psychically linked ones. They had had frank conversations about sex before.

“The um . . . the biting part. Has anyone liked it?” Jon mumbled. If she was capable, Dany would have blushed too. There were those humans who craved subjugation, but Daenerys had never interacted with them—even when they threw themselves at her feet. She simply hadn’t been interested. Saliva filled her mouth at the thought of tasting Jon’s blood. Hot, rich and full of life. Hunger quivered through her at the thought, hands curling into fists.

“Yes, some have. I never entertained them,” she hedged. Jon risked a glance at her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

“Do you not like it? When they--”

“Jon, I go through considerable pains to ensure those I drink from do not suffer unnecessarily. But being a vampire . . . yes.  Biting and drinking their blood . . . to my unending shame, I like it. I like it a great deal. And the thought of drinking from you . . .” Dany closed her eyes briefly, trying to master the demon clamoring for a taste. Her cunt throbbed as well, a well-placed touch and she could come just from fantasizing about it—as she never dared to. The heated look in Jon’s eyes was one she well knew, and the moment stretched on in the sweetest of agonies.  

“Ok. Let’s try.”

It took some extracting to tack down the details Jon wanted. Not quite a ‘scene’ per se, but a hint of violence. A vampire bite was by its very nature, violent. The safeword was ‘ghost.’ Dany followed him up the stairs, trembling with anticipation and nerves. Like a giddy virgin all over again. With Jon, so many things felt new, and so right. Jon pulled on an old grey t-shirt and took his place against the exposed brick wall, arms spread as if restrained.

“Like this?” he asked softly.

“Just so,” she whispered.

Daenerys grasped her control and breathed in. Her senses sharpened to painful acuity. She could smell the spicy scent of his skin, his spruce shampoo, a hint of cilantro on his breath. The thud of his heart was swift. She tilted her head, wondering if it was fear or arousal that sped its beat. All those blood vessels dilating, the roused animal heat of him. Dany closed the distance between them in a blink. Jon flinched, eyes wide. So innocent. So beautiful. Ripe for her corruption. Dany grasped his jaw, hard enough to hurt. Dany waited, gauging his reaction. Jon sucked in a gasp. Gods, the tempo of his heart would drive her mad. The heat and woodsy scent of him enveloping her. Heat radiated from his cock, already tenting his athletic pants.

“Mmm, I wonder what makes your heart race, handsome. Fear . . . or excitement?” she drawled, smirking in a manner to expose her fang. Even Jon’s eyes were dilated, only a border of grey around the black. He licked his lips. Dany followed the movement with intense interest.

“I’m . . . I’m not sure,” Jon said. Dany leaned in, bracing her forearm against his chest with a bit of pressure. Pressing him back against the rough brick. Attuned to her Jon-compass, his mood was rich with hunger, whetted sweetly with fear. Dany loosened the tight rein she held on her control. Wildness surged through her. She squeezed her thighs together; the throb of arousal was almost painful. He was so gorgeous like this, vulnerable and hungry, eager and wrecked.

With a negligent move, Dany’s nails shred open Jon’s shirt, then his athletic pants. Tearing it like tissue paper. They hung in tatters, the pants held up by Jon’s glorious arse pressed against the wall. No underwear, his cock stood at attention.

“Yessss. Hard for me? You’re perfect,” Dany whispered. Jon squirmed a little at the praise and Dany logged that away for future reference. He hissed in a breath through his teeth as Dany traced one finger down his broad chest and hard, quivering belly to grasp his cock. Dany tilted his captive jaw to one side and leaned close . . . Jon cried out, his hands scrabbling on the brick wall. She pumped his cock, spreading around the silky fluid weeping from the head. The panting silence broken only by those slick strokes. The echo of his heartbeat thudded against her palm with each stroke. Dany licked his earlobe.

“Let me taste you.”

Dany bit down on his neck. His sleek white skin gave way and the hot, metallic richness of his blood sang on her tongue. That first taste called down one of the most intense orgasms of her life, completely untouched. She shuddered through it. Pleasure burst like fireworks behind her eyes, and she was intensely aware of Jon’s matching orgasm. Hot seed spraying in sticky drops on her hand and forearm, the musky smell. Jon roared, arms snapping tight around her as he thrust helplessly into her hand. Dany drank from him, not pausing to moan lest she waste a single drop. Magic. He tasted of magic and wilderness, pleasure and home. If any god would listen, she would have begged to live in this moment. Sacred with his trust and love, incandescent with pleasure.

I love you

The words were not spoken, but flooded through the link between them.

 ~

 “More!” Jon begged, clinging to Dany. Her tongue lapped at the wound in his neck, lazy strokes that made him shiver and his cock throb. Despite the best orgasm he’d ever had, Jon throbbed back to full hardness.

“Please, Dany. More. More!” the words fell out, unbidden and needy. Dany guided him down to the floor and tore off her clothes. The cloth and denim shredded to ribbons. She looked like an otherworldly creature: hair a wild snarl from his tugging, her lips were vivid red, painted with his blood, violet eyes glowing. Gods, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, shredding her clothes so she could fuck him. The inner reflection had become a door—a door thrown open and washing him in the glory of her soul. Her loneliness and longing, her love and pleasure. Dany . . . Dany.

Dany crouched over him to lap at his neck and slid down on his cock. The fresh sensation made him cry out again. Jon fisted a hand in her hair, holding her to his neck as the tender lapping turned to a sharper suction. The pain was a whisper compared to the pleasure of her cunt riding his cock. Warm and so wet, gliding up and down. Jon’s back bowed up, seeking more contact. He was saturated in her. The smooth cool touch of her skin, the tickle of her hair, wild, appley smell of her, the musk of her sex. There was a cooling tickle of his blood down his neck. The hot point of contact of her cunt milking him as she came again. Her pleasure called down his own and howled through another orgasm. Her name punched out of him with each stroke, his ardent prayer.

“Dany. Dany. Dany. Dany!” I love you I need you, don’t leave me I love you It was a stream of thought pouring into her. The answer was instant: I love you I need you you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine forever!  The pace quickened, short, fast strokes. Jon screamed as the pleasure pierced him as surely as her fangs. Come poured out of him with each spasm. She was there joined with him—the tide of pleasure crested over them both. Dany cradled his head to keep it from thudding against the floor.

Jon floated, cruising on waves of bliss. Pleasure so excruciating he couldn’t think, pain so sweet he felt tears leak out of his eyes. A noise somewhere far away. Jon held tighter to Dany. The noise again, louder. Dany tugged the turf of his hair, pain a delicate prickle. He moaned, eager for more. Anything to please her. Look at me, love. Jon blinked. Dany’s beautiful face was above him, thick brows puckered in a frown.

“Jon, are you ok?” she asked, framing his face between her hands. Her whole world. Jon’s heart fluttered.

“Yes,” he said fervently. Jon was hoarse and limp, thoroughly fucked out. He’d never come that hard—much less three times in rapid succession. Sex with Dany had always been white hot, but discovering his ‘biting kink’ had taken it to a new level. Jon tugged her closer, missing the press of her weight. Vaguely he was aware of the hard floor, and a stickiness from fluids . . . oh! Jon stirred himself.

“I better get up, I don’t want to bleed all over the floor.”

Jon sat up, gingerly touching his neck. The skin was smooth, unbroken. Dany smiled, her fangs winking in the light.

“I took care of it. Vampire blood has restorative properties.”

“Oh,” Jon said, shuffling to the bathroom and cleaning up before returning to lay next to Dany in bed. He would’ve liked to keep the scar. Maybe next time. Already arousal stirred at the thought of next time. Jon winced, kneading away a cramp in his thigh.

We’ll have to pace ourselves. Hydrate and stretch, definitely. They drowsed together in silence, but even with his nose in her hair and his eyes shut, he could see the worried pucker on her face.

“What is it, love?” he asked.

Dany peered up at him, chewing on her lower lip.

“It wasn’t too much? You’re ok?” she asked. Jon kissed her, slow and lingering, tasting the metallic tang of his own blood.

“Never better.”

[zankivich]

An Unexpected Romance: Chris Evans x Black! Female Reader Part 1

a/n: *sticks head out* omg hi. It’s been a while. A long while. Somehow I am back writing for another white man, a different one this time. We can only hope he does not disappoint as drastically as the last one does. I genuinely have no idea if this is good? I think it’s kinda cute, and I’ve been feeling very traumatized in regards to blackness lately so I really needed some black and brown women having a good time and being happy. We deserve that tbh. There could obvi be another part to this. Let me know if anyone even cares enough for that lol. Okay bye now. 

Part 2 Part 3

There’s an unspoken rule amongst you and your friends. Like a secret code, if you will. If a man hits on you at the bar and you’re not interested, and friends always know when you’re not interested, swarm and diffuse the situation. But? If a man hits on you at the bar and you are interested? Then that is a different story entirely.

It was a Thursday night out with the girls. You were at your favorite bar. It was quiet and quaint but still modern enough to attract a younger crowd. Sometimes there’s nothing better than getting dressed up and sipping on drinks with your girls. No dancing or club hopping or excessive uber rides. Just one bar, shit talk, and a lot of bacardi.

You were all sat directly at the bar in high standing chairs, Your back was turned to the entrance as you listened intently to your friend Tanya complain about her latest Hinge hook up.

“Can you believe I took my fine ass self all the way over to that nigga’s house in satin shorts? Satin! And he had a pizza box on his bedside table and the second he laid me down my back hit a bong. Make it make sense Jesus.”

Tanya was a beautiful Black woman. She was taller than all of you at six feet, and she strutted every step. Her skin was deep espresso and she was almost always rocking a vibrant colored wig that matched a vibrant colored outfit. Tonight’s color was lavender.

“I don’t know how many times we have to tell ya ass to stay away from them white boys.” You snorted, sticking your tongue out in search of your straw.

Your friends, Tanya, Raya, and Jesse all did a collective eye roll in your direction that did not go unnoticed.

“Yes ladies?” You asked with a straightened spine and arched brow.

Jesse was one of them girls you would have hated in high school. Skinny waist, slim thick thighs, and skin so clear that her Puertio Rican skin was only left to dazzle and shine. She had long, tight curls that hung all the way down to her belly button, and she always kept them gelled down and tied back. She, like all of your friends, did not hold back when it came to the group. You were honest, thick as thieves, and frankly a little brutal.

“You don’t even count. Your refusal to go near a white man is excessive and weird.” She cackled. “You're just as bad as Tanya, just on the other end of the spectrum sis.”

“Excuse me? Now Tanya dates boys...I date men. You see the difference? And if I am gone lie in some ivory sheets there’s gonna have to be some extra special attention being paid to me. And trust, there always is.”

You stuck your tongue out lewdly and laughed sending the whole table into a fit of giggles. You all clinked your glasses together and revelled in the atmosphere of melanin, acceptance, and tomfoolery. What a group.

“You tellin’ me that if a fine ass man walked in here right now and checked every box: his own money, his own car, intelligent, funny, etcetera,  and he just happened to be of the vanilla variety you wouldn’t bite?” Raya asked.

Raya was the thickest of the group, voluptuous in every sense of the word and also the only one happily married. She just put up with y’all honestly.

You rolled your eyes through with the conversation already.

“I’m saying...he’d have to be pretty fucking special and pretty fucking dedicated. Men are a headache as it is. I don’t need the added layer of some man pulling at my weave like I’m Lilly Ane from his hometown,  or asking me to do race play in the bedroom. Now I’m going to the bathroom and when I come back I’d like for us to talk about literally anything else? Okay? Okay.”

You slid out of your seat and headed for the bathroom with the grace and power of a woman in her thirties who had managed the insecurities of her younger self and had decided to only live her life revelling in her own excellence.

If Tayna was the darkest of the group you weren't at all far behind. If she was expresso, you were simply an americano with a dash of cream. And you rocked it with a full head of curls that ranged from nappy to bursting with life and moisture depending on both the day and temperature. It was all set upon the shoulders of a woman with curves and hips and chest. It was your body and you loved it endlessly, a matter quite evident in the way you walked.

That night you were wearing a coral pink jumpsuit with a long, flowy kimono and heels to match. Your kimono billowed behind you and made you feel fierce, even on the walk to the bathroom, which is perhaps why you weren’t paying that much attention. One second you’re strutting in the heels that you only wore when there wouldn’t be too much standing, and the next you’re slipping on some liquid that must have been spilt on the floor. Your whole life flashed before your eyes. The wind flew out of your lungs. This was the end…

And then you were caught by the waist. Not caught, more like gripped. Firmly. And perhaps not the waist so much as the hips. You expected to be lying straight on the floor staring up at the ceiling, and instead you were staring at a chest. A firm chest. No not firm. Chiseled might be a better description. So chiseled that your hands began to wander amongst the suit clad flesh before your mind had caught up with you. Heafer.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much. I’m so sorry I can’t believe I--”

You peered up into deep blue eyes and let’s not forget that your fingers were still wandering along that chest. Had a chest ever been so broad? No. Not unless you count Captain America apparently.

“Please, I always like to pull a rescue mission before dinner. Makes me feel like I earned my meal.” He grinned down at you.

Chris Evans. What are even the statistical chances? You wouldn’t know, you were too busy drooling.

His hands were still on your hips. Yours still on his chest. And now you were just plain staring at him. Good look.

A waiter with a towel to clean up the mess broke up the moment by clearing their throat and alerting the two of you that you were way too close to one another still.

“Oh--Oh.” You mumbled idiotically. “You’re…”

He nodded. “Chris. And you are?”

“I’m...I’m…”

The waiter snickered under their breath and you realized just how much you were ruining this moment. You straightened your spine and tried to act like you had some sort of sense.

“I’m y/n. Thank you again for the save. I was actually just on my way to the bathroom so I’ll uh let you get back to your night and try not to fall on you again.” You smiled.

“Yea, we definitely wouldn’t want that would we?” He asked.

But the way his face was looking told you maybe he might not mind it after all. Sheesh.

“Okay well uh you have a nice night, Chris.”

You tapped at his hands on your hips and he quickly stumbled back with an apology. It was the first time he looked even the slightest bit flustered in your interaction with him. You found that you liked it.

“You have a nice night too, y/n.”

You smiled at him one final time before walking to the bathroom as you had intended. But he didn't leave your mind the entire time you were there. And not just because it was Chris Evans, it didn’t feel fair to call it star struck. That was too simple, too miniscule.  Instead it was the way his hands had felt on your hips. You had the tendency to lean away from men, didn’t feel comfortable with them when you didn't know who they were. And yet there you had stood, completely at ease in his hold. You couldn’t explain it even to yourself. He had just felt right.

“Of course he felt right, he’s practically a figment of your imagination.” You mumbled to yourself at the sinks.

That was it. He didn’t even count. The only time you ever saw him was on your netflix account, so surely your perception was warped. The reality was that Chris Evans was just another white man who looked good in a sweater. The end.

That’s what you convinced yourself as you walked back to your friend, but not without taking extra precautions against the floor. By the time you arrived back at your table you had done the mental gymnastics needed to completely eliminate him from your system. Good girl.

“Now, I trust you all found something better to talk about while I was away.” You grinned as you slid back into the table.

All of your friends were snickering behind their hands and they wasted no time at all laughing at you.

“Oh did we!” Jesse laughed. “You see we had just moved on to a new topic when a little someone got a drink delivered to the table.”

Your eyes widened as Jesse pushed a glass of what looked like processo closer your way. She then pointed over by the bar leading the entire table to turn that way. Seated by his seat with his arms leaning against the bar, shoulders even broader against the wood, was none other than Chris Evans himself. As if on a Hollywood cue he turned to look at you with a smile that was both innocent and filthy at the same time. He lifted a drink of his own in the air and tilted it in your direction in silent cheers. If you had been ten shades lighter you’da blushed like a schoolgirl. It was ridiculous.

“Now...What was that you were saying about white boys sis?” Tanya asked.

You groaned to yourself softly and plopped your head down in your hands in embarrassment. This was only to notice that your sparkling glass of prosecco was perched upon a napkin with his phone number written upon it. Home boy was slick and he was bold. A man confident enough to come put himself out there, and respectful enough to do it in a way that wasn’t disruptive or rude to your friends nor yourself. It was the sort of thing that made you take notice for sure, which explained why your girlfriends were looking at you like cats that had just discovered the canary.

“What? What?! What?” You gasped at the table, clearly annoyed.

Jesse grinned. “What’chu mean ‘what’, mija! You gone get your mans or what?”

They all giggled and looked clearly in his direction, only embarrassing you further.

“Stop it!” You hissed. “He is not ‘my mans’ by any stretch of the imagination. He probably just feels bad for me slipping. I fell and he caught me. Clearly he’s a gentleman, which is nice but that don’t mean nothin.”

“Girl please! This man done sent you prosecco and a phone number. That’s like a rich modern version of a love letter. You better go talk to that man.” Raya snorted.

Women who hype up other women are the world’s greatest treasure. You loved your friends with everything in you, and you valued all of their intellects greatly. However, this was not a regular-degular man. This was literally a superhero. You had confidence for days, but this was simply a different stratosphere. You were just about to silence your friends again when a ghost must have descended because everyone else began to gasp.

“Girl he movin’. Captain America is comin in for the landing.” Raya stage-whispered.

“Oooo you know what? Suddenly I have to pee.” Tanya mumbled.

“Oh me too!” Jesse nodded.

And just like that….your table was empty. The audacity!

“Wow. I sure can clear a room huh?” He chuckled, stepping up beside you. “I hope I don’t offend too much.”

You sighed turning to face him head on.

“You certainly do not offend. In fact, I think my friends are around some corner cackling like the witches they are. They just wanted to give you space to shoot your shot.”

He smiled with a raised eyebrow. “My shot, huh? I better not fuck it up them.”

You shrugged, eyes raking gently over him. Beyond the obvious attraction, it was important for you to search for any warning signs. His body language was good. He had one hand draped over the back of your chair, but he stood two steps back from the table so that he wasn’t over-crowding your space. He seemed to be aware of himself physically, an important marker in your estimation. He was playful enough, but also clearly interested if he’d decided to come up to the table after all that. This did not bode well for you at all. The man was kinda nice.

“I just wanted to see if you were enjoying your drink is all.”

Your fingers flitted with the glass before pulling it to your lips for a sip. The way his eyes seemed to follow the motion had a heat pooling in your gut.

“I do enjoy a good prosecco.” You nodded. “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure. I didn’t want to be too forward but uh--I think you’re stunning and  I was wondering if I could take you out sometime.” He murmured.

Your legs were crossed in your seat, and you bobbed your leg a little, anxiety coursing through you.

“Were you afraid the number on the napkin was too subtle?”

He chuckled softly, eyes falling to the ground in an almost...embarrassed fashion? Lord, please.

“Sorry, I tend to second guess myself. I never know how people are gonna take me with my line of work. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to set up a one night stand or something. Wanted to show you I’m genuinely interested.”

Well that was unnervingly wholesome. Where they get this man from?

You let a small grin form across your mouth, a metaphorical step forward closer to his very inviting energy.

“Well, I do like the sound of stunning.”

“Yea? I think I could say some other stuff you’d like too if you give me a chance. What do you say?”

He licked the edge of his lip and it really was so miniscule but it had your thighs tightening in a way that was unholy. Rude.

You couldn’t say yes just off principle. Ten minutes ago you had just shamed all your friends for their white proclivities and the first one that walks off the street and bats his eyelashes at you causes you to cave? The hypocrisy! But...he was fine. Like capital “F” fine. Fwine with a “w”, fine. And it’s not like he was going to take you home to pizza boxes and lost bongs and then hit you up for gas money later. He was more set in his life than you were. Him being rich wasn’t even for you to utilize; it just felt good to know that he was accomplished and secure for himself. Again you dated men...not boys. And yet still you found yourself in such a conundrum.

“You look hesitant.” He noted, eyes locking onto yours.

You nodded. “I am...Excuse my bluntness but I had just gotten done explaining to my friends that dating white men often comes with more hassle than good. It can be difficult to connect cross-culturally. And quite frankly y’all are usually racist and/or fetishists. I’m not looking to upset your mama, nor am I looking to play slave master in the bedroom.”

Honestly the little speech was usually enough to send weaker men running. You say the r-word to a white man when you’re a black woman and he either calls you the n-word or gets upset and walks away. That had been your experience thus far. Not always, but enough to set precedence. The fact that he bothered to stay at the table further already separates himself from the pack.

“I can understand where you’re coming from.” He nodded, and a crease formed subtly between his eyebrows. “Not that I could ever really understand, just that I understand your hesitancy towards me. And I understand that it’s more complicated for you than it is for me. I really wish it wasn’t that way, but obviously that isn’t exactly something you and I can fix together in this very moment.”

You steadied for yourself for his next words, sure that he was about to leave you with, “have a nice life, I’ve got a spandex fitting in the morning.” There was a feeling in your tummy that felt out of place. You noted absently that it was a flutter of disappointment. And then he kept speaking.

“I don’t want to change your opinions on all white guys. I’d be willing to wager that most of us suck, and you probably should definitely steer clear.”

This caused you to snicker a little bit, a smile coming back to your face. He practically beamed in response, teeth coming together in a megawatt smile.

“However, I’d truly hate to never see that smile again.” He groaned and layed a firm hand against his own chest. “I don’t wanna change your mind about all of us...but maybe I can change your mind about me. I don’t want to feshitize you, I don’t want some weird power play between us. I don’t wanna do anything that would hurt you or make you uncomfortable. I just wanna take a really beautiful woman out if I could, if you’ll have me? Please? And if not, I take no as my answer and I walk away a little wounded, and you’ll still be here, stunning as always.”

Ooof. Boy was good. Real good.

You twisted your lips together and eyed him another time as if you were seeing each other for the very first time. Seemingly good guy. Persistent, not demanding. Willing to have conversations about race? Biceps the size of your head. Damn it was like the devil had crafted him especially for you.

“You know I think my friends have been spying long enough. I should probably meet up with them.” You mumbled.

You reached for the check in front of you adding your tip to your total and squaring out your tab. The way his eyes raked over you did not go unnoticed, unfelt. With the check closed and on the table you reached for one of the cocktail napkins on the table, pen still in hand, and wrote a note of your own. Sliding from your seat, you reached for the prosecco and downed the fizzy beverage before pressing the napkin to his chest with your nail. There was confusion, and perhaps a bit of hurt, in his baby blue eyes. This was gonna be some real trouble for you.

His palm came to rest over yours, trapping your fingers against his chest. There was a warmth there that seemed to leave your fingertips tingling. Definitely trouble.

“You have a nice night Chris.” You grinned.

His hand fell away from yours at the slightest movement on your part. He stood there, seemingly shell shocked, as you reached for your purse and his cocktail napkin. You almost thought he was going to let you get away as you went to step around him, only for his palm to grab gently at your hip.

“Good night y/n.” He whispered and reached to kiss chastly at your cheek.

The warmth of him was more intoxicating up close. He radiated heat like he radiated pheromones. And the smell of him was absolutely ridiculous as well. Was that gucci? Dior maybe?

It was a miracle you made it around the corner.

As to be expected, your awful ass group of friends were all standing by the hostess booth peaking around at you like a couple of dumbasses. They were lucky you loved em. You had an exit to execute though, and for that at least, they were useful.

You resumed your power walk, matched with clicking heels and a teasing pop of your hips, towards them.

“Is he watching?” You asked quietly.

They all nodded in various levels of incredulousness.

“Good. Let’s go.”

And then you walked your ass out that bar only to collapse the first second you cleared the doors. Your girls descended the way only women do, like fucking superheros of their own, and helped you float back to the car.

“Girl if you don’t start spilling A-S-A-P I swear fo’ God!” Raya gasped hands shaking on the steering wheel.

“What happened what happened what happened?!” Jesse screeched.

Your head nestled against the headrest of the car, your breathing having gone unsteady by the little game you’d just played.

“I think I just told him he can take my black ass on a date.” You mumbled in shock.

The tension in the car hit an all time high as everyone went silent...And then they all bursted out laughing as if you’d mentioned the funniest joke in the damn world.

“I KNEW IT BITCH!” Tayna screamed. “OOOOOOO BITCH I KNEW IT!”

“She finna be down with the swirl tonight, y’all!” Raya cackled.  

“In the category of white boys y/n will fuck with, this one has a networth of millions and the highest grossing movie of all time.” Jesse spoke in her best game host voice.

“I’ll take Captain America for six hundred, Alex!” Tayna snickered.

And they all continued to laugh.

“I gotta get some new friends.”

TBC?

[greatreviewreview]

28 Types of Fabrics and Their Uses

Deciding which type of fabric to make an item with is an important decision, as fabrics can have countless qualities. From natural to synthetic fibers and from knit to woven, here’s a look at different fabric types and how to identify them.

Canvas. Canvas is a plain-weave fabric typically made out of heavy cotton yarn and, to a lesser extent, linen yarn. Canvas fabric is known for being durable, sturdy, and heavy duty. By blending cotton with synthetic fibers, canvas can become water resistant or even waterproof, making it a great outdoor fabric.

Cashmere. Cashmere is a type of wool fabric that is made from cashmere goats and pashmina goats. Cashmere is a natural fiber known for its extremely soft feel and great insulation. The fibers are very fine and delicate, feeling almost like a silk oxford fabric to the touch. Cashmere is significantly warmer and lighter than sheep’s wool. Often cashmere is made into a wool blend and mixed with other types of wool, like merino, to give it added weight, since cashmere fibers are very fine and thin.

Chenille. Chenille is the name for both the type of yarn and the recycled fabric that makes the soft material. The threads are purposefully piled when creating the yarn, which resembles the fuzzy exterior of the caterpillar. Chenille is also a woven fabric that can be made from a variety of different fibers, including cotton, silk, wool, and rayon.

Chiffon. Chiffon a lightweight, plain-woven fabric with a slight shine. Chiffon has small puckers that make the fabric a little rough to the touch. These puckers are created through the use of s-twist and z-twist crepe yarns, which are twisted counter-clockwise and clockwise respectively. Crepe yarns are also twisted much tighter than standard yarns. The yarns are then woven in a plain weave, which means a single weft thread alternates over and under a single warp thread. The sheer fabric can be woven from a variety of textile types, both synthetic and natural, like silk, nylon, rayon, or polyester.

Cotton. Cotton is a staple fiber, which means it is composed of different, varying lengths of fibers. Cotton is made from the natural fibers of cotton plants. Cotton is primarily composed of cellulose, an insoluble organic compound crucial to plant structure, and is a soft and fluffy material. The term cotton refers to the part of the cotton plant that grows in the boil, the encasing for the fluffy cotton fibers. Cotton is spun into yarn that is then woven to create a soft, durable fabric used for everyday garments, like t-shirts, and home items, such as bed sheets. Cotton prints and cotton solids are both available designs.

Crêpe. Crêpe is a silk, wool, or synthetic fabric with a distinctive wrinkled and bumpy appearance. Crêpe is usually a light-to- medium-weight fabric. Crêpe fabric can be used to make clothes, like dresses, suits, blouses, pants, and more. Crêpe is also popular in home decor for items like curtains, window treatments, and pillows.

Damask. Damask is a reversible, jacquard-patterned fabric, meaning that the pattern is woven into the polyester taffeta fabric, instead of printed on it. The fabric’s design is created through the weave, which is a combination of two different weaving techniques—the design is woven using a satin weave, while the background is achieved through a plain, twill, or sateen weave. Damask patterns can be either multi-colored or single colored. Damasks can be made from a variety of different textiles, including silk, linen, cotton, wool, or synthetic fibers, like rayon. Learn more about damask fabric here.

Georgette. Georgette is a type of crêpe fabric that is typically made from pure silk but can also be made from synthetic fibers like rayon, viscose, and polyester. Crêpe georgette is woven using tightly twisted yarns, which create a slight crinkle effect on the surface Georgette is sheer and lightweight and has a dull, matte finish.. Silk georgette is very similar to silk chiffon, which is also a type of crêpe fabric, but georgette is not as sheer as chiffon because of the tighter weave. Georgette fabrics are sometimes sold in solid colors but often georgette is printed and boasts colorful, floral prints.

Gingham. Gingham is a cotton fabric, or sometimes a cotton blend fabric, made with dyed yarn woven using a plain weave to form a checked pattern. Gingham is usually a two-color pattern, and popular combinations are red and white gingham or blue and white gingham. The checked pattern can come in a variety of sizes. Gingham pattern is reversible and appears the same on both sides. Gingham is a popular fabric due to its low cost and ease of production. Gingham is used frequently for button-down shirts, dresses, and tablecloths.

Jersey. Jersey is a soft stretchy, knit fabric that was originally made from wool. Today, jersey is also made from cotton, cotton blends, and synthetic fibers. The right side of jersey knit fabric is smooth with a slight single rib knit, while the backside of jersey is piled with loops. The fabric is usually light-to-medium weight and is used for a variety of clothing and household items, like sweatshirts or bed sheets.

Lace. Lace is a delicate fabric made from yarn or thread, characterised by open-weave designs and patterns created through a variety of different methods. Lace fabric was originally made from silk and linen, but today cotton thread and synthetic fibers are both used. Lace is a decorative fabric used to accent and embellish clothing and home decor items. Lace is traditionally considered a luxury textile, as it takes a lot of time and expertise to make.

Leather. Leather is any fabric that is made from animal hides or skins, and different leathers result from different types of animals and different treatment techniques. While cowhide is the most popular animal skin used for leather, comprising about 65 percent of all leather produced, almost any animal can be made into leather, from crocodiles to pigs to stingrays. Leather is a durable, wrinkle-resistant fabric, and it can take on many different looks and feels based on the type of animal, grade, and treatment.

Linen. Linen is an extremely strong, lightweight fabric made from the flax plant. Linen is a common material used for towels, tablecloths, napkins, and bedsheets, and the term “linens,” i.e. bed linens, still refers to these household items, though they are not always made out of linen fabric. The material is also used for the inner layer of jackets, hence the name “lining.” It’s an incredibly absorbent and breathable fabric, which makes it ideal for summer clothing, as the lightweight qualities allow air to pass through and moderate the body temperature.

Merino Wool. Merino wool is a type of wool gathered from the coats of Merino sheep. T While traditional wool is notorious for being itchy, merino wool is one of the softest forms of wool and doesn’t aggravate the skin. This is because of the small diameter of the fine merino fibers, which makes it more flexible and pliable and therefore less itchy. Merino wool is considered a luxurious fiber and is used frequently for socks and outdoor clothing. Merino wool is known for being odor-resistant, moisture-wicking, and breathable.

Modal. Modal fabric is a semi-synthetic fabric made from beech tree pulp that is used primarily for clothing, such as underwear and pajamas, and household items, like bed sheets and towels. Modal is a form of rayon, another plant-based textile, though it is slightly more durable and flexible than rayon. Modal is often blended with other fibers like cotton and spandex for added strength. Modal is considered a luxurious textile thanks to both its soft feel and high cost, as it is more expensive than either cotton or viscose. Learn more about modal fabric in our complete guide here.

Muslin. Muslin is a loosely-woven cotton fabric. It’s made using the plain weave technique, which means that a single weft yarn alternates over and under a single warp yarn. Muslin is known as the material used in fashion prototypes to test patterns before cutting and stitching the final product. Muslin is ideal for testing patterns, as its lightweight and gauzy, therefore it can mimic drape and fit well and is simple to sew with.

Organza. Organza is a lightweight, sheer, plain-woven fabric that was originally made from silk. The material can also be made from synthetic fibers, primarily polyester and nylon. Synthetic fabrics are slightly more durable, but the fabric is very delicate and prone to frays and tears. Organza is also characterized by very small holes throughout the home textile fabric, which are the spaces between the warp and weft thread in the plain-weave pattern. The quality of organza is defined as the number of holes per inch—more holes indicate better quality organza. Organza is extremely popular for wedding gowns and evening wear, as it is shimmery and translucent quality which creates decadent silhouettes.

Polyester. Polyester is a man-made synthetic fiber created from petrochemicals, like coal and petroleum. Polyester fabric is characterized by its durable nature; however it is not breathable and doesn’t absorb liquids, like sweat, well. Polyester blends are also very popular as the durable fiber can add strength to another fabric, while the other fabric makes polyester more breathable.

Satin. Satin is one of the three major textile weaves, along plain weave and twill. The satin weave creates an elastic, shiny, soft fabric with a beautiful drape. Satin fabric is characterized by a soft, lustrous surface on one side, with a duller surface on the other side. This is a result of the satin weaving technique, and there are many variations on what defines a satin weave.

Silk. Silk is a natural fiber produced by the silk worm, an insect, as a material for their nests and cocoons. Silk is known for its shine and softness as a material. It is an incredibly durable and strong material with a beautiful drape and sheen. Silk is used for formal attire, accessories, bedding, upholstery, and more.

Spandex. Also known as Lycra or elastane, Spandex is a synthetic fiber characterized by its extreme elasticity. Spandex is blended with several types of fibers to add stretch and is used for everything from jeans to athleisure to hosiery.

Suede. Suede is a type of leather made from the underside of the animal skin, giving it a soft surface. Suede is usually made from lambskin, but it is also made from other types of animals, including goats, pigs, calves, and deer. Suede is softer thinner, and not as strong as full-grain, traditional leather. However, suede is very durable, and due to its thin nature, it’s pliable and can be molded and crafted easily. Suede is used for footwear, jackets, and accessories, like belts and bags.

Taffeta. Taffeta is a crisp, plain-woven spandex fabric made most often from silk, but it can also be woven with polyester, nylon, acetate, or other synthetic fibers. Taffeta fabric typically has a lustrous, shiny appearance. Taffeta can vary in weight from light to medium and in levels of sheerness, depending on the type of fiber used and the tightness of the weave. Taffeta is a popular lining fabric, as the material is decorative and soft, and it is also used for evening wear and home decor.

Toile. Toile de Jouy, or simply toile, was a specific type of linen printed with romantic, pastoral patterns in a single color—usually black, blue, or red—on an unbleached fabric. Although the word toile means fabric in French, the word toile has evolved to also refer to the original design aesthetic of the fabric, which gained popularity in France in the 1700s. Toile designs are popular for non-fabric items like wallpaper and fine china. Toile fabric is used for clothing, upholstery, window treatments, and bedding.

Tweed. Tweed is a rough woven fabric usually made from wool. The fibers can be woven using a plain weave or twill weaves. It is an extremely warm, hard-wearing fabric that is thick and stiff. Wool tweed is often woven using different colored threads to achieve dynamic patterns and colors, frequently with small squares and vertical lines. Tweed is very popular for suiting and jackets, which were originally made out of the material for hunting activities.

Twill. Twill is one of the three major types of textile weaves, along with satin and plain weaves. The distinguishing characteristic of the twill weave is a diagonal rib pattern. Twill weaves have a distinct, often darker colored front side (called the wale) with a lighter back. Twill has high thread count, which means that the fabric is opaque, thick, and durable. Twill fabrics are rarely printed on, though multiple colored yarns can be used to achieve designs like tweed and houndstooth. The fabric is durable with a beautiful drape, and it is used for denim, chinos, upholstery, and bed linens.

Velvet. Velvet is a soft, luxurious fabric that is characterized by a dense pile of evenly cut fibers that have a smooth nap. Velvet has a beautiful drape and a unique soft and shiny appearance due to the characteristics of the short pile fibers. Velvet fabric is popular for evening wear and dresses for special occasions, as the polyester oxford fabric was initially made from silk. Cotton, linen, wool, mohair, and synthetic fibers can also be used to make velvet, making velvet less expensive and incorporated into daily-wear clothes. Velvet is also a fixture of home decor, where it’s used as upholstery fabric, curtains, pillows, and more.

Viscose. Viscose is a semi-synthetic type of rayon fabric made from wood pulp that is used as a silk substitute, as it has a similar drape and smooth feel to the luxury material. It is a silk-like fabric and is appealing because it is much cheaper to produce. Viscose is a versatile fabric used for clothing items such as blouses, dresses, and jackets, and around the home in carpets and upholstery.

[excuseme-youpretty]

Pairing: Kim Namjoon / Reader

Side Pairings: None

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3,748

Warnings: Brief allusions to sex, but nothing too graphic.

Notes: This oneshot was requested by anonymous. They wanted adorable fluffy Namjoon spending a rare day off with his partner. I hope, wherever you are, that you liked it and I’m sorry for the delay ♥ I’ve had a virus that’s been kicking my ass.

Make your own requests: HERE

As you fold your body up on the axis of your hip, rotating in a clean arc to reach across the mattress toward Namjoon's designated patch, you are fully expecting to feel the cool compress of abandonment rippling along your sheets. 

It's always the same, the harsh bite of cold satin which has somehow preserved your boyfriend's silhouette and the residual cling of his cologne; leaving you a little disappointed but nevertheless eager to progress your day until his inevitable return.

Only on this morning it is not a reminiscent frost that you feel, but rather an unmistakable warmth and the soft, shallow breaths which can only belong to one man.

Namjoon wakes you organically, with lips of spun sugar and the barely-there pull of his teeth leaving a curl of calligraphy along the underside of your jaw. He tastes of peppermint and sunrise, pulling you from the remnants of your sleep with a soft exhale of your name.

"Good morning, Princess." He sighs, nuzzling a deliberately soft semi-circle just beneath your ear. "Or should I say 'good afternoon'?'"

The hot midsummer sun bleeds through your aerated curtains like tangerine paint dripping from a saturated canvas. You can hear songbirds twittering enthusiastically just outside your window and the elated laughter of children participating in a rowdy all-bets-off game of kickball in the park across the street. 

Everything is go go go. Nonstop motion. Somehow, the world ticks on in spite of your unorthodox absence.

The crab-shaped clock on the wall indicates that you have missed breakfast. You are close to missing lunch, too.

And you couldn't be more delighted. 

Because with Namjoon, days off are as rare as a rainstorm in the middle of the Sahara; a much-deserved rejuvenation.

"What time is it?" You whisper, your words  coming out all slurred and sleep-blanched. 

Namjoon presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. "Well, let's see… I accrued three missed calls and four text messages before finally deciding to just turn off my phone."

"Ah, so the children are missing your effervescent presence then?"

"It would appear so. As long as we can get through the day without Yoongi-hyung committing mass Fratricide, I'll consider it a victory."

You can't help but to giggle at the notion as unprompted visuals of an unamused Yoongi wrestling with a quartet of multicolor leashes, each one connected to the torso of a hyperactive dongsaeng, and Seokjin's disapproving pursed lips, overwhelm your senses. 

"And in the meantime? You have a whole twenty-four hours before things return to normal. How do you want to spend it?"

Namjoon answers your question with the brush of his lips against your own. He takes his time claiming your mouth, his lips startlingly hot in contrast to his sweet and minty tongue.

Namjoon's fingers weave slanted tendrils down over the bare flesh of your pelvis as soon as you part, summoning a film of goosebumps to the surface of your sun-soaked skin. 

You shudder helplessly as you ride out the residual sensation of such an earth-moving kiss. 

"Mmm… Well, I hope you're happy, Mister. That kiss just wasted a good five minutes of free time."

Your boyfriend's teeth pull a fluorescent pinstripe across his bottom lip, seemingly lighting his way as he begins his slow descent down your exposed stomach and between your thighs as they give without much instruction.

"If you call kissing you until you're weak a 'waste of time' then you're really gonna hate this next part, Princess."

The tip of his nose skims past your naval, crafting a pathway for himself in the stipple of airbrushed freckles which blossom on your skin. And yet, you are quick to catch the nape of his neck with your fingers, maintaining a barely-there hold of his hair to prevent him from creeping any lower.

"Hold up there, Handsome. How about we nail two birds with one stone? There's a hot, soapy untimed shower with your name on it. And I'd be more than willing to help you scrub any… hard to reach places~"

Namjoon tilts his head back inside your loose grasp, the pads of your fingertips pushing through his silvery-blonde strands to rest almost tauntingly against his scalp. He purses his lips in thought.

"Well, I'd be a fool to refuse such a titillating offer." He presses a large open-mouthed kiss to the underside of your naval. "And I'm no fool."

You are plucked from the barely-there drape of your duvet before you can reasonably react, Namjoon's arms imprisoning your midsection and hefting you skyward before carrying you into the cool porcelain of your bathroom.

-

The water which had cascaded down from your shower faucet was luxuriously light, a sprinkling of powdered sugar across your sleep-eased muscles. And yet the petting was nothing short of heavy. 

Namjoon had taken his time working sweet-smelling suds into your skin until you gleamed with sparkling iridescence; scents of lavender and violet mingling with the sharp musk of your boyfriend's shampoo. 

He had kissed you until your lips ached, buttering you up with an overdose of affection even as you stepped out of the shower and into the baked afternoon sunlight.

After a brief rendezvous in your closet, one which had taken longer than necessary to navigate thanks to Namjoon's wandering hands and greedy lips, you both finally settled on outfits which would compliment such a rare day off. 

He now sits across from you, grinning from ear to ear as he indulges himself in a

verifiable cloud of scrambled eggs and generously buttered toast; the first home-cooked meal he has had the pleasure of tasting in far too long. Even Seokjin's schedule has become so saturated that he can no longer find the time to finesse his way around their dormitory kitchen. 

Who would have thought a group of seven growing boys could survive on a consistent diet of frequented takeaway restaurants and prepackaged vending machine snacks?

He always looks so beautiful like this, dressed in nothing but a pair of faded jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair, still damp from your shared shower and lacking any product, hangs limply around his handsome face in a fashion not too dissimilar from the signature whistle necklace draped across his chest. 

"I swear, babe, this is amazing." Namjoon croons, using a napkin to stipple away the loose crumbs which have gathered in the crevice of his ever-present smile. "What's your secret?"

Pushing your fingertips through the damp sheen of his hair, you take a seat beside him and indulge in a long, contemplative sip of your orange juice.

"A whole lot of love for my boyfriend and an unreasonably long night's sleep."

Namjoon's grin is so vast that his eyes momentarily disappear into little crescents. 

"That's fair."

He wraps an arm securely around your shoulders, tucking you into his hip where he feeds you small prisms of toast and watches as the amaranth horizon dances across your cheekbones.

You feel the cold, wet compress of a soft puppy nose brushing against your calf when RapMon darts wildly between your ankles. He yips musically, vibrating with an overdose of unexpected energy as though he himself had also indulged in a deliciously long slumber and was now reaping the rewards of his pent-up energy. 

Namjoon can't help but to laugh, the sound reverberating in tandem with the small bell looped onto Moni's technicolored collar. 

"I think our Puppy is ready to hit the road. Don't you, Princess?"

"It would certainly appear so."

You watch as Namjoon cross-hatches his thumb across an array of emails on the screen of his business cell phone, organising them into their designated folders, before he opts to switch off the device all together.

Following his lead, you gather up the empty breakfast plates and place them in the sink; deciding rather quickly that all dishwashing tasks are a problem for a future you. You take a bottle of chilled water from the fridge and grab Moni's collapsible bowl as well as his monogrammed leash, clipping it in place upon his collar and earning some gentle puppy-dog kisses in response.

You run your fingers through Moni's soft fur, giving special attention to his pointed ears and muzzle. Placing an affectionate kiss to his snout, you rise to your feet once more and turn towards your boyfriend.

Namjoon rattles his house-keys with a grin.

"Ready to get some sunshine?"

"With you? Always!"

-

The scarlet-hot skyline reflects prettily upon the shimmering silver swingset where you perch, your toes dangling mere millimetres above the dew-slicked grass. Scents of fresh pine and spring flowers permeate the air, as well as the sugary sweetness of cotton candy being spun into cute little beehives by a nearby vendor. 

At the centre of the park, a small group of children are having a competition to see who can blow the largest bubble. Like confetti, the air is full of shiny little bubbles as they rise up to the sky. And darting after them with an open mouth and comically wagging tongue is a soap-spritzed Moni. 

The children shriek with laughter, running around in circles with Moni bouncing merrily behind them. 

Namjoon's fingertips brush over your shoulders as he pushes you gently on the swing. He traces plump cartoon hearts over the nape of your neck, erecting a small film of goosebumps with every stroke. 

"It's such a gorgeous day out." He muses, turning his head to place an unexpected kiss against your forehead.

"Yeah, we really lucked out. Summer sunshine allll day."

"I'd take thunderstorms and heavy rain in a heartbeat as long as I get to spend the day with you, baby."

Ever a poet, Namjoon's words leave your insides tingling akin to sticky sherbet and fizzing pop rocks.  

"Dork~" You chastise in a soft voice full of mirth. 

You can feel his infatuated grin press into the back of your neck, his fingertips twirling around the stray strands of hair which ribbon over your noon-warmed cheeks.

"Only on my days off."

When Namjoon's digits begin to sway across your collarbones, you concertina them gently between your fingertips. You bring his hand to your lips, kissing across his skin with an audible smack. The pad of his thumb skims over your cheekbone as though he were an artist buffing paint across a canvas.

"You're so beautiful, Princess." He muses.

His words take on an illustrative quality; as though he were scribbling his infatuation across clean journal pages. And yet, before you can respond, he's dipping down just out of view to clasp a fistful of lawn.

"What're you doing, Joonie?"

"Just wait and see - It's a surprise."

Behind you, you can feel Namjoon's fingers work with fast needle-sharp precision. The rounded edge of his nail pierces through stem after stem as he braids several dainty daisies together into a makeshift crown. 

"Now, what is it that every princess needs, baby?"

"Her Prince Charming? Or Prince Destroys-Everything-He-Touches, whatever works."

"This is true." Wiping away the residual pollen on the leg of his pants, Namjoon takes a step closer toward you. He carefully places the crown on top of your head. "But she also needs her very own tiara!"

Grinning maniacally, you bring a hand up toward your head to stroke over the small stack of downy-soft petals which frame your forehead. 

"You're so cute, you know that?" You shriek, gasping when Namjoon presses a stream of rapid open-mouthed kisses against your glowing cheek. 

"Yeah, it's a special gift of mine. Come here, gorgeous."

With his hand outstretched in front of you, Namjoon holds his phone poised on both of your grinning faces. He snaps picture after picture, selca after selca, honing in on the kaleidoscopic shimmer of your eyes and the iridescent glow of lip balm which has transferred from your lips onto Namjoon's.

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity; dissolving into a world where your boyfriend's palms leave semi-permanent prints upon your hips from how tightly he embraces you and his laughter resonates deep within the crevices of your soul. 

Namjoon's cellphone feels positively heavy with the weight of all the memories you have captured together. From the soft and tender lip-locks, to the poorly performed rendition of Magic Shop, to the footage you filmed of a hyperactive Moni playfully chasing a butterfly through a cluster of dandelions. 

You have squeezed an entire month's worth of desperately craved affection into a single afternoon. 

-

It is only once the air begins to develop the faintest tickle of frost that you finally decide to depart from the park.

Namjoon's jacket falls around your shoulders like a cloak of denim. His cologne overwhelms your senses, scents of crisp waters and juniper berry, and at your feet walks a very tired but exceptionally happy puppy.

After briefly stopping by your favourite local bookstore to purchase some light reading material, as well as picking up an order of strawberry croissants and freshly brewed coffee from the quaint little patisserie where you and Namjoon had your first date, you finally arrive home. 

You unclasp Moni's leash, prompting him to scurry enthusiastically over toward his pet bed for a well-deserved nap, and retreat back to your own bedroom in order to slip out of your dress and into something more comfortable. 

Namjoon's old sweatpants drape around your hips like an elasticated hula-hoop, just barely held in place by fraying cord and sheer willpower. The sweater you have liberated from the back of your closet was once a Christmas staple before the gaudy crimson bows fell off, leaving a simple doe in its place. There are pinhole sized holes all over the elbow and sleeve, as well as a fraying hem, and yet you always find your greatest comfort when dressed in those faded and pilling fibres.

Once you have changed into your lounge wear, you return back to your living room to find Namjoon staring purse-lipped at the carpet beneath his toes. He has his business cell phone tucked in against his ear.

"So there's no major emergency then, Guk? Because this is supposed to be my day off."

You can just barely make out the airbrushed whistle of Jeongguk's voice tittering apologetically on the other end of the phone. 

"Yes, she's here." Namjoon glances up at you, smiling fondly as you throw yourself down on a nearby couch. "We're about to settle in for the evening actually, so - I… yep, okay. I'll tell her. Mhm. I will. You too, Kookie. Aight, bye."

"That sounded like fun~" You tease, wedging your spine backwards into a mismatched eruption of multicolored pillows. "Are all six members present and accounted for?"

"So far. JK sends his regards."

Rubbing away the small pearls of tension which had accumulated in his temples during the duration of his phone call, Namjoon places his cellphone down on the coffee table. He passes over your coffee order as well as a beautiful ooey-gooey strawberry croissant and folds his large limbs over the criss-cross of your own.

His lips are a scarlet compress of sugar-syrup kisses against your cheek as he presses small puffs of laminated pastry into your open mouth. 

"Now, what are we watching, Princess?"

-

It is surprisingly easy to dissolve into a rarely-negotiated routine with your billion dollar boyfriend. 

With old Friends reruns playing quietly in the background, interrupted only by the occasional snore from Moni as he navigates his way through a puppy dreamland, and the balanced warmth of Namjoon's large fingertips weaving aimless patterns across your scalp, your afternoon bleeds well into the evening before Namjoon's ravenous stomach alerts you to the passage of time.

Your fingertips have been fragranced by the scent of persistently thumbed pages, and you have just reached the point in your novel where the fair maiden must choose between the handsome but tender farm-hand or the rugged but passionate business executive.

You spare a glance toward your own leading man. With his deep-set dimples and a smile which could thaw the Arctic, you conclude that you have your own fairytale ending right in front of your very eyes.

"Hey, seeing as I'm in such a good mood, why don't we start on dinner? We can attempt that spaghetti recipe again!"

You can't help but to tut at the notion. "You mean the spaghetti recipe which nearly burned our entire kitchen down?"

"That was an accident. It could've happened to anyone!"

"You tried to cook the pasta without any water, Namjoon-ah."

"In my defence, I followed the instructions carefully. 'Cook the noodles in a pan.' I did that."

"Oh, they were cooked alright." 

You giggle in response to Namjoon's petulant pout, smothering the blush of his bottom lip in a brief but affectionate kiss. 

"How about instead of turning our kitchen into a living charcoal exhibit we order takeout from that Italian place you love?"

Namjoon's stomach rumbles with ravenous hunger as though in response to your proposal and you can't help but to laugh as you reach for the phone, having already committed your boyfriend's usual order to memory.

-

It is less than an hour later, once your stomachs have been sufficiently plied by copious quantities of rich, herby sauces and ribbons of silken (and most definitely not cremated) pasta, that Namjoon is curling back into your hip with a well-worn notebook in hand. 

You have both settled on a film for the evening, opting to delve headfirst into the technicolor vibrancy of San Fransokyo with Moni settled comfortably upon your lap and the fuzziest blanket imaginable draped around your shoulders. 

Namjoon's breath is deliciously warm where it unfurls across your throat, dripping like molten honey into your collarbones and stippling a light film of goosebumps across your skin. You can't help but to shudder as his lips find your temple, your cheek, flowing freely across the ridge of your jawline until he finally settles against the upturned curl of your lips.

"I love you so much, Princess." He sighs, inundated with adoration for his girl. 

"Not as much as I love you."

As the movie plays quietly in the background Namjoon's fingertips are ever-moving. The light scrape of his pen nib darting across clean paper provides a percussive soundtrack  to Baymax's bumbling antics, the edge of his palm stained by faded charcoal ink from touching the page before his words have sufficiently dried.

Out of the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the curl of Namjoon's haphazardly jotted Hangul, piecing together the sentences he has written in your honor.

'...Your eyes are a sunrise which blanch my skin and leave me burning all night long.'

'... Your smile, sweeter than candy, paints syrup in my veins with every glance.'

'... When you say you love me I can feel it resonate skin-deep, stacking promises like petals in my ribcage.'

Namjoon's lyrics are picturesque and beautiful. Even without the accompaniment of instruments and production you can practically feel a cococonphy of emotional ARMYs singing along passionately to each word; as though wearing your boyfriend's carefully scribed poetry like a badge of honor.

To be the inspiration behind so many awe-inspiring songs, whose lyrics act like a beacon of hope for many individuals scattered throughout the universe, well… it's quite the undertaking. 

Fortunately, Namjoon makes it all worth it. He's handsome and expressive and capable of leading an entire ARMY into a head space of pure gold. 

And as he pulls your body a fraction closer to his own, the tip of his nose nestling against your pulse point to emboss an asymmetric heart on your honeydew skin, you realise you couldn't possibly love him any more.

-

As the credits for Big Hero 6 begin to roll across your television screen, stark and loud and full of celebratory fanfare, Namjoon is quick to locate the television remote underneath his saturated notebook pages in order to hit mute. 

Beside him your eyelids have fallen to a close, lips parted to release several soft snores which fall in almost perfect tandem with Moni's fitful exhales. Your lashes flutter delicately, poured like strips of raven lace across your cheekbones, and your fingers curl instinctively in your lap as you clutch onto whatever adorable projection your mind has chosen to supply.

Placing his notebook and pen aside, Namjoon is careful to shoo RapMon away from your lap so that he does not disturb you. He half-attempts to fold the blanket which had cocooned your shoulders, opting instead to toss it onto the nearby recliner out of harm's way.

Your body is feather-light when he lifts you into his embrace. He is careful to rest your cheek against his chest, hooking your legs over his forearm to make it easier to transport you to the safe haven of your bed. 

After navigating your hallway with a surprising degree of sufficiency, having knocked over little more than a plastic vase containing decorative pebbles and perhaps skewing a photo frame or three, Namjoon carefully places you upon your bed. 

Your mattress seems to eagerly welcome the barely-there compress of your body, your satin sheets lapping up against your limbs like terracotta waves frothing upon the shore.

Once he has dimmed the lights, Namjoon places his cellphone down onto his bedside table and connects his charging cable once he is certain that he has reinstated his god-forsaken alarm.

He kicks off his jeans, opting to remain in his t-shirt and boxers for tonight, and carefully removes his whistle necklace so that he can slide comfortably in bed beside you.

Your perfume lingers upon the collar of his shirt, fragrant and floral and enhanced considerably by the catalyst of Seoul's delicious summertime air. And on his lips burns the faintest smother of the strawberry lip balm you so generously applied after your post-dinner teeth cleaning; the very same lip balm that Namjoon had been so eager to kiss off of you.

In your sleep, you turn comfortably onto your side, bowing your spine backwards until you reach the solidity of your boyfriend's elongated torso. Namjoon is quick to bracket his calf around your ankles, pressing a stream of steady kisses down your jugular and over the swell of your clavicle.

"Sweet dreams, my Princess." He sighs softly. Contentedly. 

His lashes soon begin to droop as though laden with lead, influenced in no small part by an entire day's worth of carefree relaxation and indulging without consequence. 

No meetings. 

No leadership.

No band mates. 

Just his beautiful dog, his beautiful girlfriend and a beautiful twenty four hours.

[cooperhewitt]

Dora’s Damask

The name Dora Jung (Finnish, 1906-1980) is closely associated with damask weaving, a technique in which the shiny face of satin weave and its matte reverse are manipulated to create subtle patterns. Over the course of her long career, Jung developed a variety of new techniques in damask patterning though her experiments in hand-weaving wall hangings, such as Doves, for which she was awarded the Grand Prix at the Milan Triennale in 1951. Throughout her career she also collaborated with Tampella AB, a large-scale producer of table linens. Between 1936 and 1972, she designed a prolific number of linens for the company, including 24 tablecloth sets, 6 towel sets, and 17 small domestic items. The designs found an international clientele.

Street was designed in 1962 and remained in production through 1973. It was one of several geometric, linear patterns she created in the late 1950s and early 1960s, including Line Play (1956), also in the museum’s collection. The napkins, with a design of interlocking rectangles along one edge, coordinated with a tablecloth with the same design in the center and the four corners. The set was offered in tan, green, olive, blue, or yellow.

from Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum https://ift.tt/2LuCqKg via IFTTT

[alannairis]

Celebrate Festive Moments with Metro Band Napkins – Adding a Touch of Elegance to Every Occasion!

Enhance your table settings with Metro Band Napkins, the ideal solution for creating sophisticated and beautiful dining occasions. These 22x22 satin band napkins have an attractive satin weave design that will add a touch of luxury to any gathering. These luxury event Metro Band Napkins are ideal for business events, weddings, and upmarket locations and are sure to wow. They are available for wholesale napkin orders and are designed to fulfill the needs of the hospitality industry, making them the preferred choice for hospitality napkins and commercial dining napkins alike. These bulk napkins are robust and suited for frequent usage, whether you run a restaurant or cater to large gatherings. Their high-quality 50/50 % cotton/poly material makes them ideal for napkin folding in restaurants, allowing you to create magnificent table presentations. For care, these fabric napkins are easy to maintain. Follow simple fabric care instructions for napkins, including machine washing with similar colors and tumble drying on low, to keep them looking pristine for every occasion.

[ethereousdelirious]

Fandom: The G.reat G.atsby Characters: N.ick C.arraway & J.ay G.atsby (m/m intimacy/sensuality but not necessarily slashy) Tropes: vomiting, fever, belly kink (specifically that thing where Person A is vomiting and Person B has a hand on their stomach), that thing where a sick character is mistaken for drunk Summary: A stomach bug Nick didn’t know he had catches up to him at one of Jay’s parties

Nick had just decided he was dying, but he had yet to determine whether the embarrassment or the vomiting would kill him faster.

“Too much to drink?” Gatsby asked with a sympathetic smile, leaning in close so he wouldn’t have to raise his voice over the music.

Nick straightened up and staggered back a few steps, away from the bushes. He wiped his mouth on a cocktail napkin and looked up, confused. “No, I haven’t-- I just got here.”

Gatsby gave no indication that he had listened or heard. “Oh, excuse me a moment, old sport. The governor’s here and he wants to say hello. Drink some water.”

“But I--” Nick protested, but Gatsby was gone. Nick sighed through his nose. Between the fevered red of his cheeks and the vomiting, he probably did look drunk. Given the context, anyone would have assumed so. He sat down hard on the steps, curled over on himself with his elbows resting on his knees. He wanted desperately to go home, but even sitting here was hard enough. He doubted he’d make it even halfway across the lawn.

The party felt unreal, and Nick felt as though he was separated from the world around him by a thin, white veil.

He couldn’t keep sitting here.  The stairs were hard and cold and he was in the way; silks and satins kept brushing against his face and shoulders as people passed in and out of Gatsby’s house.

With an effort, Nick forced himself to his feet. The fairy lights out in the garden rocked and swayed and his stomach gave a seasick lurch. He reached out to steady himself against the doorframe, but something else caught him under the shoulder and held him up.

“Quite the night you’re having. Did you drink any water?”

Nick leaned heavily into Gatsby for a moment, then shifted all his weight to his own feet. He swayed, off-balance.  “I’m not--” he tried to say, but his voice disappeared amidst the music and the shouted conversations. Gatsby tried to speak also, but couldn’t make himself heard. He took Nick by the wrist and led him to a quieter corner in the house, where most of the noise emanated from a grand piano which stood surrounded by a semicircle of loveseats.

“Sit here,” Gatsby directed sotto voce. “I’ll get you some water.”

Nick slumped back against the cushions and watched Gatsby disappear into the crowd. It was nice here. The loveseat was comfortable, and cool against his sweat-soaked back. But the walk over had not been kind. Something in the movement had triggered another wave of nausea. He had hoped that sitting still would help his stomach settle, but the discomfort only continued to mount. Nick couldn’t stay here. He forced himself up, breath coming in shallow gasps. It was hard to make out where he was going through all the people, the dresses and suits and lights and shadows. He found a wall and followed it to a closed door that led to the far lawn. It was deserted, but he could hear the splashes and shouts from the pool around the backside of the house.

People didn’t come over to this side because Gatsby had designed it that way. Across this wide lawn was Nick’s house, hidden in the trees and bushes and distance, yet still near enough that the lights and noises would have carried and disturbed him, had he been home.

Nick made a noise in the back of his throat and fell to his knees, bile rising hot and painful in his chest. He caught himself against the wall of the house and heaved. Watching the process made him feel worse, so he shut his eyes until he was sure it was over. That part took longer than expected. The retching continued long after the actual vomiting had stopped, as his body kept trying to force out things that weren’t there any more. It hurt. The muscles in his abdomen all ached and clenched and the nausea never fully dispersed, only faded back to something less urgent. Nick stood up slowly and spat. He had to go back inside and explain himself to Jay.

Bleary-eyed, he came back through the doorway and weaved his way through the crowd. The loveseats were just the same as he had left them, quiet and still and tranquil. The pianist played on. Nick sat down and closed his eyes. If he could just fall asleep, maybe he would feel better when he woke.

“How are you holding up?”

Gatsby again. Nick opened his eyes. Jay was standing over him holding a highballs glass filled with what was presumably orange juice. “Been better,” Nick rasped, wincing at the way the words seemed to scrape his throat.

Gatsby frowned. “Drink this,” he said, offering Nick the glass.

Nick took it gratefully. His mouth was dry and still sour with the taste of vomit. He took an experimental swallow from the glass. The light, citrus taste was objectively pleasant, but it felt too thick and sweet in his mouth. His stomach twisted painfully. Nick’s knuckles were white around the glass. He hunched over and pressed his free hand to his mouth.

“It’s alright,” Gatsby said kindly. “Someone’s already spilled champagne on the rug, so I’m having it cleaned no matter what.”

Nick vomited between his legs. There wasn’t much left to come up, just a bit of acid and the orange juice, but it hurt all the same. He was fading, fading, fading, the room was disappearing little by little. He barely registered the hand on his back.

“You’re burning up!” Gatsby said with a start.”Look at me.” Nick brought his head up. Gatsby pressed his forehead to Nick’s, not seeming to mind the sweat. “You’re really not well, old sport.”

Nick couldn’t make himself respond. Piece by piece, he was disappearing, and then he was gone.

He came back to himself in fragments: first he registered a body pulling away from his, the soft cushions against his back, then the music from the grand piano. The discomfort came back slowly also, starting with his dry mouth and ending with his aching muscles.

Though he really didn’t want to, Nick opened his eyes. He blinked suddenly at the light from a chandelier. He was on his back on the loveseat with his feet resting on the armrest and Gatsby frowning down at him. “I don’t like that fever at all, old sport,” Gatsby said, looking Nick up and down. “You haven’t had anything to drink, have you?”

Nick shook his head, not sure if he was up to talking. He blinked slowly, his eyes lingering shut. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and drift away. Never mind the fact that he was at a nice party wearing his nice party clothes talking to the nice party host. He could deal with it all when he woke up, when he felt better.

Gatsby shook his shoulder gently. “You can’t stay here.”

“Oh, right.” Nick sat up slowly, waiting for the ringing to leave his ears before he spoke again. “I’ll be heading home now. I’m-- I’m sorry--”

“What?” Gatsby looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t allow you to go home, not in this condition. I meant you can’t stay here on the couch; you need to be in bed. Let me help you up.” He edged his shoulder under Nick’s and helped him to his feet.

The shift made Nick’s stomach writhe but they were walking now and there was nothing left for him to vomit up anyway. He swallowed hard and tried and failed to catch his breath.

“Stairs,” Gatsby said, and Nick could hear the frown in his voice even though he was looking down at his shoes.

“I can manage,” Nick said because it had to be true. As they mounted the stairs, his mind went back to the place it had gone when he was a soldier, the place that had kept him sane through days of marching through the gray countryside.

At the top, he slapped a hand over his mouth and was paralyzed until Gatsby put a gentle hand to his stomach. “It’s alright, old sport, I can have the floor cleaned.”

Nick dropped his hand, but nothing happened. The nausea was so intense it was almost painful and the threat of vomiting made him afraid to move and he was still keenly aware of Gatsby’s hand on his stomach. Still, some small part of his brain wished he was just a little sicker, because as awful as he felt, the shame flooding his chest made everything so much worse and he wished heartily not to feel it. “I’m sorry, Jay. I wouldn’t have come if I--”

“I know, old sport.” Gatsby traced his thumb in soothing circles over the front of Nick’s dress shirt. “I asked you to.” He pulled his hand back to his side. “We’re almost there.”

Nick let Jay lead him to a fine bedroom done up in shades of cream and carob. Away from the bright lights of the party and the critical eyes of its guests, the tension fled Nick’s shoulders and he almost collapsed. Jay caught him about the shoulders and set him down on the bed.

Somewhere in the flurry and whirl, Nick caught an ornate, monogrammed “J.G.”

“Jay,” he said, looking up into Jay’s worried eyes. “Is this your room?”

“Best room in the house,” Gatsby answered without really answering.

Nick, drunk with fever, tried to stand up, only to stumble into Gatsby and wind up back on the bed. “I couldn’t-- I don’t want to impose.” “I’m afraid I’m not giving you a choice, old sport,” Jay said, his tone not leaving much room for argument. He knelt and started undoing Nick’s shoelaces.

Nick tolerated this in a sort of daze until both his shoes and socks were off and he realized what was coming next. He gave a sort of involuntary shiver and the nausea lying dormant in his belly flared back to life.

Jay took the hint and dived for a wastebasket. “I’m sorry, I should have thought of that first.”

Nick couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation; him in Jay’s bed being attended to so solicitously. He ought to be the one apologizing.

Unfortunately, laughing hurt his overtaxed abdominal muscles,so he was only able to let out a pained chuckle.

“Are you alright?” Jay asked. When Nick nodded, he said “Onward and upward,” and quickly relieved Nick of his trousers, which he folded neatly and placed on the floor.

“Jay,” Nick said shortly, a warning. He was curled forward, his hands layered protectively over his belly, pressing the buttons of his shirt hard into his skin. To expose the weakest part of himself went against every instinct he had, especially with the unbearable nausea thrashing so near to the surface.

Jay didn’t say anything. Slowly, delicately, he undid Nick’s bowtie and vest and set to work on the shirt buttons. Every movement was deliberate and gentle, carefully designed to cause Nick no extra pain or jarring. Nick found his tense muscles starting to loosen. He couldn’t relax completely, but he allowed Jay to move his hands aside so he could finish with the buttons.

When he had finished, Jay moved his hands up to Nick’s shoulders so he could finish removing the shirt. Nick’s breath hitched. He leaned forward to try to aim for the wastebasket, but all he could see were Gatsby’s shoes and the pristine white carpet.

Nick closed his eyes and suddenly there was a red-hot hand on his aching stomach. The exhausted muscles contracted and he dry-heaved, feeling tears prick at the corner of his eyes. And still there was the warm reassurance of Gatsby’s hand pressed to his abdomen, easing the soreness somewhat. Still, Nick couldn’t help but groan in discomfort

“Perhaps I should send for a doctor,” Gatsby murmured to no one.

Nick shifted listlessly on the bed. “Rest,” he rasped. “Just need to rest.”

“Of course, old sport, of course.” Jay wrangled him under the covers somehow and Nick knew no more.

[alfy196]

Your dining deserves the timeless charm of metro band napkins! 

The metro band napkin is a rich blend of style and functionality.  It is designed with elegance and high durability. Measuring 22”x22”, the napkins offer excellent coverage and are suitable for various occasions, from formal dinners to casual gatherings. The subtle yet stylish pattern of the satin weave napkin makes it signatory. Made from high-quality material, it provides a soft and luxurious feel, maintaining its durability even after repeated uses. The neutral and versatile design complements a wide range of theme decor, ensuring they fit seamlessly into any dining aesthetic. It can be folded elegantly into intricate shapes or draped casually. The metro napkins are ideal for restaurants, weddings, home entertainment, wedding banquets, and corporate gatherings. It is easy to care for with machine washable convenience and is stain-resistant.  Add such napkins to your collection for a refined and polished table setting.

[kavancarty-blog]

A Guide to Hotel Bedding Fabric

Since way back when, Linen has become serving a vast variety of necessities within our world. It is just a textile produced from flax plants. The name Lenin is produced by Latin name for flax plant, Linum. Linens are believed one of the oldest textiles of history dating about 8000 BC. The top ingredient that made Linen stand the test of energy is its longevity. Linen manufacturing is very time consuming process, nevertheless is vogue and appears extravagant and gorgeous at the end. Even though use of linen has evolved dramatically in the past, the essential component of it that never changed is its dominance in clothing industry. It can be widely used in creating a numerous selection of fabrics for example towels, bedding, tablecloths, napkins etc. It is often also extensively employed in women's apparel for a long time. There has been a small depression widely used for Linen during 1970s, but it incrementally rose to 70% by 1990s due to the quality. It is currently synonymous with luxury and standing. Linen keeps the warmth in order for the wearer. Their bed sheets created from Linen are weather conditioned - these are warm in winters and funky in summers - such is its efficiency. Pure linen that is certainly created from natural flax fibers or 100% linen is the better material for clothing. Linen weave manufactured from cotton, hemp along with other non-flax fibers these are known as as Linens too. Clothing pertaining to Bed, Bath and Kitchen favor the Linens which can be united with cotton for its affordability and absorb-ability. These have a large market in Hotels, Restaurants, Hospitals, Assisted Living Facilities, Churches, Weddings, Hospitality and Healthcare Industries. The main reason of those renowned industries to opt Linens for their services is durability, strength, flexibility yet being extremely comfortable for patrons and for their staff to launder it. Frequently employed fabrics including Hotel Bedsheets, Hotel towels, Hotel Linens, Restaurant Linens, Hospitality Linens, Napkins, Table Linens - each is commonly made from Linens but various sorts. The modification in the design of weaving differentiates one linen from another. Let's check into a few forms of linens in addition to their uses. Mercerized - Design for cotton making of linen can make it dual advantage because it provides softness of the antique fabric and sturdiness of cotton. Even with some washes, nevertheless sports ths same quality rendering it a perfect affordability. Damask Linen Fabric - Do you want some luxury then go for Damask. Damask Linen fabric is woven in plain and satin weaves, which has an extra soft texture for the fabric that is smooth and pleasant to feel. The jump out feature of the fabric usually is available in single color - mostly blue or red or both - with very fine design on it plus reversible pattern.

Plain-Woven Linen Fabric - This is actually the most used fabric to clean glassware. It really is famously known as Glass Toweling. That one is really a loosely woven fabric, rendering it a best water absorbing fabric and thus its domination in cleaning services. You will find again many different kinds under Plain-woven linen fabric - each having its own purpose. Holland Linen is employed to make windshields and Lamp shades for this is opaque and thick enough to block sun-rays entering inside. Cambric Linen is the one other plain-woven fabric that is utilized to produce of handkerchiefs and lingerie since it is the thinnest woven fabric coming from all. Butcher's linen since the name has it, is used by butchers as aprons because of its strong plain weave. These fabrics are rigid and hard textured, competent at withstanding the harshest of stains. Loosely Woven Linen - These are the most absorbent fabrics one of the rest Linen fabrics. You can find again variations under this Linen to provide a range of necessities. Bird's eye linen and Huck-aback Linen are widely accommodated  for the geometric designs and delicate requisites including diapers and sanitary towels. Sheeting Linen - Sheeting Linen can be used to make Bed Sheets. They have highest demand in service-based industries and it is commonly preferred for Hotel bed linens. Egyptian cotton is the most desired sheeting due to the luxurious experience, real Egyptian cotton is grown in Egypt under careful supervision and is also hence, extremely soft as well as durable. Buyers have to be vigilant in buying an Egyptian cotton with there being more false ones than originals out there. Toweling - These linens are specially utilized for producing towels of different sizes and lengths for Hotels and Restaurants for hotel towels, restaurant napkins and bathroom linens. They may be made after exact and accurate measurements to get the guest the very best connection with touch, feel and usability. How can you tell whether the linen you bought is honest, reliable and superior in quality? The grade of linen is measured in GSM - grams per square meter. With the weight with the Linen fabric, you are able to determine its perfection. The larger the variety of GSM, the better is the quality of linen fabric. Before you go to get a linen fabric, it is prudent to accomplish some research on GSM levels. Typically for any towel linen, 400-600 GSM indicates a cloth of medium quality, anything under 400 GSM is thinner and also cheap quality. Levels higher than 600 GSM are believed luxurious, super absorbent and quality fabrics. For Bed sheets, 160 to 200 GSM is mandatory. GSM level below 140 is again not of excellent quality and it is far better to ignore. Linens of lesser GSM levels get yourself a hard workout and lose elements of fabric each time it can be laundered. Now, comes the most difficult part - a good wholesale linen supplier. To elect a good supplier becomes a challenge in the event the marketplace is as broad because linen market. To select the best wholesale linen supplier, one must reconsider the aforementioned discussed factors. Test the ability in the supplier, being cognizant will be the sole method to locate the best wholesale linen supplier and master ale linen purchase. * Should you must buy hotel linens at wholesale, avoid buying at market price. Brick-and-mortar stores usually have deals available. Along with some planning and research, it is possible to lessen your hotel expenses when you buy hotel linens in big amounts. For more information about Khan bong khach san go this popular resource.

[iamrheaspeaks]

Res·pite

Erik x OC! (Eli)

Bold Italics: Inner Dialogue 

Word Count: ~2070 (including lyrics)

Warnings: None

Listening Suggestions: Like This by JoJo

A/N: Lightly proofread/ edited. Enjoy! 💋

res·pite ˈrespət,rēˈspīt/ noun: a short period of rest or relief from something difficult or unpleasant.

Erik’s POV:

Inside past security was a set of frosted glass double doors. There was obvious movement and colorful strobe lights flashing wildly beyond them, making the scene within appear to be more like a rave than a club. Imma kill that nigga for suggesting this place. Long lashes and hazel eyes connected with his through auburn colored bangs from behind a small desk. Confidence dripped off her petite frame as she handed him a pair of headphones with a smile before licking of her lips. He returned the gesture with a flash of the gold caps adorning his bottom canines, “What a nigga need these for?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

Mirroring his expression, “This must be your first time huh, handsome?” Chuckling while she pushed her hair behind one ear she continued, “It’ll will be more fun if ya wear em” nodding her head towards the door daring him to venture further.

Erik thought that the frosted doors outside were just muffling the pounding of the music that was sure to assault his eardrums upon stepping through them. Instead he’s left looking around the sea of scantly clad bodies swaying to a rhythm he couldn’t hear. Everyone’s movements blending together and the light of their glowing jewelry not being able to keep up with the swinging arms and winding hips they were connected to surrounding him. Just as he was turning around to speak to the girl at the desk again Erik’s eyes found the DJ, who happened to be looking right at him. Being the only person not dancing he must’ve stuck out like a sore thumb. She pointed to the headphones adorning her bald head and winked before directing her attention back to the turntables bobbing her head to the beat.  

It’ll be more fun if ya wear em

In the presence of others getting taken on the same musical journey while strangely feeling completely wrapped up in a world all his own, Erik found himself in somewhat of a euphoric state that could only be rivaled by sex. After weaving through the masses of dancing lights, thirsty glances and spilled drinks Erik found a throne to perch for the night. It was a black leather couch in the back with two tables on either side of jaguars with circular glass tops. Sitting back as he sparked the blunt that was tucked away in his pocket Erik glanced forward and grinned, noticing he’d sat directly in front of the DJ booth. It’s the same exact buzz you get as when you snag the seat directly under the projector in the movie theatre. Blunt between his lips, arms stretched on the back of the couch feeling like a true king completely in his element. Erik’s gaze snapped towards the movement descending from above the DJ booth. Is that a cage? The strobe lights dimmed to a warm flicker as a soft blue spotlight slowly descended upon the cage until­­­­­­––

Her kinky curls hang loose underneath the headphones. Her tendrils were stretching and bouncing in sync with her movements. Mane mimicking the way the smoke from his blunt curved around the air before fading out. Feet covered in white high top Chucks. Exposed deep bronze colored skin trailing up her legs to her black shorts that could’ve been underwear with how small and fitted to her curves they were. Her plain white tee rising the tiniest bit revealing her midriff whenever she extended her arms towards the heavens. She wound her body to the flow of the beat, the sway of her hips and slight bounce of her ass captivated him. Her head fell back, face towards the ceiling revealing the fact that she was also blindfolded. Hidden mainly because her back was facing him but also thanks to her thick curls hiding the tied knot of satin that kept it in place. Extending both arms out, her hands just barely floated beyond the bars of the cage. And with a “come hither” motion two more girls are made visible that are housed in smaller cages of their own.

Suddenly a voice rang through his headphones, “Please allow me to introduce you to the beauties above me” the DJ began. “On the right we have Emily, she’s the auburn beauty that gave you all headphones tonight and on the left is Alicia; it’s her first night so be more nice than naughty” she quipped. “Last but not least, the goddess in the center is Eli”. Eli. That’s the name he’d been waiting to hear, licking his lips hungrily as he recited it to himself in his head again. Erik didn’t know what it was about Eli, but he wanted her. Breaking Erik from his thoughts she continued “I’m your DJ Mahkayla and Welcome to Res·pite!”

Erik was so wrapped up in watching Eli dance and thinking of all the things he would do to her when he had the chance that he almost didn’t notice the bottle girl that had walked over. Setting down a napkin before placing a glass on top and filling it with Hennessey. “I ain’t order that” he deadpanned removing the headphones from one ear.

“I know” she giggled pointing towards Mahkayla “Compliments of the DJ. Tea is her roommate”. And with that she stepped back out of sight.

“Aye!” Erik spoke a little more eager than he would’ve liked. Stopping in her tracks but not speaking allowing him to continue, “Lemme ask you somethin”. Picking up on the lust dripping from his voice the bottle girl turned back in Erik’s direction giving a low yes. “What you think my odds are of getting close to Eli?”

Quickly shaking off the shock of his brashness she returned to where Erik was, sitting down next to him. Smiling she placed a hand on Erik’s shoulder giving him her full attention, “Ask her yourself, if you’re really that brave”.

“Oh, I am.” Erik smirked.

“Cocky aren’t we?” noting the head nod he gave in response she continued “Well, fair warning no one else has come close to bedding Eli but tonight may be your lucky night”.

Humming lowly Erik inquired further, “And why is that ma?”

“Because that painting is her favorite” pointing to the mural of two jaguars standing on their hind legs reaching up towards a crown in the center. It had the view of a dark purple and deep blue sunset in the background. Bringing his attention back to her, “It’s the first thing Eli looks at when she takes off her blindfold and since you’re sitting here­­––” pausing as she moved to stand, “you gonna be the first person she sees”. Erik’s head glanced up towards her now towering figure but all she did was offer a playful wink leaving him with that thought bomb.

 Eli’s POV:

The way Eli moved was effortless. Anyone paying attention could tell that she was totally enveloped in the high that Mahkayla’s music was giving her. Body twisting, rolling and winding inside the confines of her cage like it wasn’t even there. But she never felt freer than when dancing at Res·pite. The music flowed through her and she allowed it to guide her movements. The addition of the blindfold was more for her than anyone else, as it was a means to prolong the high.

The instrumental version of “Like This” by JoJo started to pulse through her headphones. Eli immediately felt a wave of warmth hit her from recognizing the beat, as if that was her personal cue to finally remove her blindfold. Hand going to the back of her head Eli gently tugged on the satin tie releasing the knot before lifting it in the air and dropping it outside her cage. She watched it flutter to the stage below, just behind Mahkayla. Slowly raising her eyes to the painting at the back of the club, only to be greeted by a sight she could only describe as perfection. Like his presence was the one thing that it had been missing the whole time. What little she did see made the hair on the back of her neck rise up. His ensemble was all black with the two gold chains hanging from his neck being the only touch of color. One appeared to be held down by something, a ring maybe? And a boyishly handsome grin showcasing white teeth, no doubt a welcomed surprise. Eli can’t help but feel compelled to hold eye contact as she began to move again, lips quietly reciting the words to the chorus of the song from memory.

“He told me that he like this, he like this/ He wanna take his time with me, like this/ Let me show you how I wind it, like this/ Let me show you like, like, show you like, like/ Take your body downtown, but right round/ Like you better with the lights down, but right down/ Higher than the ceiling, hotter than the sun/ You want some of me? Baby come get some, l-l-like”

Seeing as how this was the first time Eli ever actually made eye contact with someone while dancing it was a wonder she was so calm about it. But something about his presence in her favorite spot just made her want to see how long he could hold her gaze now that her amber eyes weren’t hidden behind that blindfold. Something he was clearly waiting for, seeing as how his gaze never faltered.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the song faded out into yet another. With that Eli blew kiss and winked before crossing her legs, removing her headphones bending at the waist taking a bow. Curls cascading like a waterfall towards her feet as the blue spotlight rose up before cutting off leaving only Emily and Alicia visible.

Making her way to the bar Eli stops when she sees October. “Hey sexy girl!” she cooed in her ear hugging her from behind.

“Hey lover!” October responded turning to give Eli a peck on the cheek.

“October. Who’s that in my happy place?”

Chuckling, knowing exactly who her friend was talking about, “All I know is he’s one of Tea’s boys. Mahkayla had me bring him a bottle of Henny on the house and...­­” she dramatically paused.

“And what bitch?” Eli spat pinching October’s arm.

“Owe! Okay, okay! He basically asked me what what you like and I told him to ask you himself” she spilled out.

“Well…in that case, you know where to find me love”. October nodded before continuing her way back to the bar.

Eli stalked her way towards her mystery man until he was in full view. Arms by his sides, hands intertwined with each other in his lap and head rested against the couch with shut eyes. Dreads, braided back neatly and both ears covered by the headphones, listening to whatever mix Mahkayla was currently pumping out. Eli sat down on the table next to his drink, finally making her presence known when she gently squeezed Erik’s knee. Internally jumping out his skin before his eyes settled on the sight before him. Dimples coming into full view as he smiled at her. Removing his headphones completely while as she drank straight from the bottle of Henny on the table.

“Aye! Eli right?”

Putting up a finger to pause the starting conversation so she could down the large gulp she just took before snapping back, “Now see…that’s not fair. I don’t know your name”.

He chose to ignore the pulse that boomed through him at the sound of her voice, “Erik”.

“Erik. You look like you have something you wanna ask me”.

“Yeah. What I gotta do for you to leave wit me?”

Big dick energy much? Eli thought to herself as she shook her head at his question. Her next move totally unexpected, as she leaned forward looking down at the chains against his chest and something else, momentarily. Gently sliding her finger into the ring and tugging on it bringing Erik’s face mere centimeters away from hers. Seeing his eyes blown wide open with lust Eli bit her lip smiling in response, “You really trying to get into something tonight huh Erik?

Breathing deeply, “You know I am ma. So what do you say?”

“Well…Erik. You’re gonna have to do something for me then.”

“Meaning what exactly, princess?”

Eli laughed at the pet name but the look in her eyes afterwards let him know just how serious her next words were. “Get in my cage!” 😈

A/N: The inspiration for how Respite operates i.e. the importance of the headphones came from the ending of a random episode of the TV show “Lethal Weapon”. Its essentially what I imagine a “silent” rave would be like, but more fun 🤷🏾‍♀️

Also, I have this affinity for names and what they mean and sometimes incorporate that into the characters personality. Eli means: Ascend/ High and Erik means: Eternal Ruler/ Honorable Ruler

Tags: @cancerianprincess @savagesensitivity @another-imaginesblog @loosewindmill @bidibidibombaclaat

[faucettjoseph246]

Just4unique Bespoke Suit Fabric: The Different Types Of Weaves

Learn more about bespoke suits by learning about different types of weaves. Just4unique lists popular bespoke suit fabrics below. Check it out now and choose the one that suits your needs and wants.

 #bespokesuitfabric #typesofweaves #twill #sharkskin #herringbone

 Gentlemen, understanding fabric weaves is vital since the smoothness, comfort, thickness, durability, grip strength, and even drape of the fabric that will eventually become your bespoke garments are all determined by the weave type (bespoke suit). The way warp threads and weft yarns are interlaced is referred to as a fabric weave. Just4unique has compiled a list of the most common weaves seen in bespoke suits. Check it out right now to see what's ideal for your goals and requirements.

The Basic Types of Weaves for Bespoke Suit:

The Bespoke Twill Weave

Twill is a pattern of diagonal parallel ribs in a textile weave. Along with plain weave and satin, it is one of three basic forms of textile weaves. It's a flexible and durable weave with parallel diagonal lines on the front and back sides that differ from one another. Even if manufactured with heavy yarns, fabrics made with this weave are not rigid and react to movement with a wonderful drape. Twill drapes nicely as a result of its structure.

 Twill-woven textiles are distinguished by their use of a certain material; chino, for example, is a soft cloth made of twill-woven cotton. Wool is the most common yarn used in this weave, but cotton, silk, and synthetic yarns can also be used. Silk twill is commonly used as a substrate for accessories like scarves and pareos with intricate designs. The weft-thread of denim, possibly the most renowned twill fabric, is white or off-white, while the warp thread is indigo-dyed.

 The durable fabric known as gabardine is made with a tight twill weave in worsted wool and is still used by select high-quality tailors to build the pockets of their tailored suits.

 The Bespoke Sharkskin Weave

Sharkskin is a general word for a woven or warp-knitted cloth that resembles the skin of a shark. On the fabric's face, the lines go from the bottom left to the upper right. Sharkskin fabric is often manufactured with acetate and rayon yarns, as well as worsted wool and different synthetic mixes, and comes in plain, basket, and twill weave forms. Sharkskin textiles are two-toned smooth fabrics created by basket weaving threads of two distinct colors, with the darker thread running diagonally to the lighter one. A sharkskin fabric has a silky texture, is wrinkle-resistant, and has a lovely gloss, which makes it ideal for formal wear.

 The color of the yarns is combined with a twill weaving technique in which the colorful threads run diagonally to the white yarns to create the finish of the sharkskin cloth. Sharkskin is perfect for curtains, tablecloths, and napkins since it is lightweight and wrinkle-free. Sharkskin is a popular fabric for worsted bespoke suits, light winter jackets, and coats for both men and women. In diving suits and wetsuits, sharkskin is often utilized as a lining.

The Bespoke Herringbone Weave

Herringbone is a road-building design that dates back to the ancient Roman Empire. The bricks were set in a zig-zag manner to create a V-shape or crisscross design. This was due to the crisscrossing pattern's ability to condense traffic and allow for easy movement. Herringbone weave, on the other hand, can be traced all the way back to ancient Italy, where it was utilized for tailoring, it gained popularity in the weaving business as menswear grew more prominent. Herringbone has withstood the test of time and is still utilized to create some of the most popular ensembles, especially suits and skirts.

 Different types of textiles can be used to create a herringbone weave. It's simply a design with a distinctive V form. The pattern is divided into columns, with each column's lines leaning in different directions. Herringbone is the name of distinctive chevron-patterned twill fabric. Herringbone is a zigzag pattern that reverses every few rows to create a skeleton-like pattern, hence the name. It's a popular suit and high-fashion design, as well as sportswear.

 Clothing with a herringbone weave is quite popular. It is utilized in the manufacture of high-end bespoke suits, coats, and gowns. The following are some of its most common applications:

  ●          Herringbone suits are a terrific alternative for guys who wear business professional attire on a daily basis. The herringbone weave is subtle whether woven with blue worsted or charcoal wool. This offers the suit a fashionable appearance while maintaining the characteristics that distinguish it as an official dress code.

●          Tuxedos are formal apparel that may be made with the herringbone weave. Satin-faced lapels, satin buttons, and a satin side-stripe down the trouser leg are all missing from suits. Tuxedos, on the other hand, do. The jacket, lapel, and pants are all made of the same cloth in a suit.

●          Sportcoats are informal, which is why they're perfect for showing off herringbone in all its vibrant splendor. Herringbone weave is used in a lot of everyday spot coat fabrics like donegals and simple tweeds. Sportcoats of this kind go nicely with jeans, sweaters, and casual pants.

 The Bespoke Birdseye Weave

Bird's eye is a cotton fabric woven on a dobby loom that has a tiny, repeated woven pattern that looks like diamonds or, more often, a bird's eye. This fabric was initially created using cotton or linen and is suitable for a wide range of clothes, however, it is most commonly seen in men's suits. A weave that creates small-scale diamond shapes, each with a dot in the middle, like a bird's eye. A small-scale that is usually geometric is the design of a comparable form is also available. 

The Bespoke Tropical Weave

Tightly twisted strands are used to create a plain weave. Mohair from Angora goats is used for part of the wool in several tropical-weave suits since it is lighter than sheep's wool but still holds up well.

[doverapril246]

Just4unique Bespoke Suit Fabric: The Different Types Of Weaves

Learn more about bespoke suits by learning about different types of weaves. Just4unique lists popular bespoke suit fabrics below. Check it out now and choose the one that suits your needs and wants.

 #bespokesuitfabric #typesofweaves #twill #sharkskin #herringbone

 Gentlemen, understanding fabric weaves is vital since the smoothness, comfort, thickness, durability, grip strength, and even drape of the fabric that will eventually become your bespoke garments are all determined by the weave type (bespoke suit). The way warp threads and weft yarns are interlaced is referred to as a fabric weave. Just4unique has compiled a list of the most common weaves seen in bespoke suits. Check it out right now to see what's ideal for your goals and requirements.

The Basic Types of Weaves for Bespoke Suit:

The Bespoke Twill Weave

Twill is a pattern of diagonal parallel ribs in a textile weave. Along with plain weave and satin, it is one of three basic forms of textile weaves. It's a flexible and durable weave with parallel diagonal lines on the front and back sides that differ from one another. Even if manufactured with heavy yarns, fabrics made with this weave are not rigid and react to movement with a wonderful drape. Twill drapes nicely as a result of its structure.

 Twill-woven textiles are distinguished by their use of a certain material; chino, for example, is a soft cloth made of twill-woven cotton. Wool is the most common yarn used in this weave, but cotton, silk, and synthetic yarns can also be used. Silk twill is commonly used as a substrate for accessories like scarves and pareos with intricate designs. The weft-thread of denim, possibly the most renowned twill fabric, is white or off-white, while the warp thread is indigo-dyed.

 The durable fabric known as gabardine is made with a tight twill weave in worsted wool and is still used by select high-quality tailors to build the pockets of their tailored suits.

 The Bespoke Sharkskin Weave

Sharkskin is a general word for a woven or warp-knitted cloth that resembles the skin of a shark. On the fabric's face, the lines go from the bottom left to the upper right. Sharkskin fabric is often manufactured with acetate and rayon yarns, as well as worsted wool and different synthetic mixes, and comes in plain, basket, and twill weave forms. Sharkskin textiles are two-toned smooth fabrics created by basket weaving threads of two distinct colors, with the darker thread running diagonally to the lighter one. A sharkskin fabric has a silky texture, is wrinkle-resistant, and has a lovely gloss, which makes it ideal for formal wear.

 The color of the yarns is combined with a twill weaving technique in which the colorful threads run diagonally to the white yarns to create the finish of the sharkskin cloth. Sharkskin is perfect for curtains, tablecloths, and napkins since it is lightweight and wrinkle-free. Sharkskin is a popular fabric for worsted bespoke suits, light winter jackets, and coats for both men and women. In diving suits and wetsuits, sharkskin is often utilized as a lining.

The Bespoke Herringbone Weave

Herringbone is a road-building design that dates back to the ancient Roman Empire. The bricks were set in a zig-zag manner to create a V-shape or crisscross design. This was due to the crisscrossing pattern's ability to condense traffic and allow for easy movement. Herringbone weave, on the other hand, can be traced all the way back to ancient Italy, where it was utilized for tailoring, it gained popularity in the weaving business as menswear grew more prominent. Herringbone has withstood the test of time and is still utilized to create some of the most popular ensembles, especially suits and skirts.

 Different types of textiles can be used to create a herringbone weave. It's simply a design with a distinctive V form. The pattern is divided into columns, with each column's lines leaning in different directions. Herringbone is the name of distinctive chevron-patterned twill fabric. Herringbone is a zigzag pattern that reverses every few rows to create a skeleton-like pattern, hence the name. It's a popular suit and high-fashion design, as well as sportswear.

 Clothing with a herringbone weave is quite popular. It is utilized in the manufacture of high-end bespoke suits, coats, and gowns. The following are some of its most common applications:

  ●          Herringbone suits are a terrific alternative for guys who wear business professional attire on a daily basis. The herringbone weave is subtle whether woven with blue worsted or charcoal wool. This offers the suit a fashionable appearance while maintaining the characteristics that distinguish it as an official dress code.

●          Tuxedos are formal apparel that may be made with the herringbone weave. Satin-faced lapels, satin buttons, and a satin side-stripe down the trouser leg are all missing from suits. Tuxedos, on the other hand, do. The jacket, lapel, and pants are all made of the same cloth in a suit.

●          Sportcoats are informal, which is why they're perfect for showing off herringbone in all its vibrant splendor. Herringbone weave is used in a lot of everyday spot coat fabrics like donegals and simple tweeds. Sportcoats of this kind go nicely with jeans, sweaters, and casual pants.

 The Bespoke Birdseye Weave

Bird's eye is a cotton fabric woven on a dobby loom that has a tiny, repeated woven pattern that looks like diamonds or, more often, a bird's eye. This fabric was initially created using cotton or linen and is suitable for a wide range of clothes, however, it is most commonly seen in men's suits. A weave that creates small-scale diamond shapes, each with a dot in the middle, like a bird's eye. A small-scale that is usually geometric is the design of a comparable form is also available. 

The Bespoke Tropical Weave

Tightly twisted strands are used to create a plain weave. Mohair from Angora goats is used for part of the wool in several tropical-weave suits since it is lighter than sheep's wool but still holds up well.