#flirting like husband and wife already

[anhonestdaysworkcomic]

I’m updating my art fight profile rn and I’ll realizing how little I’ve drawn the farm family

[maskedbyghost]

i keep thinking about an arranged marriage with simon. maybe it’s for a mission or something that benefits both of you, and neither of you is making a big deal out of it. once you get what you need, you'll get a divorce, no strings attached. but as soon as simon signs those papers, he’s already thinking about baby names, and the house he’ll build for you both to grow old in. and what do you mean, lovie, you want separate rooms? don’t you see the ring on your finger? turn around so he can be a big spoon. a man’s flirting with you? wait in the car, he just needs a quick word with him. don’t worry about his bloodied knuckles once he gets back. of course, it’s all for professional reasons, but he still calls you his wife, missus, even behind closed doors. you made dinner just because you felt like cooking? what a good wife you are. now spread your legs on the table, he’s craving something sweet now, he just wants to thank his wifey properly. and when the mission’s over and you finally get the green light to divorce, you feel a wave of relief when he lights the papers on fire right in front of you. he’s won, but you don’t care anymore, you've never felt this kind of bliss, not until you were with him. you’re back in your shared room, and he’s reciting his vows between your thighs, exactly where he belongs, like a real husband should.

----------------------------------------------------

i want him. that's it.

[cosmiic-world]

jealous, jealous, jealous girl — love and deepspace men

when someone tries flirting with your boyfriend in front of you. or when someone tries flirting with his girlfriend.

content: fluff, jealous!reader, rafayel gets jealous, very lighthearted, sylus’ is slightly suggestive toward the end, maybe kinda ooc?, some might be longer than others i do have favorites unfortunately, sorry 😞, colonel caleb mentioned EHEHHEHE

sylus

sylus had invited you to accompany him to an auction in the N109 Zone, to which you had agreed. of course, he already had a dress picked for you, fitted perfectly with all your measurements.

it was a beautiful black dress with red accents, totally sylus. you were adorned in stunning red jewelry, from blood red teardrop diamond earrings, to a stunning red heart pendant necklace.

as you walked beside sylus through the hall of the auction place, his arm was around your waist the entire time, not one second spent away from you.

unfortunately, that wasn't stopping any of the women there from staring at your boyfriend. nor did it stop one from approaching.

you watched silently from sylus's side as she tried talking to him with stupid small talk.

"you're so tall!" the woman squealed annoyingly. her voice was like glass shattering in your ear drums. "how tall are you exactly?"

"i believe his height is none of your concern..” you spoke up finally, fed up with her attitude. seriously, you were literally attatched to him and she’s paying you no mind at all! your eyes hardened, glaring at her with the most nasty look you could conjure.

sylus watched with an amused smirk, his heart almost skipping a beat at how possessive you were being.

“and who are you?” the woman says, crossing her arms as she finally looks at you.

“i’m his wife.” you said, lifting your hand which was adorned with a ruby ring. though it was just for show, she didn’t have to know that.

sylus’s smirk widened, if that was even possible, as his heart soared. he could’ve sworn his pants were suddenly a tad bit too tight now.

“i don’t appreciate you flirting with my husband right in front of me, so i’m kindly asking you to leave.” you said, using two fingers to flick them in her direction as an act of dismissal, as if she were staff.

you grinned triumphantly as the woman scoffed and stomped away.

“my wife, hm?” sylus said, leaning down to mutter in your ear. you could just tell he was so turned on just from his tone alone. “what a feisty kitten.”

“she couldn’t tell who you were here with. i had to make sure she knew.” you said, giggling as you cupped his cheek with one hand and kissed him deeply.

sylus couldn’t help but groan against your lips as you pressed your body against his. his hand grabbed your waist tightly, almost desperately, as he kissed you in the middle of the room. “we’re leaving immediately.”

“but what about the protocores? the auction?” you said as he grabbed your hand and began to drag you out of the building.

“there are more urgent matters to attend than protocores.” he said, almost growling mid sentence.

rafayel

another “masterpiece” painted by rafayel, another boring exhibition he had to attend. it was all the same. he had to talk about his pieces, what inspired him, what the story is behind the piece, blah blah blah.

this exhibition was different because he had you by his side to distract him from all the boring stuff. he stood by on the side, watching as you walked around, admiring each of his new paintings, which were all inspired by you.

all was fine until a man approached his girlfriend. his eyebrows instantly furrowed and his smile turned into a deep frown. just who was this guy??

“big fan of art?” the man said as he stepped into the spot beside you, a little too close for your comfort.

you looked at him slightly wide eyed, a bit startled from the sudden interaction. you smiled politely and nodded as you slightly stepped away from him, putting space between you and him. “yeah, i’m uh, close to the artist, you could say.”

“oh really? i happen to love rafayel’s works.” he said, smiling at you widely.

you nodded with a small, “ah, nice.” as you looked back at the painting in front of you which showed the silhouette of a woman standing in front of the ocean, capturing the essence of joy and warmth. little had you known the woman was yourself and rafayel had painted it simply from his memories alone.

“i’d like to take you out sometime-“

“sorry babe, i got held up with talking to some people back there.” a familiar voice sounded from behind you.

you turned and smiled widely as your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist. you couldn’t see but rafayel was glaring daggers at the man behind you, forcing him to walk away.

“rafayel! hi, i missed you.” you giggled as you hugged him. “say, who’s that in the painting?”

“you seriously don’t recognize her? come on, you of all people should know who that is.” he said with a chuckle.

“i should?” you said, blinking owlishly as you racked your brain to who that could be.

“it’s you, silly.” he said, kissing your forehead.

“really?! when did you paint it?” you gasped, looking back at the painting and leaning your head against him.

rafayel rested his chin on top of your head, smiling fondly as he recalled the memory. “i painted it a couple days after i took you to the beach. remember? you almost got stung by a jellyfish.”

you gasped and giggled at the chaotic memory. “oh i remember now!”

zayne

a friend from the association had invited you to a party and you were able to bring zayne with you. though he usually didn’t like to spend his days off like this, if it was for your enjoyment, he’d do anything. even if it was sitting through slightly drunken babble of hunter work.

zayne knew you could handle your alcohol, way better than him, but he still mentally counted how many glasses of wine you’ve had before it was time to call it quits for you.

unbeknownst to him, one of your female colleagues was staring at him, watching his every move like a hawk. it wasn’t until she sat next to him that he paid any attention to her.

“hello~ i’m ava.” she said, smiling and practically beaming at him.

“hello.” he said with a curt nod, before turning his attention back to you who was engaged in a conversation with other hunters, listening.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry. i don’t mean to be so rude! what’s your name?” the male hunter asked zayne.

“i’m zayne. i’m her boyfriend.” he said with a small polite smile.

“you’re the boyfriend we’ve heard so much about? wow!!” he said, astonished.

zayne chuckled softly. “it seems so.” he said, looking at you with adoration.

“you’re one lucky girl!” he said to you, giggling before turning back to zayne. “i’m tyler, her colleague.” he introduced himself.

you looked at him and smiled widely, wrapping your hands around his arm and leaning against him affectionately. “he’s a doctor, so he always takes care of me. especially when i get injured from pesky wanderers.” you said, smiling.

“can you take care of me too~? my doctor is too busy sometimes.” ava said from beside zayne, pouting and slightly leaning towards him.

zayne’s expression steeled as he turned to her. “maybe you should get a different doctor then. i too am busy most days so it wouldn’t be any different, if i were your doctor.” he said in his usual formal tone.

you whipped your head to look at ava, glaring at her. you never got along with her, and zayne knew. she was usually the topic of your conversations when zayne listened to your end of the day rants.

tyler began to ask zayne questions, moving the topic away from her, though it didn’t stop her from butting in and making her own comments, to which you were quickly getting fed up with.

“how long have you two been together for?” tyler asked you both.

“almost a year. our anniversary is coming up soon.” zayne said, holding your hand in his, his thumb gently rubbing your hand.

“a year is practically nothing! i bet i can make you happier than she ever could.” ava remarked, taking a sip of her wine.

everybody quieted down at the comment.

as zayne opened his mouth to speak, you stood up and slapped ava.

“i’m getting sick of you flirting with my boyfriend, right next to me. but disrespecting our relationship? nobody likes you ava, and i suspect this is why. i gave you a fucking chance because i wanted to be nice, but i have had enough.” you spat out, the anger sobering you up a good amount.

you immediately grabbed your things from your chair and zayne followed suit. “i’m sorry tyler, but i have to go. i’ll see you at work, yeah?”

“y-yeah..” tyler said, almost stunned. you could tell he was trying not to laugh. “see you at work, girl!” he said.

“come on zayne, let’s go.” you said, grabbing his hand firmly and walking out of tyler’s house.

once you were outside of tyler’s house, zayne had stopped you. “let’s rest here for a bit. you’ve had a lot to drink and i don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.” he said softly, holding you by your waist as he leaned against the wall of the house.

you smiled widely as you leaned against him, your hands resting on his shoulders. “my zayne.. you always know how to take care of me.” you giggled out.

“of course. as your boyfriend, it’s my job to make sure you’re okay.” he said, smiling softly.

“you’re a bit too charming though,” you said with a pout, “you make women swoon too easily.”

“ah, but i have a very skilled ms. hunter to make sure they know i’m happy in my relationship.” he said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you put your hand over his, your fingers feeling his bare ones which made you pout. “maybe i should get you a ring so even when i’m not around, they know you’re taken.”

zayne chuckled softly, nodding. “i assure you, they know. but we can still go get rings, if you’d like my love.”

“i would like that very much.” you said, smiling widely before kissing him.

xavier

you knew xavier was a very jealous man, but he couldn’t help it! almost everywhere you went together, he kept you close to him, an arm always around you. what he didn’t expect was for you to be the same kind of jealous, almost worse than his even.

you were out grocery shopping with him when you had separated from him to look for something you needed for tonight’s dinner plans. he was strolling down the produce section when a woman walked up to him, seemingly lost.

“excuse me sir, do you know where i can find the meat section?” the woman asked him, her painted lips fixed in a pout.

xavier looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. the meat section was right behind her. he simply pointed behind her with his finger. “it’s right behind you.” he said with an almost dumbfounded look.

“oh silly me! thank you, mister…?” she trailed off, discreetly asking for his name.

“xavier.” he said, with a small nod and a polite smile.

“what a cute name for a cute guy!” she said, giggling.

“oh, thank you miss. but i have to get back to m-“ she cut him off before he could finish.

“i’m stella! say, would you like to accompany me to dinner?” she said, smiling widely and batting her eyelashes.

“oh, i-“

“he would not like to accompany you anywhere.” a familiar voice rung out, and suddenly the atmosphere became chilly. xavier almost startled as you sauntered up next to him, wrapping your hands around his arm.

“he’ll be too busy with his girlfriend.” you said, shooting an icy glare at the woman.

“oh! i didn’t know he had a girlfriend. sorry.” stella said before walking away from you both.

xavier let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, thinking he was finally in the clear. but he wasn’t. “thank-“

you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips. “don’t. speak.” you said coldly, grabbing the shopping basket from his hands and walking to the check out lines.

“did i do something wrong?” xavier asked.

“you talked to her. you might as well have been making out with her or something.” you said as you sulked.

“my love, it didn’t mean a thing.” he said, trying to reconcile. “i promise you.” he said, wrapping his arms arouns your waist.

“i’ll poison your food as revenge.” you said, pouting angrily.

“i’m sorry, i really mean it.” he said, pouting back at you.

you sighed as you turned to him. “no fair!” you said before shaking your head. “fine. i forgive you. but i’m still angry with you!”

xavier couldn’t help but laugh softly. “i’m perfectly fine with that.”

caleb

after making up with him after his sudden reappearance, you found yourself at home, missing caleb more than ever. how could you not?

so you decided to pay him a visit at the farspace fleet headquarters. you got there once, you could do it again, right? right. and you did, with ease.

what you didn’t expect was a cadet in front of his quarters, folded note in her hand, her other hand in a fist, hovering over the closed door. “excuse me, cadet. what’s your business here?” you spoke with authority you didn’t have. (but she didn’t have to know that.)

her head snapped toward you, fear flashing in her eyes for a brief second before venom replaced it. “i came to give colonel xia an important document.” she said, shoving the piece of paper behind her.

you couldn’t help but let out a condescending chuckle. “a document so important it had to be folded like a love letter?” you said, trying not to laugh.

at your teasing tone, her expression soured further. “who even are you? i’ve never seen you around here.” she spat out, looking you up and down.

“i’m colonel xia’s girlfriend.” you said matter-of-factly, crossing your arms and pointing your nose up.

the cadet suddenly burst out into a fit of laughter, making you falter slightly before you felt irritated. how dare she laugh in your face like that??

before you could mutter another word, you felt a strong presence appear right beside you. “cadet.”

the girl in front of you stopped laughing almost immediately, her body rigid as she looked up at the man who just walked up next to you. “c-colonel xia..!”

“care to share what’s so funny, cadet?” you looked up to see caleb practically glaring at the now shaking girl in front of you, his jaw tense. you swore you could see his blood vessels about to burst.

“it was nothing, colonel xia.” she said quickly, her eyes now set toward the floor.

“get out of my sight cadet. the next time i catch you disrespecting my girlfriend, i will find a suitable punishment for you.” he said coldly before dismissing her, grabbing your hand and taking you into his quarters.

as soon as the door closed, caleb hugged you with the most warm smile that you’ve come to known, as if nothing had happened. “what are you doing here, pips?” he said, relishing in your giggles as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“i missed you, silly. isn’t it normal for a girl to visit her boyfriend at work when she misses him?” you said, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him tight.

“boyfriend, huh? now i like the sound of that.” he said, kissing your cheek gently.

“i have to fend off these girls somehow.” you said, smiling widely.

i’m sorry if this is lowk ass, i didn’t know what to write for caleb 💔💔

[bunnis-monsters]

Late night thoughts about incubus husband…

He’s such a flirt. Every time you go out he dons a different human disguise. It’s always annoying seeing him flit about the bar, changing himself to cater to whichever person he’s talking to.

Really, your husband just wants to make you jealous. He’s a bit of an attention whore, and usually you’d just tug him away and ride his cock until he’s sensitive and crying, begging to fill your cunt with his cum but being denied because of how bad he was.

But he went a bit too far tonight.

You were finishing off your drink when you spotted him across the bar, his fingers twirling a woman’s hair. Already this was a bit much for you, and you stood to stop him.

But you froze in place when his eyes glanced towards you before he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Looks like I’m taking home a pretty lady tonight. Don’t worry, my wife won’t mind.”

He glanced back to gauge your reaction, excited to face some kind of kinky punishment for being a flirty brat… but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

Instantly the woman was forgotten as he followed you out. “W-wait, please, you know I wasn’t being serious, right? I was just-“

You turned on your heels, pointing a finger into his chest. “Maybe to someone like you marriage is just some kind of fun game, but it actually means something to me! I don’t exactly enjoy you treating my love for you like a joke!”

His eyes went wide with shock and hurt, his disguise disappearing as he reverted back to his original form. The sight of his tail twitching nervously almost made you soften… almost.

“My love… that’s not-“

You swatted his hand away, storming off. “… find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I… need to rethink some things.”

Your husband stared at your back as you left, his chest aching in a way it never had before. Could this really be the end of your marriage? No, no of course not. You loved him, and he would do anything for you. There’s no way such a small issue could divide the two of you that easy… right?

Oh how wrong he was.

When he attempted to come home the next night, his clothes and personal items were packed up on the porch, and the locks were changed.

This wasn’t something he could just smooth over with a few kisses and a good fuck. You were genuinely upset, something he could barely comprehend.

Upset? Why, because he was being a bit of a brat? His view only changed when he was complaining to a friend through tears and a glass of wine.

“Well, what would you do if she did the same?”

The glass shattered in his hand, his pupils turning into slits. The image of you walking up to a man, cooing and attempting to seduce him right in front of your husband made his heart boil in a jealous rage.

So that’s how you felt…

“I’m an idiot…” he murmured, looking at your picture. When he married you, he swore off ever having sex with another person. You were his sole source of sustenance and love, his only reason to breathe and live.

If he lost you, what would he even do besides sob until his heart stopped?

If he wanted to keep his beloved, he’d have to win you back…

Fortunately, the incubus knew just what to do.

Part 2? And should I go the yandere route or normal route?

—————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

[amaranthinespirit]

Hi! Request for the husband!simon and murderer!reader, your latest post mentioned we've never killed a woman.

But what if Simon comes home to another one of your killings but this time it's a barista/or just a woman who wouldn't get the hint that Simon is happily married.

husband!simon riley discovering your latest kill is the barista from his favorite coffee shop

simon has a certain coffee shop he frequents to get his morning coffee—typically when he wants to let you sleep in because he prefers you to make his coffee to him. you just have a magic touch.

the coffee shop is the next best thing, and while it's not quite as good as how his sweet wife makes it, it'll do. sometimes, on his way home, he'll stop and grab you a sweet drink and a treat—you'll need the energy for later.

but lately, he's noticed this one barista in particular that just won't get the hint he has a ring on his finger and a perfect wife at home to match it.

sure, the barista is pretty—but not to his standards. everyone pales in comparison to you. he worships the ground you walk on and kisses your feet.

every day he goes in, and she's there, she won't miss the opportunity to tighten her apron around her waist, bat her lashes while biting her thin bottom lip, and speak with a sweet voice that makes his stomach roll. (he prefers his wife in an apron—typically because she doesn't wear anything under it when he asks her).

she leaves hearts on his to-go cups that he disposes of once he transfers it to a tumbler with a kiss print on the outside from your red lipstick. she gives him her employee discount. more money to spend on equipment to dispose of your bodies, not the tip jar.

simon ignores all of this, but he also doesn't tell you. he figures you're already stressed as is and doesn't want to add a petulant and persistent twenty-something girl to the mix.

next thing he knows, she's scribbled her number on his cup, encased in a heart. he knew they had to write personal messages to increase customer connection, but this seemed a bit of a reach.

i mean, come on. 'xxx-xxx-xxxx call me x' is a little excessive.

he scowled at it, resisting the urge to squish the cup under his palm. he turned away without another word, but he did send you a picture this time before promptly throwing it away—the coffee still inside. who knew what she had done to it.

simon didn't question when you wanted to know her name. meek curiosity, he assumed, but what an incorrect assumption it was.

arriving home was always a guessing game because you don't tell him when you've lured another man to his demise. don't wanna keep records of it, simon would tell you. just in case.

every day, he'd take a guess on if you've killed or not. so far, he hasn't been wrong. maybe he can just tell whenever you're in that type of mood, but his reward is giving you the same number of orgasms as his streak. he's currently at nine.

when he pulled into the driveway, he was thinking that he would find a large body belonging to a man, too close to your rug—which he would scold you about by edging you mercilessly.

what he wasn't expecting was the body of the barista that always flirted with him, and you wielding a knife as you stared at him like it was his turn.

boy, did that make him hard.

standing there with a bloodied hand on your hip, red dripping from the knife as you waved it slowly back and forth through the air, as if taunting him. "got something to explain, si?"

his expression contorted to one of confusion, looking between you and the body before relaxing with a chuckle. "jealous, luv?" he stepped closer, pulling the knife from your hand and letting it clatter to the floor.

his rough hands found your hips, rubbing himself against your front as he trailed kisses from your jaw and down your neck. "new perfume?" he diverted.

"si. don't distract me. are you hiding something?" you tried to keep a straight face as you scolded him, but how could you? your husband was dangerously irresistible.

he chuckles again. "only tha' she's been botherin' me for t'long." his voice is gruff. "if y'didn't handle 'er, I would'v."

"oh." a frown pulls at your face. "why didn't you tell me? I would've killed her a lot sooner—"

you yelp as simon suddenly takes you over his shoulder, followed by a giggle as you struggle for a grip against his shirt. a whine of his name only earns a slap to your rear.

"c'mon, luvie, got'a get ya cleaned up." he starts in the direction of the bathroom, where he would personally scrub the blood from your body. somewhat like he had to do the first time you killed. clueless thing. "need ta stay pretty f'me, yeah?"

he'll take care of the corpse a bit later, if it meant cleaning you up personally. and delivering...ten orgasms as his reward for keeping his streak.

[simpjaes]

dtf.― p.js , s.jy

Jake isn’t a fucking cuck, but damn if you don’t look good with Jay on you like that. Yes, Jay. His arch nemesis. The stupid toned-muscle, nice car driving, fat cock throbbing, pretty lips and seductive voice having, bitchass neighbor… or the one where jay is a super cocky rich neighbor who really, really doesn’t care if jake, your husband, knows how badly he wants to not just fuck you, but both of you. The only thing better than one brat to jay just so happens to be two brats.

PATREON REQUEST | MDNI

WORDCOUNT― 7.4k

PAIRING― sim jaeyun x afab reader (ft.neighbor brat tamer park jongseong)

CONTENT― neighbor au, husband jake, threesome, smut, jayke action, jay tops everyone, jake only tops you.

DISCLAIMER ― there is a lot of emphasis on jayke and the reader is cucking them. i got feral for a bit, pls forgive. 

NOTE― JAYKE GIRLIES RISE. p.s. Not entirely proof read, i struggled a lot writing a threesome this time, idk why ;-; pls forgive lil ol sj 

SMUT TAGS ― threesome, guy on guy action, anal fingering , pussy eating, cock sucking [jake throats him], overstimulation, jay is a bit more dominant but all three of them are practically a pile of jelly, raw grinding, double vaginal penetration, dick against dick stuff, some guiding/hair tugging [jake receiving], cream pie, squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake stares through his living room window, knowing damn fucking well why his neighbor is outside pretending to pull weeds in his back garden right now. The fact that said neighbor is very aware that Jake is watching him? 

It’s pissing him off.

Jay, the cocky, toned torso, asshole is trying to push his buttons standing out there with his shirt off. He just knows it. Those smirks aren’t unnoticed. What’s worse is that those smirks are always directed at him, right before Jay’s eyes are all over you. Jake’s beloved, his fucking wife. 

The fact that the idiot next door thinks he’s really gonna do something is borderline psychotic. Being so open about it, so blatantly confident?

All he has to do is fucking ask, but no. He’s being sneaky. Jay flirts with you behind his back, the dude brings you the mail before he can even get outside to do it himself, he brings over extra groceries, he does this, he does that…all because he thinks he can like…have an affair with you or something?

An idiot, is what that guy is. A very, very attractive idiot. It’s not like you and Jake are against having fun with a third, it’s just the fact that Jay is sitting here like you’re some trophy to be won when you’ve already got a goddamn ring on your finger. What’s crazier is that if you were anyone other than you, and Jake was anyone other than him, Jay very well may have already been in a full-blown affair with the wife of whatever neighbor he’d have.

And so, Jake watches, he studies. He knows you’re out back with your book, half naked, specifically because you find it funny that, for once, your husband is jealous.

“You’re taking it personally, he’s just being nice.” You told him months ago. “Jake, Jake. Look what Jay brought over!” You had squealed with glee just last week, presenting him with a cute little row of macaroons. “Don’t be silly, he doesn’t check me out.” You have said at least a million times, knowing full well it’s a lie.

Both of you are very aware of the way you defend him for the sake of possibility.

Well then, what’s this? Jake argues in his head, watching Jay practically turn his head like the fucking exorcist to get an eye full of you lying out under that tree. At this point, Jay isn’t allowed to be a third. 

Trying to get his wife to cheat on him?! Hell no. 

And the weeks go by with this idea in Jake’s head. Now, he wakes up at the crack of dawn and waits for the mail. Now, he comes home with extra groceries neither of you need. Now, he mows the lawn perfectly, quicker than Jay mows his. 

He isn’t going to win you over this way, ever. Maybe, if Jay didn’t have such an ego, this would have been a lot more fun. 

Except, Jay kind of does win. Jake mows the lawn, suddenly Jay is planting flowers and offering to plant some for you. Jake checks the mail? Jay gives you coupons from his own stash just in case. Jake comes home with more groceries? Jay just brings you home cooked meals now. 

You’re aware of what’s happening, it’s only a matter of time before you let this guy get some. Hell, even Jake knows it. He doesn’t like it, but he knows you do.

It’s the fact that Jake knows the types of men you’re into. If this guy wasn’t so cocky, always trying to one up him, maybe he’d have told you to run along next door and have some fun. But it’s war now. 

Full blown war.

Even when you giggle at his anger after weeks upon weeks of petty activities. Trying to calm him down and butter him up, all “C’mon babe, ill even moan louder for you.” and “You’re probably bigger anyway, imagine putting him in his place by fucking me.”

The idea is…nice by this point, after all, how else can Jake win? Because he knows how to fuck his wife, and he’s very, very good at it. Jake won’t be the one inviting him in though, no. Nor will you.

If anything, the idea of embarrassing Jay, making him think he’s won the war by getting you to sleep with him only to realize Jake has been waiting for it to happen? 

Now that– that would be hilarious. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It takes the better part of six months for all of this turf war shit to come to a head. Jake almost laughs, watching Jay act like he’s in it for the long run. As if his wife hasn’t been giving him signals since he agreed to the little deal with you. 

“If we let Jay fuck you, you better tell him I’m better.” He had argued. Not at all hurt that you want to sleep with the guy, more hurt that it would demolish his ego to not be able to look Jay in the eye and show him how insignificant his role is. 

You nodded. And now, six months later with that fucking asshole next door constantly thinking he’s closing in on you, Jake senses the sin in the air. 

“Babe, it’s happening!” You had whisper-shouted quickly into the phone before hanging up.

Naturally, Jake was home in record speed, slamming through the front door and rushing to the bedroom. And there it is. Jay jumps back with wide eyes, cock hanging out of his pants as if he’s so guilty, as if this wasn’t his intention. You, smirking on the bed, completely nude, legs spread. 

Oh, you sure got his attention this time, and Jake eyes down both of you, trying so hard not to smile. 

“It’s not w-” Jay goes to explain himself, face going flushed and hair all fucked up as he stands awkwardly with his hands covering his cock.

Arguably, Jake kind of thinks he looks…well…he gets it. He’ll never admit it to you, nor to Jay, but he gets it. Jay  is pretty…he’s maybe even thicker than him too, and his body is toned and near pristine, oh…his mouth.

“It’s about fucking time.” Jake rolls his eyes more at himself than at the neighbor, already lifting his shirt off and flicking his eyes to you. “Was starting to think you really thought you could fuck my wife without me.” 

Jay is stunned at first, that’s kind of exactly what he was thinking. Yet– Oh, so the two of you are into this? He was starting to wonder why Jake never came over to kick his ass after consistently trying to get at you. Now he looks between you and your husband, eyes narrowed, smirk appearing. 

“Wait,” Jay says, ignoring the way you both can see his cock twitch with interest as he moves his hands away from whatever shame he was feigning. “You’re a fucking cuck? Honestly, I should have known.” 

So he still wants to be a cocky asshole about this?

“Oh, no. No, no.” Jake laughs, groping himself as he closes in on Jay. “You will be the one watching.” 

Jay rolls his eyes, nodding as if this is some sort of joke. 

“Right, right.” He nods, then looks at Jake, scanning his torso before arguing. 

“You don’t think it’s weird how wet she already is? I barely touched her–and you.” Jay glances down at Jake’s bulge now, watching how the man rubs against it. “You got hard looking at me, not her.”

Silence. 

Jay’s not embarrassed like he was supposed to be. Actually, he’s well aware that he’s right.

Jake stares at him, you stare at him, and he leans back, stretching his arms out before scratching the back of his head. 

“If I knew you both wanted me–” He breaks the silence, dropping his eyes to Jake’s bulge again, “maybe i’d have come for you first. Smooth out the friendship, then fuck your wife.” 

Why is Jake’s stomach bubbling?

And you. You’re just watching it unfold. Two very beautiful men standing in front of you, gripping their cocks, semi-arguing not just about fucking you, but….fucking each other? About who the cuck is when clearly, it’s you right now?

Oh, Jake’s gonna love him. You think he already does, actually, because you see the way his lip is quivering from here. He does that when he wants to pounce, when he wants to be kissed. You know him well enough, you see his interest, his attraction to the neighbor. All that petty competition turned him to mush within seconds of Jay not backing down. 

“Kiss him,” You mumble from the bed, tracing your fingers up and down your thigh. “Jakey, kiss him. He’s really good at it.”

The best part is, you expected Jake to be in one of his moods. When he’s aggressive, bruising with every touch and kiss, but this is…very unexpected. It’s the opposite actually. This is rare even for you to see your husband become docile, nearly submissive. To watch him act like this especially when you have a third in the room. He’s never given up his control when someone else is involved, unless of course, the third is a woman. 

The fact that it’s towards Jay is a bit more unexpected. They’ve been silently beating the shit out of each other through domestic acts for so long now, you can argue that Jay will probably hold this over his head forever if it continues. 

Toxic masculinity, all that. The competition between men can be very sexy on its own when it involves your body, but seeing your husband practically roll over and be vulnerable too? How lucky for both of you to have someone like Jay living just across the yard. 

You can see it in the neighbor’s eyes, someone who is not only willing to participate, but will participate, will take over, will not back down.

Jay’s won the war, but Jake doesn’t really care as much now that he’s seeing what you see in him. Hell, he didn’t even know the guy likes dudes, and the fact that he said he should have gone for him first? 

Jake is his type? 

Well, Jay is your type, and he’s your husband’s type, and you are their type. 

Isn’t this kind of…great?

“Yeah, kiss me.” Jay finally cuts into the silence, waiting for Jake to make his move, the one that will make him give in, the one that’ll essentially land him in the throne that reigns over both of you. 

How funny is it that Jake does lean in to kiss him? Jay watches, not at all closing his eyes despite watching Jake close his own. Probably to be passionate, probably to let his own desire take hold. Not quite yet though, Jay thinks. As he can feel Jake’s breath on his cheek, his eyes shoot to you and his hand shoots to the back of Jake’s hair. 

He pulls it, keeping eye contact with you as he now, pushes your husband down. He keeps Jake’s face close to his body, making sure he can feel his lips run all the way down, straight against his cock. He holds his head there for a moment, letting it twitch against Jake’s lips before he pushes him down further, sitting him on his knees. 

Doing that was strangely difficult though. He could tell Jake would’ve done it. Right here and now, leaving you, his own wife, neglected with her legs all spread out on the bed just to suck a cock? 

Thirsty. Both of you. Because don’t think for a second that Jay didn’t see how much you liked watching him do that either. Watching him control your husband. 

“Sit.” Jay says against Jake’s near-pout at the act of being dominated. “You’re going to sit there, and you’re going to watch.” 

Jake finally blinks up at him and the look kind of floors Jay a little bit by the time he finally lands his eyes back on him. Like, goddamn, he’s so, so fucking submissive looking when his eyes go all glassy like that. 

Arguably, Jay is already borderline lustfully obsessed with the idea of fucking you, but your husband? After meeting his glare for so long? There’s something so, so arousing watching him submit like this, all while you’re just lying there, smiling, loving it.

Jay holds back a short chuckle, catching his breath in his throat before he breaks his character even for a moment, showing how much he’s interested too. Gotta stay strong for now. 

“Understood?” He tilts his head instead, keeping that grip in Jake’s hair. 

Jake nods, now looking at you. Almost apologetically, but you smile at him with a short nod as well, spreading your legs even wider as Jay makes his way over. 

“Now,” Jay’s voice goes softer when he speaks to you, one palm landing on your inner thigh and the other against your cheek as he crawls over you. “Where were we?” 

Fuck, what a man. You nearly shiver at the touch alone, noting how he’s acting the exact same way as he was before Jake walked in. He’s not acting, he’s not putting on a show to try and one up your husband again, no. This is just…him. 

Maybe a bit rough around the edges, but he knows what he’s doing. He’s definitely gotten around, surely.

“Ah, right.” Jay mumbles with a smile, leaning down and letting his lips rest against your neck with a hot breath. “You wanted me to play with you for a little bit, didn’t you?” 

You nod again, feeling like if you speak right now, it’ll come out dry and raspy. You did want him to play with you, because if you didn’t ask for it, he may well have already been fucking you when Jake walked in. And that was against the rules. 

There had to be a way to hold Jay off. Especially because he was definitely rushing before. 

“When’s he coming home?” You recall him saying when he walked through your front door. Truly, he wouldn’t have walked in if you didn’t answer the door the way you did. 

Bra and panties, all done up like you were expecting him. He’s a little embarrassed at that though, because he instantly got hard at seeing you like that. Like it was specifically for him. He knew Jake was at work. Who else would it have been for?

He asked that without any indication of you actually seducing him though, it was all assumption. And he was right to assume because, well, he picked up your hints for months. Coming over for sugar wasn’t going to cut it anymore after seeing you open the door like that. You looked at him like that.

 He was going to fuck you this time. Months and months of distant flirting had nearly driven him insane by this point too. 

“He gets off work in about an hour but, let me use the bathroom first–” You had said in a hushed tone, full-on acting, role playing with a man who didn’t realize it was allowed. 

Then, you called your husband with the news as Jay was tearing his belt off on the other side of the bathroom door.

You also recall Jay demanding you take him to your bed when you had tried to go back to the living room. Probably to mark territory or something, and all you could do was comply. After all, your husband was already on his way and you could tell Jay knew he didn’t have a lot of time. He wanted to make it count, no matter how quick he had to be. After all, there was a look in his eye, one that made you feel like he knew it wouldn’t be the only time.

When Jake walked in, your neighbor already had his cock out, slapping it against your clit, grinding up against it, commenting on how pretty you are, how wet you’ve gotten for him, asking how much longer you’re going to make him wait, threatening to put it in and render you breathless– then the door opened, and now here you are. 

“Asked me to play with you, as if you weren’t the one playing games with me.” Jay whispers now, a little more aggressively. “No more rushing now, hm?” He adds, slapping his cock right against your clit again before pulling back. 

“In that case–” Down he goes, happy that he already pulled both that bra and the panties off of you before Jake even got home, nosing his way straight to your quivering pussy.

Before he lets you feel it though, he looks back, making sure Jake is watching, getting a full view of his half clothed ass before nodding. 

“Make yourself useful and get my pants off while I do this.” 

No eyes are on Jake as he does as he’s told. In fact, your eyes are rolling back and Jay’s are looking up at you, feeling Jake try and pull at his pants. His tongue, however, is already working wonders. Licking you up and licking you down, between each fold before sucking your clit in his mouth and making it all sensitive, throbbing. 

Jake does manage to get his pants off for him, and he stays in his place beside Jay now, waiting, watching. Occasionally his eyes glance down, seeing his neighbor’s heavy cock hang there, neglected, leaking little drops onto the bed. 

If Jake was smart about this, he probably wouldn’t be thinking about licking it up, yet here he is, surprising himself time and time again with this side of him. He really, really didn’t expect the situation to turn into this. If at all, he should be the one eating you out right now, he should be the one telling Jay to take off his pants. 

Jay should be the one thinking hard about licking cum up. He should be the one neglected. 

“Y’know,” Jay suddenly groans against you, voice vibrating your clit. “If she was mine, I wouldn’t share her.” He continues, going back in for another long and languid lick against your hole, waiting for you to moan, practically forcing one from your throat when he dips his tongue inside of you. 

And he continues that, closing his eyes this time and focusing on the taste, the feeling of what will soon be wrapped around his cock. It’s like heaven, kind of, having you like this while Jake just sits off to the side. He wonders what your husband must be thinking right now, if he’s into it or growing angry. 

 “Especially not with you.” He finally adds, leaning back from you and studying the mess he’s made so far before turning his head back to Jake. “Look at her, how could you just watch someone do this to her?” 

And, well, the look on Jake’s face kind of bruises his heart a little bit, softens him up. He’s still just blinking up at him, almost as if he’s waiting to be told he can come up from the floor, cock raging so hard in his pants. Jay shakes his head at himself before looking at you. 

“Then again, I probably wouldn’t share him either.” He says as he stands on his knees, presenting his cock to you, grabbing your hand and guiding it straight to him before addressing your husband again. “Come up here.”

Jake practically leaps onto the bed now, getting an eye full of how your hand barely wraps around the girth of this man, and he stares. And stares, and almost entirely forgets that he’s the husband in this situation, this is his room, his bed, and his wife. 

And Jay is his neighbor. His extremely, insufferable, sexy fucking neighbor. 

“Look at you.” Jay seethes as he fixes his posture tall and strong above you, lip tucked between his teeth briefly at the gentle grip you twist around the head of his cock. “Both of you.” He adds, now grabbing Jake by his hair again, this time pulling his face straight to his own.

“You still wanna kiss me?” He says now, Jake nodding instantly. 

You watch the way your husband leans in, almost moaning in relief when his lips meet Jay’s. It’s messy, extremely intimate to see up close like this. It turns you on somehow more to see Jake act the way you do when he’s left you neglected for a few minutes too long. Desperate, kind of argumentative with his pouting and moaning. 

Gripping Jay harder, you urge them on, watching their tongues reach the point of messy drooling, their chins wet, Jake probably tasting your pussy on Jay’s lips. And god, when Jay moans into it, probably due to the speed in which you’re now jerking him off, even you moan in response. 

There’s something about seeing him get into it, ignoring the fact that he’s appeared calm and collected this whole time. 

Yeah, he’s definitely getting into it. He grabs Jake’s hair harder, kisses him deeper when you circle your fist at the head of his cock, collecting the precum so you can slide back down to the base. And fuck, when you watch him now, reaching out, grabbing Jake through his pants? 

You whine, wanting more than just lying here watching.They’re so into it and you’re just…here witnessing it. You want them to kiss you too, you want them both on you, working you open, making you feel good too. But you’re briefly ignored in this moment as Jay starts rutting his hips, fucking your fist at a pace that makes it hard to jerk him off. 

And Jake…god, you knew you married him for a reason. Look at him, barely kissing back now, just slack jawed as Jay palms between his legs for him, licking into his mouth before moving down, kissing his neck, biting his shoulder. 

That’s it. You’re losing your damn mind right now, pulling your hand back and sitting yourself up on the bed. Jay doesn’t even flinch at the loss, and just kisses Jake harder to make up for it. 

 Your eyes stay glued to them as you now move yourself forward, poking and podding your husband first, who ignores you entirely because he’s, well, lost in it. Very into it. Still slack jawed, still reeling from finally being touched. 

You move your attention to Jay, poking and prodding him instead, and he pays attention. Grabbing your curious hand and pulling you roughly against him. You smile at the movement, understanding that he’s clearly still the one in control here, and whining for your husband may not be in the cards right at this moment. 

He’s just like you, you’re just like him. 

Just seconds later, you push back again, wanting to encourage more than this, wanting to see more, feel more. You start working Jake’s pants off and practically push Jay’s hand away from him, only now do they both pause, watching your hands pull out his cock. Still he moans at it, skin on skin, and you hold it there, looking up at him, glancing at Jay, then back down. 

“Stop leaving me out.” You mumble. 

Jake finally snaps out of it at that, lips feeling tingly as he watches you, guilt bubbling up that he lost it there for a second. Jay, on the other hand, is kind of reeling at how jealous the two of you get. Yet, still you’re both entirely into him as much as you are each other, it seems. 

It’s only natural that you’ll whine for Jake when he’s too busy kissing the man who is supposed to be on you right now, but no worries. None at all, Jay likes it. He understands. 

“Awh,” Jay coos, pushing his hips forward and bumping your hand with it, making sure the head of his cock meets Jake’s before continuing the act. Rutting again and again, messing your hand with the mix of precum and arousal. “Did he leave you out?” 

They both did, but something about the way Jay’s voice sounds when he asks, so soft yet still cocky. Charming, because even Jake nods at that before skewing his head to you, dragging his own hand down to hold it over yours before allowing Jay to slide his length into the tight space. 

You feel it when your husband leans in to kiss you now, as if he’s apologizing. Too worked up to say it, and can only act on his apology. Warm lips enveloping yours with a heated, near desperate kiss, then he starts immediately fucking up. You can feel it, the way their cocks meet and keep the mess of hands holding them together slick and wet for this. 

Jay is stuck watching this time, and he can’t decide on whether he should watch the way you manage to overpower Jake in the kiss, or the way you and your husband are both holding both cocks so tightly just so he can fuck up and against the under side of Jake’s. 

Jesus. All three of you have a bit of a pit in your stomach, especially when you manage to slip your hand out and allow Jake to control the mess in the middle as you, now, turn from Jake’s kiss with the intention of kissing Jay now.

Finally, you’re not left out, finally, there’s two cocks out in the open, rubbing against each other with a wet, pornographic sound.

“Oh, needy.” Jay comments when you kiss him just as harshly as you did Jake, you can feel his smirk on your lips but he quickly falls into the kiss too. And that’s when Jake absolutely loses it, finding you so pretty, both of you, so, so, so pretty like that when he’s feeling so good. 

And now, a small pause. You pull back for a breath and get a good look at both of them. Their attention is no longer on each other, it’s on you. Both pairs of eyes shining at you as they continue to jerk their weeping length off against one another, and suddenly, you’re shy. 

There’s a hunger in Jay’s eye, a need in Jake’s, and only now do you lay back again, spreading your legs open wide, and using your fingers to spread your pussy out the same way. 

“Jakey–” You call out to him, wiggling your hips and presenting it to him first, “look–”

Jay shivers when he looks first, seeing how much wetter you’ve become.

“Yeah, Jakey,” He echoes your words, grabbing him by the hair again since he seems to like that and guiding his face straight to your hole, “look at it.”

Being guided isn’t something Jake allows often, but he doesn’t mind so much now with his face being nuzzled into a cunt he knows so, so well by another man. Fuck, he barely was able to catch his breath before it was knocked out of him again. He licks out immediately anyway, and makes himself comfortable, hands and knees, lapping away like a happy little pup. 

Jay studies you closely when Jake does his thing, the way you lazily watch him, the way your chest rises and falls with deep, meaningful moans that shows he knows his way around your body, and he knows how to pleasure it. So, now he averts his eyes to Jake, his body, his waist, his ass.

He’s got so much to work with between the two of you. And so, he pushes Jake’s head into you further, roughly rubbing his nose into the mess, making you moan, and hoping he’s enjoying himself because he’s sure he might pull back when he–

Jake does pull back slightly, but that arch in his back doesn’t go unnoticed either. A saliva slicked finger pushes, circling his rim before pushing in. 

“Fuck–” Your husband groans with a shiver, his cheek against your clit, resting his head briefly there as if to prepare of the welcomed intrusion.

And it goes on like that for a bit longer than you had expected. All of this is happening in a way you weren’t expecting, actually. There’s a sense of control here, but it’s gentle, almost careful with intention. Somehow, Jay’s attention stays on Jake, maybe as a form of apology, or maybe to assert his dominance now that he, at the very least, has you where he wants you. 

Your eyes glisten at your neighbor, blinking at him as he pleasures both of you. He seems to be enjoying himself, looking back at you all while using Jake as an extension of himself, and of course, finger fucking him to the point Jake can’t stop rutting back against the pleasure.

Arguably, Jay may not know what exactly to do with all of holes willing to let him fuck them. But, also, none of you are short on time.

This can happen as many times as you want, hopefully. 

“Mhm, that’s right–” Jay groans now, nearly rolling his eyes at how tightly Jake’s ass hugs his single digit. He reaches around him now rather than guiding his head, holding his waist and leaning over him, aggressively fucking his finger in, finding his prostate in a near instant just to toy with it. 

“You ever heard him cry before?” Jay now averts his eyes to you with an amused tone. 

You shake your head, a mess at how fast Jake works his tongue on you through the pleasure, your hands now finding your way into his hair to rub his nose in it even more. 

“Ever see him cum untouched?” 

Another shake of your head. 

“No?” Jay smiles, tilting his fingers up, assaulting Jake’s prostate and within seconds, you note the way your husband starts writhing between your legs.

His tongue is sloppy, he’s moaning so loudly that he can barely catch his breath, and Jay immediately pulls his fingers out before aggressively lifting Jake up and away from you by his arms, letting you see the cum spurting out of him, sending tremors and shivers from his toes to the top of his head. 

“Oh–” You groan, squeezing your legs together at the image, watching Jake grow frustrated at his ruined orgasm despite the cum still dripping out of him. 

You’ve never seen him look so ruined, and the way Jay presents him to you so proudly kind of…well, he really did it. As if on command, making your husband both cum and cry. There’s clearly some things both of you could learn from Jay. 

“Now, stop neglecting her.” Jay’s tone comes out far more demanding now, ignoring the way Jake’s cock weeps with sensitivity now, once again guiding him, except this time, when Jake holds back as if to rest for a moment, Jay’s demands are directed at you. 

“Fuck him.” 

Well, who would say no to that? 

You take it upon yourself now to push your husband back, letting his head hang off the bed as Jay helps you lay him out, and instantly you sit. Grinding your bare, soaked pussy against his half-flaccid length. 

Jake does whine through it, shooting his hands up to you and not even knowing himself if he wants more, or if he needs you to slow down, or to stop entirely. His hands are frantic, breaths are uneven, his eyes going from wide open, to rolling back, to squeezing shut. 

He looks panicked, confused, stunned.

“Stop thinking,” Jay instructs him, whispering sweetly as he pulls himself off the bed to get a good look at the blood rushing to the top of Jake’s head as it hangs there. 

Your husband is kind of thankful, happy to be a bit mindless in this moment because suddenly, it does feel good, feeling someone so familiar sinking down on him all in one go. So wet, so warm, so his. It doesn’t seem so bad to let someone else think for him right now either.

He tries to lift his head to see you still, but he starts seeing lights, going a bit dizzy as you gently ride yourself on him. 

You are trying to adjust as he grows harder inside of you, stretching you open and giving you the fulfillment you’ve been needing since all of this started. You moan, trying to be compassionate about this, especially knowing he’s about to be toyed with even further, by both of you.

Jay nods at you with a smile, as if encouraging you to go faster, to take what you need from him. 

Then his eyes flick between both of you, cock in hand, he stands up slightly, aligning it perfectly with Jake’s lips. Poor guy is so dizzy he probably doesn’t even notice yet, but Jay communicates with you. That same cocky smirk, a raised right eyebrow, and a tilt of his head. 

He’s asking you for permission…to put it in?

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moan as you bounce and frantically nod your head, trying to regain breath at the sheer idea of it. “Baby,” You groan now, unsure if Jake can even hear you at this point. “Open your mouth.”

You can’t see his face, and god how you wish you could because of Jay’s reaction in particular. The way he taps his cock, pushing forward, probably sliding into his mouth now. It’s the way he holds both sides of Jake’s head when he does it, the way his eyes are laser focused, his abs flexing in silent pleasure, his slow release of a very faint moan.

Man, fuck, you’ve always wanted to see your husband suck someone off, but he never has. He’s only ever allowed it to happen to him, only ever made someone else suck him off.

“Oh, good boy,” Jay moans now at the feeling of Jake’s tongue frantically lapping, despite how crowded his mouth is becoming. And he throws his head back at the pleasure, now going to hold the bottom of Jake’s chin, tilting his head back further to angle the position, thrusting straight down his throat. “So, so good–”

Jay notes how he needs to just, like, shut the fuck up now. Even he, at this point, is losing it. This wasn’t something he actually thought Jake would let happen, yet…look at him. Fuck, look at you. Drinking up the image, eyes so dark and crazed that he’s using your husband like this–

That you’re both using Jake like this.

You’re bouncing, riding, chasing, staring off at him as if you’re some sort of feral animal happy to take what you can get Then, Jake, choking and gagging around him as he moans in pleasure at the same time, spit bubbling out at the sides of his mouth, dripping down and into his hair and he probably loses the ability to think at all if his hands are anything to go by.

Scratching at his own body, gripping the sheets, reaching out for something, for anyone to hold him through it.

All that blood split between his head and his cock…it’s so obvious, and you’re still chasing, getting enough but at the same time, knowing you can have more.

Something snaps in Jay as he watches you. He’s lot the plot a bit, taking a liking to Jake, seeing how far he can push the boundary just because he can, almost forgetting how fucking badly he’s wanted you. 

You. 

He hasn’t even fucked you yet, he seriously let Jake do it first? 

“Jesus,”  Jay groans out of frustration now, fucking into Jake’s throat one last time and holding it there as he stares forward at you. He ignores the choking sounds, the desperate searches for breath only because it feels, so, so fucking good.

 “Alright, alright.”

You’re a bit confused at the way Jay talks more to himself than at you or your husband, but you hear a sputter when he pulls back, walking to stand at the side of the bed and leaving Jake to deal with the aftermath of whatever lashing his throat just took in stride.

You pause your bouncing, watching him curiously.

“Scoot back a bit,” Jay says now, helping you scoot back, helping Jake get his head back on the bed so he can regain whatever humanity he has left in it. 

And then, Jay is positioning himself behind you, allowing you to essentially plant yourself back onto your husband before he’s forcing his own cock in alongside him. Without warning, without helping you stretch out more. 

You fall forward with a yelp, now just as breathless as Jake is when you hug against him tightly, burying your nose in his neck, feeling his heartbeat right against your lips there. 

“Jake,” You whisper as you desperately search for comfort, feeling Jay stretch you out. “Oh, fuck–”

Jake nods his head slightly, now willing to take whatever this guy is going to give to the two of you. After all, he’s taken the brunt of Jay’s attack by now, he’s sure you’ll love it as much as he does. So, he wraps his arms around you in a comforting way, essentially trapping you in place, whispering a short, breathless hum of, “feels so good baby, when you squeeze around us like that–”

That ignites you as you nuzzle further into your husband’s neck, unable to stop squeezing around them. It fucking hurts, it hurts so badly, but–

Fuck. Jake wants it. Jay wants it. 

You want it.

Jay watches the mess in front of him, the way you both writhe and cling as he makes room for himself, fucking roughly forward, sliding with intentional pushes to stretch you open just enough to fit all of him alongside Jake.

Seeing your cunt try and handle it, the way you grip, stretch, and instinctively try to push him out? It’s too much for you, but just right for all three of you, he thinks, as he makes eye contact with Jake and gets a drowsy nod. 

He watches the way Jake holds you tighter, forcing an arch too. Ugh, what a good man he is. 

“Yeah.” He moans, now picking up a rhythm as you both start moaning in near unison, “Hold her just like that for me.” 

And, well, you wanted to be fucked by them both but preferably not like this. At first anyway. You shock yourself when you call out, moaning so loudly it leaves a ringing in your ear. There’s rubbing up against something so sensitive inside of you, both cocks pulsing, stretching you beyond belief, and you…like it?

It feels good now. Too good.

Your moans come out as cries as Jay continues, and both men seem to be falling in love with the sound of it. So much so that, even Jake now ruts his hips up with a cheeky smile, encouraged by Jay’s praise to keep going, all so he can feel you squeeze, and squeeze, and try to push them out. 

And goddamn, does it feel good to have a cock rubbing against him in such a tight, wet little hole. Even Jay now starts whining with you.

Moaning, a mess, all fucking three of you. Finally, Jay has broken out of character, fucking forward fast, hard, near thoughless. It renders Jake unusable as he tenses up under you, holding you through it, babbling out filthy words of how full you must feel now that his cum is spilling out. 

“Feel that, baby?” He whines so quietly, and you do feel it. Arguably, so does Jay.  

You’re barely able to breathe through it, suddenly feeling fingers in your hair that pull you back. You can feel Jay’s chest breathing rigidly on your back, and now you both stare down at Jake.

He looks so lost in it, and yet still, Jay demands. 

Well, he pleads.

“Keep going,” Jay directs at Jake, well aware of his orgasm, slowing his hips to keep himself from cumming too,  and groping both of your tits to hold you in place. “Fuck up, faster, let me feel it.” He continues, now landing a sloppy, drooling bite against your shoulder. 

And you watch your husband, something igniting yet again in his eyes as he does just that, grabbing your hips and letting his hips rut up, freely. 

“Fuck yes,” Jay moans for him before biting against your neck now. “You gonna cum too?”

Okay, yeah, maybe Jay is trying to rush it now. He wants to be the last one to release, and if you don’t get there soon, he’s going to fucking embarrass himself. Thankfully, you nod frantically like a good little wife, dropping a hand down and simply pressing your clit before your legs start shaking. 

Both men feel it, the way you tense up, and they both put all of their energy into it. 

You hold your breath through the orgasm, never having felt so full like this. It just keeps coming, and coming until–oh. 

“Ahh–” Jake looks at you in surprise, lip now pulled between his teeth as he throws his head back again, dizzy, so fucking sensitive. His wife just fucking squirted. 

For the first time, you did it. After years and years of both of you trying to figure it out.

Jay doesn’t even know what to think about it, feeling you cum around him as Jake’s cock struggles to keep up through the pain, all around him and against him, the splash of wet pushing out against him, dripping down onto Jake. 

It’s so messy, so fucking dirty.

Holy fuck. He can’t, he can’t keep holding back.

You’re so sensitive when you fight through it, Jake even moreso, and Jay loves it as his hips demand an abusive pace. Pushing in, out, so deeply, so fucking hard inside of you, mixing around the mess of cum before–

The bruising grip on your hip tells you more than the twitching inside of you, and Jake practically starts crying in pain at the rawness of it all. Jay, shaking, releasing all of it with tight, jerking thrusts before finally, he slumps over you. Sandwiching you between both himself and your loving, exhausted, absolutely docile husband. 

Out of breath, out of fucking mind really, you don’t even move. 

You don’t clean up, hell, you don’t even open your eyes after that as you catch your breath between the tight mess of bodies.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

After that day, things kind of…changed. 

Jake is more needy. He’s still dominant for you when you need it, but it’s kind of a welcome change from time to time. Having him act all sweet and sloppy, as if he can no longer control it when the time is right and you’re looking particularly mean. 

Threesomes don’t take place quite as often these days though. With other people, anyway. As to be expected considering no one has ever actually participated quite like he did.

Jay has also become a bit more gentle too. Still openly getting his eyes on you every chance he gets, but Jake doesn’t mind near as much simply because he knows Jay checks him out too. The sexual tension is always felt between houses, and always satiated in one room or another. 

Once even on the back porch in the dead of the night, but still.

The time spent with Jay now is a lot less…um, erratic. Jay learns the two of you the same way you both learn him, and there have even been a few times since where Jake was the one toying with you both. 

Even a time where you were the one in control. 

It’s comfortable, fun, equal. To the point neither of you really look for a third anymore, after all, you’ve got the perfect match just across the yard, right?

Jay: hey jakey boy, come over, bring our wife

Jake waves his phone in front of your face. It’s been weeks since the last time the three of you played. In fact, Jay has been kind of flaky about it lately, responding too late to texts, or simply declining. 

Nevermind the fact that Jay always claims you as his wife too when things get, well, sexual. It’s not like he doesn’t do the same shit to Jake, calling him his husband, chuckling, being soft about it. It’s the fact that it had been weeks, both you and your husband were starting to feel a bit heartbroken about it, actually. 

And when two of you do go over, expecting lots of sex and even more questions about why Jay is being so weird lately, they’re hit with romance?  With dinner on the stove and candles on the fucking table? 

Jay wants in. 

Commitment.

Permanence. 

[yuujispinkhair]

ILLICIT AFFAIRS

You show me colors I can't see with anyone else

You are stuck in an unhappy marriage, not brave enough to leave your cheating husband. Until you meet Sukuna.

Pairing: Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Word Count: 10k Warnings: 18+, fluff, hurt/comfort, smut, but not explicit, cheating (Reader's husband cheats on her, and later on, she cheats on him with Sukuna). Sukuna is a CEO (or can be read as a Yakuza boss, too). Sukuna + Reader are both in their thirties. The fic title is taken from Taylor Swift's "Illicit Affairs", but in this story, the secret affair has a happy ending. This story is super self-indulgent, but I hope some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it, too! Minors don't interact. Divider @./lovwoung

You often ask yourself what went wrong. How did you end up trapped in this unhappy marriage? Maybe you were too young, too inexperienced, too naive when you met your husband. Maybe you were too insecure, convinced no one would ever want you, and so you gratefully settled for the first man who showed interest in dating you.

Your relationship was never like those romances you knew from books or movies, but you assumed that was just how things were in reality. Your mom, your aunt, and everyone else told you how lucky you were to have finally found a man willing to be with you. How lucky to have found someone with a good job and from a good family. They were also the ones who pressured the two of you to get married, and ever since then, things have gone downhill.

Your husband hasn't shown you any love or affection in years. The only time he shows interest in you is when he wants to have sex, but even that is without any real intimacy. He hasn't kissed you in years, and if he did at this point, you would probably be disgusted by it. There is no love in this marriage.

The worst thing is you know he is cheating on you. You already suspected it when he suddenly had to stay at work a lot longer than usual and when he began to hide his phone screen from you. And then one night, you woke up and walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water, and that's when you overheard your husband talking on the phone with some other woman calling her angel and baby and telling her how beautiful she was.

Even though you didn't love him anymore, it still made your world tumble down around you.

You want to leave him, but you can't. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. You have always found it very hard to make decisions, and this one is huge. You have no idea where to go or how to get by on your own. All your savings went into buying this apartment, and now what?

And it's not just the financial aspect that worries you. Everyone has always told you that you would never survive on your own. They always kept you small, turning you into someone who is dependent on others. You got told that you are weird, not good enough, and incapable of ever taking control of your life. And at some point over the years, you started to believe that. Your self-confidence is non-existent.

You tell your mom about the cheating, and she tells you to stay with your husband.

"It's just a little fling. At least you are lucky that he doesn't want to divorce you. It would be such a financial disaster, and you know how you are. You don't do well on your own. Just stay with him and find joy in other things. Maybe pick up a new hobby. I could give you Kira's number. She just joined a nice Yoga class!"

You don't go to the Yoga class, but you also don't leave your husband. You try to pretend everything is fine. Try to gaslight yourself into thinking that maybe you are really just a hysterical, insecure, and overjealous idiot who misinterpreted things.

The months pass, and you catch him flirting on the phone several times. An annual business event is scheduled, which you always accompany him to, but he tells you it got canceled this year. Only to find out from the wife of one of his coworkers that the event took place as usual, but you and your husband simply never showed up. You know why. He didn't want you there. He didn't want to risk his little affair and his wife running into each other.

You've given up on love by now. You hate seeing ads for romance novels or rom-coms. You stop listening to music because most songs are lovesongs. For all you know, romantic love is just a made-up thing that people sing about and write about, but it's all just lies.

Or maybe it does exist in real life. But not for you. Maybe you simply aren't the type of woman who deserves to be loved. Maybe your mom is right, and you should just accept it.

So you stay with your husband, but you are dead inside.

Until you meet Sukuna.

He is everything you ever dreamed about in your secret fantasies that you started to develop to comfort yourself. A dreamed life, but now it's right in front of you, close enough to touch. Sukuna is a real gentleman. An attractive mix of a bad boy and a successful, serious businessman. Smart, confident, and sexy, with a boyish playfulness beneath his professional appearance.

Ironically, you meet him the night you try to save your marriage.

You are already sitting at the table for two you booked for a date in one of the best restaurants in the city. You put on makeup and spend an hour picking a dress in which you feel at least half attractive. And now you sit here, sipping your red wine, waiting for your husband to arrive, to hopefully bond with him again over a delicious dinner and a few hours where you can talk and maybe laugh together.

Only that your husband never shows up. You have already finished your first glass of wine and received several pitiful looks from the waitress when your phone buzzes with a message. It's your husband telling you he can't make it. "Something has come up at work. I don't know when I will be able to leave. Just have dinner without me."

You stare at the message for far too long, not even knowing how to respond. Feeling utterly humiliated, utterly hurt, and abandoned. Worthless. You know he is going to see his girlfriend instead tonight. His girlfriend, who is young and sexy, and can give him what he wants.

And suddenly, you can't hold back the tears anymore. You blink hastily, wiping angrily at your cheeks, trying everything not to ruin your makeup or have a breakdown in the middle of the crowded restaurant. But the waitress chooses that exact moment to walk up to you with an overly bright smile, asking,

"Excuse me, Madam. Would it be alright if someone joins you at your table?"

You look at her, caught off guard, really not wanting a stranger at your table in this horrid moment, but you are too polite to say no, and so you smile weakly back at her, pressing out in a tear-thick voice,

"Of course, I don't mind."

You wipe your eyes again, trying to will the tears away, as a tall man in a fancy-looking black suit and slicked-back pink hair comes into view. He is snapping at the waitress, clearly annoyed, saying something about how rude it is to forget his reservation and that this will have consequences since he is a regular customer, etc.

But he sits down across from you, still fuming as the waitress bows deeply several times, apologizing profusely for the mistake, promising that the man's food and drinks will be free tonight.

He lets out an exasperated sigh and orders a glass of red wine, which the waitress immediately scrambles to get for him.

You gulp hard, trying to regain composure, hoping you don't look as forlorn as you feel. You lift your head to nod at the man across from you, trying to muster up a polite smile because, after all, you have been trained from a young age to always be friendly.

You take him in and draw in a surprised breath. He is gorgeous. The most attractive man you have ever seen. Tall and broad-shouldered with masculine but beautiful features. Angular jawline, intelligent maroon eyes, and sensual lips that are lifted in a smug smirk as he nods back at you,

"Excuse this inconvenience. I will make sure whoever is responsible will get fired."

And, of course, you splutter and are quick to try doing damage control, not wanting some poor person to lose their job over this.

"Oh no, please, it's no problem at all!"

The pink-haired man laughs softly, a low, husky sound that makes your pulse flutter nervously.

He looks intimidating with his tall height and muscular build, and the tattoos that line his handsome face. But he is distinguished and elegant, wearing a designer suit and an expensive watch. Clearly, he is a regular guest of a restaurant like this.

He looks like a successful CEO (or a Yakuza boss, your mind provides not helpful at all). He's definitely someone in a powerful position, judging by his whole appearance and the dominant and confident aura he exudes. But he also has pastel pink hair, a boyish grin, and a playful attitude that makes him seem not as scary as you first thought.

His wine arrives from a different waitress, and he thanks her politely, telling her,

"Put everything the lovely lady across from me orders on my card."

The waitress is quick to bow deeply with a polite, "Of course, Mr. Itadori," at the same moment, as your eyes widen, and you quickly argue,

"Oh no, please, I can't..."

But he smirks his charming smirk and lifts a large hand dismissively,

"It's the least I can do for ruining your evening in much-wanted solitude."

Much wanted solitude.

His words hit you to the core, making all the sadness well up in you again. If only it were true. If only you were truly a single, independent woman who came here after a successful day at work to enjoy dinner on her own in voluntarily chosen solitude.

But you are none of that. You are an abandoned and unloved wife with a boring job and no money, sitting here at a table for two because your husband ditched you to fuck his pretty little assistant in his office.

And suddenly, the tears are back in your eyes, making it hard to see. You quickly avert your shameful gaze, your hand grabbing your wine glass so tightly it almost breaks.

Your sight is blurry, but you can still see the shocked look on the man's face across from you. His eyes dart away from you but then back again, obviously not used to the company of a crying stranger. He clears his throat before he leans slightly across the table, lowering his voice to a soft murmur,

"Are you alright?"

You feel embarrassment flood you, feeling so mortified at your behavior. You wish the ground would just open up and swallow you! This is so typical of you, ruining this stranger's evening, because you don't have your emotions under control and act like a complete fool. It's something your husband would chide you for or make fun of if he saw it.

"I... I am so sorry! Please just ignore me."

You hate how your voice breaks, and before you can suppress it, a pathetic-sounding sob falls from your lips. You press your hands to your face, sobbing silently into them, trying to hide from the world and from the poor guy who's forced to share this table with you.

But then you feel a tentative touch, a warm hand gently brushing over your arm, and you pull your hands from your face, blinking at your table partner, feeling your lips tremble and your face burning, knowing that you must look so ugly right now with your makeup ruined and tears and snot coating your face.

Another apology is already waiting on your tongue, but he shakes his head, and somehow, it's so authoritative but also gentle that your apology dies on your tongue. Instead, you blink at him, as he cocks his head and watches you thoughtfully, that low voice so smooth and soothing when he says,

"Don't apologize."

You nod, trying to smile gratefully at him, but fail miserably as his kind reaction only causes more tears to fall.

He shoves his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a handkerchief. Not a paper tissue, but an actual handkerchief. He offers it to you, and you reach for it automatically, thanking him. But you freeze the moment your hand wraps around the fabric, realizing it's made out of fine silk.

He raises an eyebrow,

"Please, take it."

"But I... I will just ruin it with my makeup..."

He huffs, a soft smirk lifting his lips,

"I don't care. I'll just buy a new one. Take it. I insist."

"Th.. thank you, sir. That's really sweet of you."

His lips twitch,

"You're welcome. And for you, it's Sukuna, not sir."

You sniffle, pressing his handkerchief against your cheeks as you nod and tell him your name.

His smirk softens to a small smile, and he jerks his tattooed chin toward your empty wine glass.

"Do you want another one of those? Looks like you could use it."

You nod as more tears well up in your eyes, and Sukuna snips his fingers, instantly summoning a waiter to your table as if they are all hovering nearby just waiting for Sukuna to voice a wish.

Five minutes later, you have another red wine to hold on to and sip on, which causes a comforting buzz in your head, and suddenly, it all breaks out of you, and you tell Sukuna everything. You tell him about your failed marriage, about how lonely you feel, how unloved. About your cheating husband. About how pathetic you think you are for not daring to leave him because you have never been on your own before and you have no one who has your back.

You cry and sob and take big gulps of the wine while pouring your heart out to this beautiful stranger sitting across from you. This guy who, despite his intimidating look, is surprisingly gentle with you and who doesn't mind that you stain his silken handkerchief with your mascara and lipstick.

Sukuna actually listens to you. He looks earnestly at you, clenches his jaw when you tell him how your husband treats you, and shakes his head when you say under tears how stupid you think you are.

"No, you aren't. Don't blame yourself. It's him. He is the problem. He is the asshole."

Sukuna is the first one who tells you that you deserve better.

You feel an unexpected relief at finally being able to pour your heart out to someone. And just when you get yourself enough under control again to begin feeling embarrassed at your outburst, Sukuna flashes you a smirk and raises an eyebrow, asking,

"Do you want me to get rid of him for you?"

Which makes you forget the embarrassment and instead stare at him with big eyes and hurriedly splutter,

"Oh my god, no! This is not what I..."

You don't get any further because Sukuna begins to laugh, shaking his head slightly as his eyes sparkle amusedly at you.

"Don't worry. I'm just joking."

You huff a breath of relief, followed by a little laugh. Sukuna's comment managed to pull you out of your little moment of regret, and you feel better again, taking another sip from your wine and even managing to eat a few bites of the meal Sukuna ordered for the two of you, claiming that an empty stomach is never good.

Sukuna is nice to you. It's astounding to you because, with the way he looks with those face tattoos and the slightly dangerous aura surrounding him, you would have never thought a man like him could be so nice. It brings more tears to your eyes, feeling too emotional from all the wine. But you use Sukuna's handkerchief to blot them away.

He leaves with you when you say you have to go home, walks around the table, and pulls out your chair like a real gentleman. He offers you his strong arm when you sway lightly on your heels. He helps you into your coat and accompanies you to the exit.

You stand in front of the restaurant on the busy street, but all you see is Sukuna, who stands so close to you that you can smell his cologne, a sensual, woodsy scent that fits him perfectly, smelling expensive and sexy.

He puts a large hand on your tear-stained cheek, cupping it gently, wiping a few fresh tears away, and you take a step closer to him as if drawn in by a magical force, craving this tender touch, even if it's just a stranger touching your cheek in the middle of a busy sidewalk.

Sukuna is so tall and broad, making you feel so safe somehow, and before you can stop yourself, you lean your head against his broad chest, closing your eyes for a moment and sighing longingly. For the first time in so long, you feel as if you can breathe.

You reluctantly take a step back again, tilting your head to smile up at Sukuna, thanking him again for everything he did for you. And he grins at you and leans down, his lips brushing over your ear, while his hand still caresses your cheek,

"You deserve so much better than your asshole of a husband. Don't hesitate to call or text me when you need a break again."

And with that, he presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. It's such a delicate feeling, so soft and gone again in a split second that you aren't sure if it really happened or if you just imagined it, but it fills you with such warmth that it almost hurts.

Sukuna pulls away with a smirk, and you see a business card dangling from his long fingers. You take it from him with a small, grateful smile.

+++

Several days pass, during which you firmly ignore the business card that's still in your purse.

Waking up the next morning after meeting Sukuna made you feel strange. Guilty somehow. As if you had done something wrong. It's ridiculous, of course. Nothing happened between Sukuna and you. And if someone was supposed to feel guilt, it was your husband. And yet you refused to even look at the business card, feeling like you would be doing something bad if you even so much as entertained the idea of adding Sukuna's number to your contacts.

No, you would never contact Sukuna. You would do as your mom had said. Just accept the circumstances of your marriage and create your own happiness. Maybe you should really find a new hobby. Or maybe you could get a pet? A cat or a dog?

For the next few days, you almost manage to convince yourself that you are fine with your life. You keep yourself busy by researching different cat and dog breeds and starting a new TV show.

But then you walk in on your husband flirting with his affair on the phone again, and you see red. This time, you can't stop yourself from confronting him, from snapping at him and screaming at him under tears to stop it.

It leads to nothing, though. He is so unbothered, so smooth, lying through his teeth, downplaying it, claiming she is just a good friend, making you seem like some nutcase who overreacts at every little thing.

You escape to the bedroom, sitting on the bed, staring off into space as tears stream down your face, feeling so helpless in your rage and misery. What are you supposed to do when your cheating partner refuses to admit he is actually cheating on you?

You wish you had the courage to leave him. Or better, you wish he would take the decision from you and leave you so you won't be the one everyone blames for ending this seemingly perfect marriage! And so you won't have to be the one who makes a decision that will change your whole life.

You yank open your nightstand, searching for some paper tissues. And that's when you see Sukuna's handkerchief again, peeking out from under a package of chocolate cookies.

You brush tenderly over the soft, silken fabric. A small smile lifts your lips as your fingers brush over the initials embroidered on it in one corner in a fancy gold thread. S.I.. Itadori Sukuna.

You let out a long breath, wiping your tears away with one hand while the other holds the handkerchief. And suddenly, the clouds seem to disappear as you remember the warmth you felt when Sukuna cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away. And suddenly you know what you want to do.

You jump up and walk to your dresser, pull it open hurriedly, and yank out the purse you had with you in that restaurant. You open it, impatiently emptying its contents over your bed, until you see the business card with Sukuna's contact information.

On any other day, you would overthink things and take an hour to even make up your mind about what to write, but in the state you are in right now, everything seems so clear.

You grab your phone, add Sukuna's contact, and open a new text message. Your fingers seem to do the work without you consciously having to think about it as they quickly type a message:

"Hey. It's your surprise table partner from last Friday. Thank you again for being so nice to me and for your handkerchief."

You feel triumphant as you place your phone down on your nightstand. And then it buzzes, and your heart jumps to your throat. There's a reply.

"I'm glad you finally texted me. You are very welcome. How are you feeling?"

"I am ok. What about you?"

You cringe at your poor small-talk skills, but Sukuna is surprisingly easy to talk to. He tells you about his day, about business meetings, and what he will have for dinner.

There's a strange feeling spreading through your chest. A kind of longing. You crave the feeling of being near Sukuna again. How safe you felt when leaning your head against his chest for a few seconds. How seen you felt when he listened patiently to you and reassured you.

You want to see him again. Want that feeling again.

"I want to give you back your handkerchief. Where can we meet?"

You know you sound weird as fuck, but it's the only way you dare ask him to meet you again.

"I don't want that handkerchief back, sweetheart. But we should meet up anyway. I quite enjoyed your company. How about you join me again for dinner sometime this week?"

Oh.

Your heart is racing uncontrollably, and your hand shakes as you stare at Sukuna's message.

This is it. This is where things become dangerous. You know the right thing to do would be to say no. It's what a married woman should do. But your husband is in the living room, probably sexting his little affair, so why should you be a good wife?

And so you text Sukuna back, letting him know that dinner sounds great.

+++

The dinner with Sukuna is nice. Really nice. You catch yourself feeling so much lighter, your lips lifted in genuine laughter, your eyes shining with happiness as you spend your evening with Sukuna. He is a very charming conversationalist. Cocky, but in such a playful way that it makes you giggle and feel your face get hot from all the joy it brings you to playfully joke around with him and let him tease you in such a charming and light-hearted way.

Your meeting is innocent, nothing that could be counted as cheating. Just a man and a woman who enjoy good food and wine together and chat about everything and nothing. The occasional small touches don't count, right? Like when Sukuna's large hand brushes over the back of your much smaller hand that's resting on the table.

Or when he reaches across the table to cup your chin and wipe some cherry sauce off the corner of your lips with his thumb. But just because his gentle touch makes your skin tingle and your pulse quicken doesn't mean there is anything going on between Sukuna and you!

Sukuna refuses to let you pay, saying it's a delight for him to have you keep him company. And you laugh bashfully and wave him off but feel so giddy. Sukuna offers you his arm when you walk out of the restaurant, and you take it happily, marveling at how tall he is and how safe you feel walking at his side, biting your lip when you wrap your hand around his upper arm and feel his big biceps flex under your palm.

You say good night on the street in front of the restaurant, and before you know what you are doing, you wrap your arms around Sukuna for a light hug. You intend to pull away again immediately, just a quick, friendly hug, but you get stopped by Sukuna's strong arms wrapping around you, holding you firmly, hugging you back, and not letting you go yet.

He rests his chin on your head, and you have the enticing scent of his cologne in your nose again. You feel so warm and comfortable with Sukuna's strong arms around you, his tall, muscular body pressing against you, warm and reassuring. It makes you let out a shaky breath, overcome with feelings, because you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.

Sukuna's low voice is a velvety rumble when he says,

"I am on the National Museum's VIP list. There will be a pre-opening event for a new exhibition this coming week. Heian era. It sounds interesting. Would you like to accompany me?"

You lift your head, looking curiously at Sukuna,

"What must one do to get added to the National Museum's VIP list?"

An amused smirk lifts Sukuna's lips, making him look so unfairly handsome,

"Oh, nothing much, just make one or two generous donations every year."

He shrugs, and you laugh, beaming up at him in amusement as you nod,

"I would love to accompany you."

"Sweet. It's settled, then. I'll text you the day and time."

You want to walk to the subway, but Sukuna stops you with a warm hand on your arm, saying he will drive you home. For a moment, you freeze, not knowing what to say. It feels wrong somehow to let another man drive you to the apartment you share with your husband. And maybe you should be cautious and keep a distance and not let Sukuna know exactly where you live.

But you shake yourself out of it. All of those things have been hammered into your brain all of your life, making you anxious and scared and never truly living your life. You are already meeting with Sukuna for dinner and will accompany him to a museum next week. The world won't end if he knows your address!

You smile at him and nod, telling him it would be very nice if he drove you. And Sukuna smiles back, a pleased look in his maroon eyes. He gently steers you towards the parking space with a large hand resting lightly on the small of your back as you stroll down the street.

You catch yourself having a more upright posture than usual, your head lifted, your lips adorned with a soft smile. You feel like the passerbies are all looking at you and Sukuna. Maybe thinking the two of you are a couple on a date, and the thought makes your stomach tingle.

Sukuna's car is a black Porsche. You don't even know why you are surprised. He grins lazily as he opens the door for you and helps you slip into the passenger seat, handing you your purse when you sit and carefully closing the door behind you before he walks around the front of the fancy sports car and gets into the driver's seat.

"Nice car," you say, and Sukuna turns to look at you with a teasing twinkle in his eyes,

"Well, I'm not a nice guy, so at least my car should be."

"Oh, I think you are very nice."

The two of you hold eye contact for a long moment, both pairs of eyes filled with amusement before you burst out giggling, and Sukuna joins you with his low laugh.

+++

You spend the next evenings at home, having dinner with your husband, who is busy with his phone most of the time, making the cold, heavy feeling in your stomach even worse.

Your only joy is the anticipation you feel in looking forward to Wednesday afternoon when you will meet Sukuna at the museum.

He is already waiting when you arrive, leaning casually against a pillar next to the entrance, tall and handsome with his perfectly styled pink hair and his Tom Ford suit. A dark red one this time, which makes his eyes look like red wine.

Sukuna is a beautiful man.

For a moment, you feel a nervous flutter in your chest, but it vanishes again when Sukuna grins at you and greets you with his warm, low voice and a large hand on your back, pulling you into a half hug.

He doesn't even have to say his name when the two of you approach the young man who greets the guests and ticks off their names on the guest list.

"Ah, Mr Itadori! Have fun at the exhibition. And thank you so much for your generous support."

Your hand slips naturally around Sukuna's arm as you stroll through the exhibition. It feels nice to be here. It makes you realize how long it's been since you last visited a museum. Or did any kind of activity, really. Your husband never had time for you during the last few years.

You can tell that Sukuna is genuinely interested in the exhibition. He already seems to be an expert on the topic, adding interesting facts to the already detailed info sheets next to each exhibition piece.

It's an equal amount of endearing and sexy how nerdy he seems to be about this. Attractive. You like smart men. You like it when a man is passionate about learning everything about a topic that interests him. And Sukuna is like that.

You hang on his lips, soaking up his knowledge, feeling way too hot when you watch the sparkle in his maroon eyes as he goes into a passionate monologue about political intrigues during the timeline of one of the exhibition pieces.

And he seems to like that you also show genuine interest in the exhibition and in what he has to say about it. He blesses you with a soft smile that makes your stomach flutter. You feel exhilarated, your heart pounding in your chest, almost bursting with happiness. A long-forgotten feeling emerging again after so many years.

You thank Sukuna profusely for the fun afternoon, and he grins that charming, boyish grin at you and tells you he is grateful that you kept him such lovely company.

This time, there is no doubt about whether he really kisses your cheek or not. His lips linger on your heated skin for a long moment, soft lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before Sukuna smiles at you and cups your other cheek with his hand, his long fingers caressing it slowly.

"Let's meet again for dinner next week, sweetheart."

+++

You pace your living room restlessly.

Your trip to the museum with Sukuna made you realize something. It made you realize what this giddy feeling is that has been filling you ever since you started to meet up with him. That light-hearted, fluttery, happy feeling you get when you see him or even just when you think of him (which is almost every waking second of your day).

You try to shut down those feelings, telling yourself it's dangerous to let someone make you feel so much again. It makes you too vulnerable. It will only lead to more chaos and more hurt.

Why would a man like Sukuna even be interested in anything serious with me? He can probably have anyone. Either he only sees me as a friend, or I am just a little fling to him. I have to stop this before I get in even deeper!

In the coming week, you cancel your dinner with Sukuna by sending him a short text telling him you have a cold. He sends you a get well soon message and asks if you need anything, which you deny, even while you sob silently because Sukuna is so caring, and all you want to do is run into his strong arms and forget about your joyless life.

But you stay strong and put your phone away, forbidding yourself from sending more messages to Sukuna.

Your husband makes a rare attempt to talk to you, and you already know what he wants. After tiptoeing around you for several hours, he asks you for sex. You join him in the dark bedroom, feeling nothing as you slip out of your clothes and climb into bed with him.

You have learned to close your eyes during sex and let your mind wander, imagining all kinds of fictional scenarios to help you feel anything at all. But this time, you don't think of a fictional love interest out of a romance novel or an actor you find attractive. This time, you think of Sukuna.

You feel dirty afterward as you stand under the shower and scrub at your skin. Dirty for thinking of Sukuna while you slept with your husband. But what makes you feel even dirtier is that you still let your cheating husband touch you even though Sukuna is so nice to you. It feels as if you are cheating on both of them.

You cry so much that you feel like you have no tears left.

+++

Even though you haven't met or talked to Sukuna in over a week, he is still constantly on your mind. You are haunted by images of him. That beautiful tattooed face. That sexy low voice and the playful smirk. That tall and muscular body that makes you feel so tiny in comparison and so safe when you are standing in front of him or leaning against him.

You sigh. One would assume that acknowledging that you are developing romantic feelings for Sukuna would make things easier for you. Clearer. But the thing is, even though you know what your heart wants, you are still too scared to end things with your husband. There are too many insecurities. Too many risks and you feel so useless and weak, just like your parents always told you you are.

You feel frozen, unable to make a move. There is this wonderful man who treats you as if you are special and shows you how a man is supposed to make you feel, and yet you lack the courage to get out of your loveless marriage.

You have always been an overthinker, always scared to trust your instincts. Brought up to always be sensible and make decisions with your head and not your heart. So how could you just leave the security of this marriage? Especially when you are trying to convince yourself that Sukuna would never want a relationship anyway.

No, you can't let yourself believe that you could have a future with Sukuna. This is just a stupid dream born out of your naivety, which your parents always warned you about.

And how could you even go about ending things with your husband? Sit him down and tell him it's over? But what then? What do you do when he just refuses to accept it?

Or should you just pack your bag and leave while he is at work, letting him return to an empty apartment and a goodbye letter on the kitchen table? But where would you go? To a hotel? You have no money. To your parents? You would feel so ashamed, and you fear their judgment. To a friend? You don't really have any friends anymore who you are close enough with to ask this of.

You sigh. None of it seems achievable. Not for you. You are too chicken to do any of it.

Your husband informs you that he will be gone for two days for a business trip, and you let out a breath of relief, happy about the freedom you feel when he is away and you have the apartment to yourself.

You open a bottle of wine, listen to your favorite playlist, and dance around the kitchen, almost able to convince yourself that things will be ok and you can just live a life feeling detached from the hurt your marriage causes you.

And then your iPad dies. You groan, quickly walking to the spare room you use as an office to grab your husband's laptop, only to get greeted by his e-mail inbox, where you see a booking confirmation for a romantic couple getaway for the next two days.

You stare at it wide-eyed. And then you sit down in a daze and go through the received and sent e-mails, only discovering more outrageous things. The escort girls your husband booked over the last year, the flowers he ordered for other women, while you never got any flowers from him in all your years married to him. The romantic getaways he booked anytime he claimed to go on business trips.

You can't even cry about it anymore. The sadness is replaced by cold rage. And by a strange feeling of resignation. You know you could show all of this to your mom and finally make her believe what you told her all this time. Finally, presenting her and everyone else with proof of how badly your husband treats you.

But even as you snap pictures of the e-mails, you realize you can't bring yourself to do it. And the infuriating thing about it is that it's not even because it causes you hurt, but because you still want to protect your husband. If you show your mom this, she will confront him and make a huge scene. And you don't want that to happen. Even after everything he did, you still are too much of a good girl to let him face the rage of your mom.

That's why you close the laptop again without doing anything. You make sure to put it back to where you found it.

But a different kind of conviction has settled over you. If your asshole of a husband can go on romantic getaways and sex meetings, you can allow yourself some fun, too, can't you?

It's not even that you plan to have sex when you text Sukuna. You just want to meet him for dinner or another trip to the museum. You just want to talk to him, and laugh with him and soak up the light feeling he gives you.

He calls you instead of texting back. Your heart races when you take the call, and Sukuna's velvety low voice fills your ear,

"I just came home from a big grocery haul. So how about instead of meeting at a restaurant, you come to my apartment, and I cook for you?"

You agree instantly.

+++

Unsurprisingly, Sukuna lives in one of the most expensive neighborhoods of the city. The luxurious apartment complex makes you feel nervous and a bit out of place. But that uneasiness slips from you the moment Sukuna opens his door and greets you with that sexy, teasing smirk and a playful little comment.

It's the first time you see Sukuna dressed casually. And it undeniably does something to you to see him in a pair of gray sweatpants and a rather snug-fitting white t-shirt that clings to his buff pecs and gives you a nice view of his muscular arms and more of his tattoos. You aren't sure what is more mouth-watering, the food that is simmering in one of the pots on Sukuna's stove or his big biceps that flex deliciously with every move.

Sukuna lifts you onto the kitchen counter, easily picking you up and setting you down as if you weigh nothing. A fact that makes you all flustered and sends your pulse racing, making you gratefully grab the wine glass Sukuna is offering you, so you can hide your face behind it and let the alcohol calm your nerves.

No man has ever cooked for you before, and watching Sukuna do it is one of the most attractive things you have ever witnessed. He is so sexy. Passionate and skilled, and still always taking time to playfully flirt with you or ask you to try one of his dishes, feeding you food from a spoon or from his fingers.

There is a special kind of electricity between you tonight. An almost touchable tension that makes your skin tingle anytime Sukuna brushes up against you.

His voice is husky when he tells you what ingredients he uses to marinate the roasted vegetables. And you can't help but let your tongue flick over his fingers when he pushes a slice of roasted zucchini against your lips.

Sukuna groans softly. Your breath hitches in your throat, and you look up at his tattooed face. You are met by a hungry glint in those beautiful maroon eyes that remind you of the wine Sukuna poured for you.

You are caught in Sukuna's intense gaze, unable to look away. Everything else seems to fade away.

And the next thing you know is that Sukuna is kissing you. Or maybe you were the one who pressed her lips against his first. You don't know. All you know is that you are kissing right here in Sukuna's kitchen while you sit on the kitchen counter, and he is standing between your legs. His large hands are cupping your cheeks and tilting your head back, and your hands are twisting in the front of his soft white t-shirt, pulling him closer to you as you sigh needily into his mouth.

Sukuna kisses you like you have never been kissed before. Passionate, fiery. Deep and sensual, making your head spin and your pulse flutter under Sukuna's hands.

You can't get enough of him and wrap your arms and legs around him as if you are scared he will vanish into thin air if you let go of him. You kiss him with a hunger unknown to you until now. Like a starving person being presented with a life-saving meal.

Sukuna's large hands trail down your sides, fingertips grazing over the sides of your breasts, eliciting a needy little whine from you, and further down until they reach your thighs. You are drunk on his kiss, drunk on him, melting under every little touch.

And Sukuna hums in the back of his throat and deepens the kiss even more. His large hands slip under you, cupping your ass, kneading it while he makes you moan around his tongue.

You have always been shy, but there is something about Sukuna and the way he makes you feel that makes you slip a hand under his t-shirt, feeling him up, greedily caressing his flexing abs, feeling dizzy at how good his firm muscles feel under your fingertips.

You both can't seem to stop kissing, both tumbling down further and further into this heated desire. You are faintly aware of Sukuna mumbling against your lips that the sauce needs to simmer for another hour anyway, and then he picks you up and lifts you easily off the kitchen counter while his lips claim yours again.

Sukuna carries you to his bedroom while never breaking the kiss, and you suck on his bottom lip and run your greedy hands through his soft pink hair and down his bulging biceps, wanting him so much that you think you will die if you don't get all of him tonight.

You sleep with Sukuna on his fancy bed, and it's nothing like it was with your husband. It's like you finally learn how sex is supposed to feel with a man who truly wants you.

Sukuna makes you feel wanted and desired, a feeling that is so new to you after all these years caught in a loveless marriage where your husband made you feel undesirable, unattractive, and like you would never be able to find anyone else with how your body looks and how lousy you are in bed.

But with Sukuna, it is completely different. You feel sexy here in his bed with the way he looks at you when he undresses you. And with the way he moans sweet praise in your ear before his lips and hands worship your body.

Sukuna is a real man. Experienced and confident, but so loving and patient with you when you get shy and tell him that you aren't very experienced and that your husband was disappointed in your skills in the bedroom.

At one point, you tense up, thinking Sukuna will get angry like your husband when you are clumsy during sex. But the opposite is the case. Sukuna is calm and gentle, talking to you in that sexy low voice, all soothing and sexy, telling you that it's ok and that you don't have to be scared or embarrassed.

He kisses you until your head spins and then asks you why you got so tense, asks you what you need. And you almost break out in tears, hugging him tightly, hiding your face in his defined pecs, inhaling his scent, and feeling so loved and so safe in his strong arms like never before.

"I just... I have only been with my husband, and he told me I am not good in bed. He always got mad at me when I didn't know how something worked. I am sorry if I am not what you are used to."

And you feel Sukuna's arms tightening around you, feel him tense up. But he isn't angry with you, only with your husband.

"That man is such a fool. Look at me, darling."

You lift your head off his chest and look at his tattooed face when he looks at you all earnestly,

"You are a beautiful woman, sexy and desirable, and I want to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Because that's what you deserve. And you don't have to be experienced or fuck like a pornstar. You are perfect the way you are, and you drive me crazy. And if you don't know how something works and you want to learn it, then I will teach you, and I promise I will be patient and gentle."

You nod wildly, feeling too emotional to speak, and instead press your body against Sukuna's and capture his lips in another needy kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips when he wraps his large hands around your waist and takes control.

Everything is so easy after that. No words are needed. Just hands and lips exploring each other's skin in heated caresses and bodies entangled in feverish passion. You let yourself fall, give yourself fully into Sukuna's loving hands. Let him take care of you like no one has ever done before.

He fucks you so good you cry.

All the years of feeling undesirable and not enough slip off you now that you are in Sukuna's bed under his gorgeous, tall, and heavy body, your nails leaving scratches on his broad back, hot tears of bliss streaming down your cheeks, and his name falling sweetly from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

It's like you are finally alive, like you are a flower that finally blooms after all these years.

+++

That first night in Sukuna's bed changed you profoundly.

You catch yourself smiling all day. There's a new bounce in your steps. You feel so much lighter. Your stomach is filled with butterflies as if you are a teenager again who has her first crush. Your chest feels so warm. You're filled with new hope. Maybe there is more to life and love than you thought, after all.

You feel like, for the first time, someone has really seen you. You weren't aware that sex like this existed in real life. That a man could make you fall apart like that. Sukuna fucked you in a way that was life-changing, making you feel like you gave him not just your body but also your soul.

And as passionate and nasty as the sex with Sukuna was, he made you feel respected the whole time. Adored. That is what makes you lose your mind anytime you think of it. You have been with your husband for so long, and yet even in the beginning, when the feelings were still fresh, he never made you feel adored or loved in bed. You didn't even know it until now, but he only ever made you feel used.

When your husband asks you for sex, you turn him down his time, telling him you aren't in the mood, and you don't even feel guilty for it.

You keep running back into Sukuna's strong arms over and over again. Into his bed, under his heavy body, where you feel loved and wanted. It's like he opened your eyes, and now you can see all those new colors that you only seem to be able to see with him.

+++

Your clandestine meetings continue for weeks. It surprises you to see winter turn into spring, and yet Sukuna is still texting you, inviting you to more dinner dates and to more intimate meetings in his bedroom. You always assumed he would end your little affair before things became too serious.

But somehow, he is still in your life, reserving his Wednesday evenings for you, buying you roses, and taking you to the best restaurants in the city.

One night, you sit up in his bed on the ruffled silk sheets and bite your lip as you let your gaze trail over Sukuna's naked body. His tattooed skin, his buff muscles, his beautiful silhouette. And you blurt out,

"Why do you keep seeing me?"

It's what you have been asking yourself from the start. What does Sukuna see in you? You are mediocre in every way. Average looks, no real talents, and no impressive career. A wife who got neglected by her husband because she wasn't good enough in his eyes. A woman in her thirties, who was replaced by a younger, more attractive version.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is gorgeous, powerful and rich, and his age only makes him more attractive. He could have anyone.

Sukuna hums softly and turns onto his side, lifting his head to watch you with curious maroon eyes.

"What do you mean, darling?"

You avert your gaze, sighing, bringing up your hands in a helpless little gesture,

"I... I mean, you are you, and I am me. And I just don't understand what you see in me."

Now, the noise Sukuna makes sounds a bit like a growl. You feel stupid for saying anything, already about to scramble out of his bed and flee before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. But you don't make it out of bed. Sukuna's strong arms wrap around you and stop you. He pulls you back into his arms and against his solid, broad chest.

"Don't belittle yourself like that. I keep asking to see you because I want to. Because I like spending time with you. You are so sweet. You make me feel so warm when I have always felt so cold."

His words hit you like a truck. You blink rapidly, your eyelashes fluttering against Sukuna's chest.

"R... really?"

He huffs softly, letting out a low chuckle as his large hand pets your hair,

"Yes, really. I used to only have one-night stands or casual flings. Just sex and nothing more. I used to think that was all I needed. But you showed me something different. Hell, I've never spent so much time with a woman before I slept with her for the first time. And I enjoyed every second of it! I like spending time with you to talk and laugh with you and just have this companionship. You make me feel like maybe I am not that cold-hearted asshole I always thought I was."

You gulp hard, tears filling your eyes. But this time, happy ones. You sniffle against Sukuna's naked chest and press a tender kiss to his tattooed skin.

"You are so sweet, Sukuna."

He laughs softly, and you can feel it against your cheek, a low rumble, where your face is resting on his chest,

"You are the first one who told me I am sweet. Are you sure?"

Now, you laugh softly, too. The insecurity you felt a moment ago forgotten,

"Yes, 100% sure. No one has ever treated me as sweet as you."

"It's what you deserve. You are so sweet that I want to be sweet for you, too. And..."

Sukuna's large hands tighten around your hips, and he flips you over. He rolls on top of you, covering you whole with his tall, broad body. His lips find your neck, trailing little kisses over it, his low voice a seductive murmur in your ear,

"You're not just sweet, but also beautiful and sexy, and you make me laugh, and I want to take you places and cook for you and also want to keep you on my cock all night and feel you squeeze around me and hear you cry my name."

Sukuna grinds his hips against you, pushing you into the mattress, taking you with one powerful, deep thrust for the second time tonight. You gasp and cling to his broad shoulders, your legs wrapping around his hips, welcoming him, craving him, needing him.

He takes it slow. Slow, deep thrusts, his forehead resting against yours, his low voice moaning sweet nothings in between deep, sensual kisses.

It's then that you realize that Sukuna is doing what no one else ever did to you. Sukuna is making love to you.

And you cry hot tears, drowning in his love and his body and everything he gives you. Your nails leave scratches on his broad back, your heels dig into his firm ass, as you throw your head back and cry out his name in the sweetest ecstasy.

He holds you afterward, lies behind you, and wraps his tall, strong body around you. He hugs you with his strong arms and nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing kisses onto your skin, not letting go of you, taking care of you, cuddling you. Something you also never had before. A man who is willingly holding you like that for hours after he came in you.

You sigh happily, still in a daze. The occasional tear still runs down your cheek as you snuggle against Sukuna's muscular body, and your hands caress his tattooed forearms tenderly. You never want to leave his arms again. You want to stay right here.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna's low voice murmurs against your skin again,

"I mean it, darling. I like having you in my life. So much that I want you in it all the time."

One of his large hands caresses your belly, so tender, so loving, sending butterflies fluttering in it like crazy. And Sukuna breathes in your ear,

"Be mine."

You draw in a sharp breath and turn around in Sukuna's arms, cupping his face with your hands as you kiss him, long and sweet, and in between kisses, you murmur against his lips,

"I am already yours."

You know it is the truth. Even though you are still married to another man, even though you are still living with your husband, you are Sukuna's woman now. You suspect you have been Sukuna's woman for several months already, long before you allowed yourself to admit it out loud.

+++

Two hours later, you are buttoning up your coat, about to leave Sukuna's apartment and the sweet bliss of his arms and return to your cold, loveless marriage, and your lonely apartment, when Sukuna stops in front of you. He reaches out, wordlessly helping you with the buttons, dominant in such a caring way, and somehow, that small loving gesture makes your lips tremble as you are overcome by emotions.

He is so good to you. Such a giant of a man, so tall and broad and powerful. And yet, he treats you so gently. Large hands buttoning up your coat for you. The hands that also cook Michelin-star-worthy meals for you, or wash your hair in his luxurious bathtub. The hands that make you see stars when they finger you oh so good. The hands that caress your cheek tenderly and brush your tears away with so much care. Hands that give to you over and over again. A hundred little acts of service that this powerful man gives to you.

"Sukuna, I..."

You trail off, not able to put into words what you want to say to him. How much he means to you. How much you want him. How he made you believe in love again. How much you crave to leave your old life behind and start over new with Sukuna even though you are so scared of change.

Before you can say any of it, Sukuna grabs your wrists, takes them firmly but gently into his larger hands, and looks at you intensely.

"Leave that asshole. He doesn't deserve you, princess. If a man can't see what he has in you, then he is trash. Don't be scared. I can take much better care of you than him. I'll fuck you good and make you only cry happy tears. I will appreciate you like you deserve. I will love you like you deserve. I will ensure you always have everything you need. I have money, and I can protect you. Tell me, darling, who would you feel safer with waking through the city in the middle of the night? That joke of a man or me?"

Of course, you know the answer.

"I love you, Sukuna."

"I love you, too."

His strong arms wrap around you and pull you into a hug, and you nuzzle your face into his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. And finally, here in the safety of Sukuna's embrace, you say those words you have been too scared to say until now,

"I will leave him. I want to be with you. Only with you, Kuna."

You can hear the smile in Sukuna's voice when he replies,

"I'll help you, sweetheart. I have one of the best lawyers in the whole country. I'll call him tomorrow to prepare the divorce papers. I'll take care of everything for you."

Sukuna cups the back of your head and leans down to kiss your forehead gently, reassuringly. He looks at you with that boyish grin you fell in love with and adds in a playful and husky voice,

"And once all of this is dealt with, I will make you my wife."

He takes your left hand into his, turning it around, inspecting the wedding ring you are still wearing, scrunching his nose at it,

"And I'll give you a much prettier ring."

+++

You let the door fall softly shut behind you one last time as you walk out of the apartment you had been sharing with your husband for over a decade. A smile lifts your lips. You are glad to close this chapter of your life.

You know that a braver woman would have left her husband sooner, would have moved out, or kicked him out the moment she found out he was cheating on her. Maybe even sooner, when she realized she was unhappy in that marriage. But you aren't brave. You have always been full of self-doubts and fears. Too ashamed to crawl back to your parents and admit that you hadn't been strong enough to endure your marriage. Too scared that you would never recover from the financial loss of the divorce. Too insecure to believe you could ever make it on your own.

But now you have Sukuna. And the fall doesn't seem so high anymore. You know Sukuna will catch you in his strong arms. He won't let you crash to the ground.

In the end, you think it doesn't matter how you got out of that unhappy marriage and into this loving relationship. All that matters is that you got a second chance to learn how love is supposed to be.

And it still takes bravery to leave your husband and walk into Sukuna's arms. To close the door of your marriage and open the one that leads to the man who came into your life as an illicit affair but has become your one and only.

OH SUKUNA, I NEED YOU 😭😭💗💗 He really took one look at Reader having her breakdown in that restaurant and was like, "I will steal that woman from that loser and give her what she deserves." Thank you, Kuna baby ;)

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing! This story became much longer than I thought, but the words wouldn't stop flowing out of me because this story made me so happy. I hope it could give some of you the same feeling.

I often see posts/articles that victim-blame the women who don't have the courage to leave an unhappy marriage, so I wanted to write something where Reader isn't a strong, independent woman but someone who needs a little encouragement and lots of love from a man like Kuna before she dares make the decision to leave her husband. She deserves all the happiness!

I hope you enjoyed the story and maybe fell a little in love with this version of Sukuna, too 💗

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[snail-day]

Suguru knows better than to flirt with his pretty little wife when you’re high off your ass on anesthesia.

He does. He's reminded himself countless times.

But then again, you’re blinking up at him like he’s the moon itself, all soft and slow with that syrupy smile pulling at your lips, holding onto every word he''s saying. Your pupils blown wide, unfocused, cheeks warm and a little flushed, and he’s weak for you like this. Loopy. Dazed. Sweet as honey.

He adjusts the monitor, fingertips brushing the edge of your wrist where the pulse oximeter clips gently to your finger. It’s steady. So is his hand. (Even if the rest of him isn’t)

“You flirt with just anyone like this?” he asks, low and quiet, just a hint of teasing in the edge of his voice. Violet eyes softening as they find their way to yours, lidded. Dark hair pulled back into a neat tie, though a few strands have managed to slip loose. He even wore your favorite scrubs, little kitties, an anniversary gift.

You giggle. All sticky-honey and with the sweetest smile. “Only the white-haired doctor gets it this good.”

Suguru huffs a soft laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up as he makes a little note on your chart. Nothing medical. A doodle. He just needs somewhere to put his hands. “Ah. Well. I guess I’ll let that one pass.”

You still haven’t noticed the silicone band glinting on his finger.

Still haven’t realized the man standing at your bedside, gently adjusting your blanket, has already kissed you good morning today. Already whispered you’re okay, I’ve got you before the anesthesia hit. Already threatened three different interns not to mess up your IV.

And then you sigh, all dreamy and lost in the soft lighting of the recovery room, eyes fluttering up to his face like it’s the first time you’ve seen him.

“My husband won’t put a baby in me,” you whisper, voice confidential and sing-song. “Maybe you would.”

Suguru freezes. Still polite. Barely composed.

But his ears go pink. Just a little. He presses his lips together. Fights the smirk twitching its way up.

“…Maybe your husband just thinks the three of you don’t have the time right now,” he murmurs, smoothing your blanket down pretending like you haven’t just turned him into hospital gossip for the evening. His warm hands, fingers long and careful as they brush over your thighs, just enough pressure to settle you, not enough to rattle.

Somewhere beyond the curtain, a familiar voice whines:

“That’s my wife,” Satoru’s saying, exasperated and loud enough for the whole wing to hear. “What do you mean I can’t be her doctor anymore?! What do you mean I can’t crawl in bed with her?!”

“Dr. Gojo,” the charge nurse says, unamused, “please leave the hallway.”

Suguru just sighs. Tucks your hair behind your ear with one gentle finger. You lean into it instinctively.

“Such a handful,” he murmurs under his breath, though whether he means you or Satoru, even he’s not sure.

You reach up for him again, fingers forming a wobbly little heart in the air. And he melts. Lets you catch his hand, lets your fingers trace the edge of his palm while you giggle and hum and blink at him. Acting as if this is the first time you've ever fallen in love.

You don’t remember much right now. Not the wedding. Not the matching rings. Not the way you cried the first time he called you his.

But it’s okay.

He remembers enough for both of you.

[ilikeevilblondes]

Lazy Mornings

18+ MDNI!

Summary: You and Joel don't have to be anywhere anytime soon.

W.C: ~1.8k

Warnings: husband!joel x f!reader. unprotected p-in-v, praise!, soft!joel, no specified ages, morning sex, lotta fluff, eww corny coupley shit, (post-jackson era!)

Note: still in denial about ep 2... also, surprise! guess who broke free from her exam hiatus to churn this out in one afternoon sesh @whaddupbaby

The early morning sun peeked through the sheer linen of the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. There was no birdsong, no familiar hustle and bustle of Jackson’s populace, nothing beyond the peaceful stillness of the room. 

As far as you were concerned, there was only you and Joel.

Your back was against his bare chest, his broad frame encompassing you from behind as you lay on your side, limbs tangled together like crawling ivy.

His mouth skittered down your neck, lips tenderly pressing unspoken ‘I love you’s into your skin, branding you with his touch.

“No patrol today?” You mused sleepily, baring more of your neck for him.

“Mm-mm.” Joel hummed in response, breathing you in and gently tracing indistinguishable, lazy shapes on your hip. He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His words were warm against your cheek. “I’d rather spend a few hours with my wife.”

You smiled. “Lucky woman.” 

“Her husband’s even luckier.” He drawled, his rich, Texan accent reintroducing itself in a deep rumble the way it did only when he was half-awake.

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“You always gotta put up a fight, don’t you, Mrs Miller?” Joel chuckled, kissing your cheek.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in check, Mr Miller.” You turned your head to meet his gaze.

And meet his gaze, you did. Two pools of deep brown stared back at you, steady, molten, and impossibly soft. Something about the way Joel looked at you made the world slow to a hush, as if the morning itself had bent to its knees, reverent to the quiet worship in his eyes.

It wasn’t just love. It was a kind of knowing—like he was memorising you in real time, committing the curve of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes, the sound of your breath to some sacred, secret archive he was happy to hold the only key to. 

“Believe me, ma’am, I am putty in the palm of your hand.” His voice was low and gentle.

“You big flirt.” 

Joel only smiled, slow and sleepy, like he had all the time in the world to love you, and no intention of ever stopping.

You brought a hand to cup his face, caressing his cheek and feeling the roughness of his grey-streaked stubble under the pad of your thumb.

And he took your hand, your fingers dwarfed in his, and pressed the softest of kisses to your knuckles.

“Guilty as charged,” He smiled widely.

You rolled your eyes, but failed to bite back a similarly wide smile threatening to form on your lips.

“Since you don’t have patrol, does that mean we get a few hours to ourselves?”

“Mhm.” Joel sighed, releasing your hand to run his hand along your side. “Why? Got something in mind, sweetheart?”

The half-hard state of his cock against the small of your back informed you that he already knew the answer to his own question.

You, nonetheless, entertained him.

“Maybe.”

“‘Maybe’, huh? Care to elaborate?” 

“What are you, a cop?”

Joel laughed and slid his hand down to your thigh, gently hitching your leg above his hip, opening you up for him.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re really bad at dirty talk?” He hummed in between trailing his lips along your shoulder, and slowly glided his hand down your front, below your navel, dipping under the waistband of your underwear just shy of where you were aching to feel the thickness of his fingers.

“You want me to try again?”

“Be my guest, sweets.”

You placed a hand over his, interlocking your fingers and sliding it down, down, down… 

A low, almost inaudible moan escaped from his throat once he felt your puffy folds and the slick pooling from your aching cunt.

“I’m currently blanking on a witty one-liner, but I just really want you to fuck me silly.”

A murmured ‘fuck’ escaped his lips and he instinctively bucked his clothed hard-on against you.

Breathily, “yeah, I think I can do that.”

And that was how Joel ended up fucking you sideways at eight in the morning on a random Sunday.

One hand tilted your jaw up so he could suck at your pulse point as his cock lazily drove in and out of your weeping mound, held captive by his grip on your thigh splayed over his hips.

It was a good thing you were already dripping for him, because he held no patience for foreplay and endeavoured solely to feel your cunt wrapped around him. Usually, he’d take his time stretching you open with his fingers, but, fortunately, you were able to take all eight inches of him in nearly one thrust from the almost shameful amount of arousal you had collected.

Even more fortunately for you, an hour and a bit later, your godsend of a husband had managed to work four deliciously slow orgasms from you and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

“Mmm, feel so good, baby.” He whispered against your jaw.

You whimpered at his snail-like pace. “Joel—” A strangled noise tore out of you.

A noncommittal sound came from him in reply.

“Faster. Please,”

“Sorry, sweets, no can do.” He tutted, sloppily pressing a kiss to the underside of your chin. “Wanna take my time with this pretty pussy.”

True to his word, Joel continued his almost painstakingly languid tempo.

He'd slowly drive in—all the way to the hilt, the coarse hairs at his base tickling your inner thighs. And then he’d pause to feel your drooling, velvety walls clench and flutter around him. And then he’d pull out so far you almost believed he’d dare to leave you bereft of his weeping, swollen head, before gradually feeding you his length and restarting his seemingly never-ending cycle.

All the while, he softly mumbled sweet nothings beside you, his warm breath fanning against your cheek.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

“Can feel her stranglin’ me, baby. So fuckin’ tight.”

“That’s it. Oh, take it, gorgeous. Yeah, there you go.”

“Look so pretty full of my cock,”

You were overstimulated, to say the least.

All you could feel was him, behind you, steadily fucking into you. All you could smell was sex and Joel; pine and musk and Marlboro Reds. All you could hear was the low rumbles of his husky baritone, your own heartbeat thudding in your ears, the obscene sounds of his length re-sheathing itself in your very welcoming cunt.

Slowly, in and out. In and out. In and out.

Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn’t notice. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have cared. 

With every leisurely thrust, his tip kissed your cervix, filling you with a familiar weight that felt like home. 

Joel was your home.

And that thought repeated over and over in your mind like a broken record as he continued fucking you like you both had all the time in the world.

Home, home, home.

“You feel so good,” You sighed.

“Yeah?” Joel slurred. “Fuck, baby. Never wanna leave this goddamn bed.”

Slowly, in and out.

In and out.

In response, you melted into him like butter on a warm dish, throwing an arm behind you to gently card through his salt and pepper curls.

Joel hummed and pressed a wet kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder, looking down at where you two were connected and letting out a low growl.

“You see that, baby?”

“Hm?” Your eyes fluttered, not registering anything except for the sensation of his big fucking cock.

Gently, Joel tilted your head downwards. 

“Look how well you take me, sweetheart.” He sighed, his face right beside yours, his eyes watching the same thing. “Look at how she’s just cryin’ for me.”

Fuck.

A creamy ring had formed around his base—no doubt a salacious mixture of his pre-come and your slick, as you had already come a mind-numbing amount of times. And there it went, disappearing into your puffy, drooling cunt over and over and over...

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, unconsciously clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Joel gritted his teeth and accidentally drove a bit too harshly into you, his cock dragging up your walls with a force he normally reserved for those special nights he’d fuck you like an animal in heat. 

That wasn’t his plan for this particular morning, but, as always, you had managed to make him lose control, if only for a second.

“Joel!” You wailed, throwing your head back.

Joel immediately shushed you. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry, s’was an accident. You’re alright, hm?” He kissed your head. “Gotta keep quiet, though. Ellie’s probably still asleep.”

You whimpered petulantly.

“My poor girl.” Joel laughed airily, then lowered his voice to coo in your ear. “Gonna give me one more?”

One more? Was he trying to kill you?

Evidently, you didn’t need to voice such a concern, as it was apparently written all over your face.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” Joel hummed softly.

A sigh. And then, you mumbled a quiet ‘yes’.

"That's my girl."

Your husband’s warm, calloused hand came to your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-circles on the bundle of nerves until you cried out and fluttered wildly around him, your millionth orgasm of the morning washing over you like a tidal wave.

And he kept slowly fucking into you as you reached you high, and still, after. Your consciousness barely hung on by a thread, and, at the rate he was going, that thread was in danger of snapping.

Slowly, in and out. In and out.

“Joel, too—too much…”

“Shh, baby. C’mon, hold out for a little longer for me, I’m almost there.” Joel promised sweetly, pressing another kiss to your hairline. “Please, baby, just a little more.”

You heaved out a breath. A faint sigh of exhaustion, possibly one of protest.

“Just—shit, just a little more, ‘nd I’ll fill you up, hm? Fuck you nice and full…”

Joel was rambling now, his breath laboured, his eyebrows pinched in concentration, his eyes half-lidded and blurred with lust as he sawed up and out of you.

Slowly, in. Even slower, out.

Obediently, you nodded.

As promised, it took him a few more thrusts before he came with a gasp of your name, buried deep inside you—as deep as your walls would let him.

His pearly spend leaked out of your cunt (which was still stuffed full of him) as he planted kisses on every inch of skin his adoring mouth could reach.

“Did so good for me. My sweet girl,” He whispered, nudging the side of your face with his nose.

Hoarsely, you replied, “think you just about killed me.”

Joel laughed softly and carefully angled your head toward him. 

“C’mere,” He sighed, smiling.

And he tenderly slotted his lips against yours, tongue lazily slipping into your mouth and meeting your own.

And, draping a heavy arm across your waist, he pulled you closer against him, tangling his limbs with yours once more, and finding peace in the feeling of your body tucked into his.

And you both drifted into a warm, weightless sleep, letting the morning slip by. 

Because, in the quiet tangle of shared breath and steady heartbeats, nothing else mattered.

Because the two of you had all the time in the world to love each other.

[moondustbaby]

Sundress Season

Blue collar!Rafe x Wife!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

Summary: You surprise your husband Rafe with lunch at his worksite—wearing a sundress that turns a few too many heads. His coworkers are bold, but Rafe’s jealousy is bolder. He handles it the only way he knows how: by making it very clear you’re his.

⸻

You should’ve known better than to wear the sundress.

It’s not like you were trying to be a distraction. You were just hot, the Carolina sun beating down through your windshield, and the soft yellow cotton was the only thing in your closet that didn’t make you want to cry. So you threw your hair up, grabbed the brown paper bag of lunch, and headed to the job site with a smile.

You knew Rafe was working somewhere out off the mainland, some big house renovation, and he’d sounded exhausted on the phone earlier. You figured a surprise lunch would be the least you could do.

What you didn’t count on was the way the crew looked at you when you stepped out of the truck.

A couple of guys near the framing area went silent mid-conversation. One of them let out a low whistle.

“Damn, Cameron’s wife is somethin’ else,” one muttered, not quietly. “No way she came out here lookin’ like that just to see him.”

Your cheeks burned instantly. You weren’t trying to make a scene—you just wanted to feed your husband. But you were very aware of how the dress clung to your waist, how the breeze caught the hem and played it around your thighs.

You smiled politely, tried to focus on the little path leading to the house, pretending not to hear the not-so-subtle commentary.

“Need a hand, sweetheart?” another guy offered, jogging up beside you with a grin. “That bag looks heavy. Bet I could carry it better than your man.”

You blinked. “Uh, no thank you. I’ve got it.”

“Sure? Don’t wanna strain those pretty arms—”

“You talkin’ to my wife?”

The voice cut through the air like a blade. Deep, rough, unmistakable.

You didn’t have to turn around. You felt Rafe before you saw him.

He was stomping over from the other side of the site, sawdust in his hair, sweat dripping down his neck, and he looked like he was about to throw someone through a two-by-four.

The guy beside you went stiff. “Was just being polite, man.”

Rafe didn’t blink. “Polite looks different than flirting.”

He took the bag from your hands without saying anything else and slid his arm around your waist, tugging you in close—close enough that you could smell the mix of sawdust and soap on his shirt. Close enough that no one could mistake whose you were.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, your hand brushing his chest. “They were just—”

“Did he touch you?” he asked quietly, jaw clenched, ignoring everyone else.

“No. Rafe, really—”

His eyes flicked back to the guy who’d offered to help. “You look at her again like that, you’re off my site. Got it?”

The guy mumbled something and backed off, and Rafe didn’t even wait to see where he went. He was already guiding you inside, big hand firm on the small of your back.

Inside, where it was quieter—unfinished drywall and the faint hum of a portable fan—he finally stopped. His eyes scanned you slowly.

“That dress,” he muttered.

You gave him a look. “What about it?”

He swallowed hard. “You wore that here?”

You crossed your arms. “Why, you don’t like it now?”

Rafe ran a hand down his face, looking borderline feral. “Oh, I like it. Too much. That’s the problem.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “So you’re mad ‘cause I look good?”

“I’m mad ‘cause you look good around other men.” He moved closer, eyes narrowing. “They shouldn’t even know what your legs look like. That’s for me.”

“You think I wore this for them?”

Rafe grunted. “I know you didn’t. Doesn’t matter. You still walked out there lookin’ like a damn dream.”

You shook your head with a soft laugh, resting a hand against his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re mine,” he said, kissing you hard before you could argue.

He didn’t pull back for a long moment. Just stood there, hands firm on your hips, lips pressed to yours like he was still staking a claim.

“You really came all the way out here just to bring me lunch?” he finally asked.

You nodded. “You sounded tired. Figured you could use a break.”

His gaze softened. “You always know what I need.”

“I also know you’re gonna murder your coworkers if I show up again like this.”

He smirked. “Not if you wear my jacket over it.”

You grinned. “Deal.”

And when you finally sat on the tailgate of his truck to eat—Rafe beside you, protective as ever, practically growling if anyone even looked your way—you couldn’t help but love him a little more for it.

Because sure, he was over-the-top. Maybe even a little unhinged. But you knew underneath all that jealous rage was the same man who always kissed your knuckles, remembered your favorite drinks, and called just to hear your voice.

And the way he looked at you—like you were the sun and the moon and every star in between—made you feel beautiful, wanted, his.

Even in a sundress at a job site.

༶⋆｡ﾟ☽✿⋆˚✧✿☾ﾟ｡⋆༶

a/n: i’d like to personally apologize to the guy who tried to offer you help—Rafe will let him live, eventually. maybe. moral of the story: don’t flirt with the boss’ wife especially if she’s in a sundress, unless you’ve got a death wish (or a strong dental plan). shoutout to blue collar Rafe for keeping jobsite HR in business.

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@lolabunnyworldss @superlegend216

[highdramas]

ok but first or second year resident flirting with jack’s wife knowingly or unknowingly that she’s jack’s wife and jack is losing it over the whole thing and keeps giving the newbie death stares from across the room whenever the newbie is near is wife and dana sees this all go down from the nurses station and just prepares for jack to go ape if the newbie crosses a line

rookie mistake | dr. jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!attending!wife!reader

warnings: language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), jack defends you because you are his lovely wife <3

word count: 1.8k

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. ANON THANK YOUUUU FOR THIS REQUEST <3 i adored this one <3 this is a continuation of ring of fire set in the future, but it's not necessary to read to understand this fic. if you would like to, though, you can find that here <3 not proofread so apologies for any errors!

on monday, you resign yourself to cut the newbie some slack. i mean, alex doesn't know, and if he did, you're almost certain that he would knock that shit off immediately. but... there's a small part of you that finds it a little bit amusing. and maybe you should be good and hold your hand up and say the words that would make any wise man run far, far away: "sorry, kid. you know your attending? yeah, that's my husband."

but that would just be too easy.

tuesday, you're ultimately surprised by the gumption that he has to continue to flirt with you. he says your name like he's purring it, and you can't help but scrunch your nose up slightly, looking up at the board to see where your skills are most needed. the amusement has mostly dissipated, being followed by a certain brand of annoyance that only a twenty five year old boy can draw out of you.

you roll your head to look at your forty nine year old man, coming out of the trauma that had come in thirty minutes ago, only to find that his gaze is already on you. his cheeks are slightly red, hands on his hips, eyebrows screwed up in that way that indicate to you that he's weighing his options about what the best course of action is, here. you wave at him with your fingers, and the new resident, alex, follows your gaze. he gives a big toothy grin to your attending and it takes everything within you to keep your face as neutral as possible. "man, abbot's a cool fuckin' dude," he says under his breath with a truly earnest reverence, and it almost makes you feel bad. almost.

"he's the best of us," you say, and it's entirely truthful. you can tell that jack is still cued in on your conversation. you slide your glance back over to him and wink before you look back to alex.

"yeah." he doesn't take a beat to look back at you with that unbridled hunger that he had been throwing your way through both of the shifts you'd worked together. "so. what're you doing after all of this?"

with raised eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders. "i have an idea or two." he looks just a hair too excited, and your face drops. "not like that. you know, if you want to be a doctor, you do need to actually have an attention for detail." you raise your left hand, revealing the gold band that you wear when you're working. “less flirting. more charting. go.”

when you look over at abbot with a slight exasperation, he just raises one eyebrow at you, and offers a tentative thumbs up– almost a question.

you give him a thumbs up back.

–

the next day, alex was going around to every person that you both worked with, attempting to get intel on you, and your love life.

dana scoffs when she hears the words come out of his mouth. “i mean, he can’t be all that. there’s no way he’s better than me. i was a diver at duke! i had a full ride!” the words are said with such true arrogance that even dana has to laugh.

“oh, kid, if only you knew.” she claps him on the shoulder and points her finger at him. “i’m only gonna tell you this once, alright– after that, you’re on your own. and don’t say i didn’t warn you.” she looks at him down the bridge of his nose– a remarkable feat, considering alex is nearing 6’1. “you don’t want to try your luck. you feel me?”

“but–”

“ah– what did i just say? you don’t want to try your luck. believe me.” she claps that same shoulder again. “and if you do, i knew nothing, and had nothing to do with it.”

you lean against the counter, very obviously eavesdropping, not like you really care– when abbot slides up beside you. he looks over his shoulder at alex, who is, of course, already looking at you. when he meets abbot’s gaze, his eyes go wide and he turns right around, going back to north-11 to finish up with the norovirus patient that jack had put him on. following jack’s line of sight, you can’t help but smirk as you watch alex take in a big gulp of air, slap a mask on, and step into what you’re sure is a hell made entirely of shit and vomit.

“you know,” you say lowly, your elbow brushing jack’s. “that is just mean.”

“all interns get a noro case when they come in,” he says seamlessly, looking between the board and the patient notes that he’s trying to wrap up. “it’s textbook.”

“his first day was three days ago. you usually give it at least a couple of weeks before you start sticking them on noro or food poisoning.”

“not all interns flirt with my wife, relentlessly, in front of me.” jack puts his undivided attention on you.

“oh my god.” you’re smirking. you’re smirking, wide, at your computer. when you look over at jack, you say, “you’re not seriously jealous of the kid?”

“it’s about respect.”

“i don’t think he’s even picked up on us yet. which is hilarious, in and of itself.” you finish up with your chart and put a hand on your hip. “no one’s telling him.”

“he keeps this shit up, he’ll be hearing it from me.”

you hum and pat your hand on his chest. he catches it, his thumb rubbing at the ring you wear. “you’re sexy when you’re jealous,” you say under your breath, close enough to him that you can get away with a little workplace flirting.

“i’m not jealous.”

–

he is jealous.

he’s jealous when he watches this kid– yeah, you may only be five years older than him, but he doesn’t linger on that fact too long– blatantly flirt with you. he gets jealous when alex leans in slightly towards you during shift, just a little too close than is friendly while you review patient notes and ongoing care. but then, he watches you do your little semi-awkward shuffle to the left, and he can’t even help his smirk. and then you look over your shoulder, make this face that says, can you believe this guy? and suddenly, it’s not that he’s jealous. it’s just that he loves you.

but then, on that thursday, alex touches you.

at first, you don’t even notice what he’s done. a little piece of hair has fallen into your eyes out of the tortoiseshell clip that you love so much– the one that jack picked up for you at a cvs because he knows how much you love tortoiseshell. and it’s so faint that you barely even register it. but it doesn’t matter. because you may not have realize, but jack certainly has.

alex’s hand hasn’t even dropped from where he’s tucking that loose piece of hair behind your ear when jack surges up, dana hot on his heels. “woah, woah, woah, let’s all cool it–” dana starts, but it’s no use.

jack puts a firm hand on alex’s shoulder, squeezing tighter than necessary. certainly firm enough to drive home his point. “hey, buddy,” jack says lowly, just enough so that alex can hear him loud and clear, without causing a scene that draws the attention of the entire emergency department. he has that sort of simmering intensity that always makes something swirl in your belly. “look, i’ve tried to be cool, man. i really have. but i’m only going to tell you this one time before i pull in a favor with gloria so that you complete your residency somewhere else. keep those grubby fucking hands off of my wife.”

mortification is an understatement for what you assume alex must be feeling. his face is beet red, eyes darting between you and abbot so fast you’d want to get him in for a head CT if he kept it up any longer. “i– holy shit– i did not know.”

“i know you didn’t,” jack says with a resolute nod. “but now you do. so keep your hands to yourself and we won’t have a problem.” he pats alex’s back once, and you cover your mouth with one hand and peer over at dana with wide eyes. she, can only shrug, roll her eyes, put her readers back on, and turn back to the charge desk. “go get a sandwich from the bin and take ten minutes. go.” 

alex looks at you and you feel bad, almost. you smile at him and say, “next time, if a woman says she’s not interested… take it at face value, before jack abbot has to get involved.”

“yes, ma’am. it will not happen again.” alex gives one last nod to jack, like a nervous teenage boy, before he’s off running towards the staff lounge with his tail between his legs.

jack rubs a hand over his face. you bite down on your lip, look at him, and you start to chuckle. soon, jack’s laugh begins to mix with yours, coalescing until you’re leaning against the charge desk with tears clouding your vision, his dimples fully out and on display.

“man,” he says, shaking his head. “i feel a little bad.” he says, his laughter still holding him by the sleeve, begging to tug him back under.

“you should be. you’re scary,” you say while his thumb catches one of the stray tears on your cheek.

he snorts. “i’m about as scary as a kitten.”

“i dunno. i think our friend would beg to differ.” you lean into him and squeeze his arm before you force yourself to pull away– you like to exude some semblance of professionalism at work. even if the thing you want to do is drag your husband to the on-call room and ravage him for defending your honor.

“yeah, well. guess i reserve it for special circumstances.” he crosses his broad arms over his chest and looks you, up and down. they land on your face and soften. “i love you, kid.” the way he calls you kid, versus alex, makes your chest squeeze. an old habit from your residency, a reminder of where you were and how far you've come now.

the fondness that you feel for him never gets smaller. the longer you've been with him, from that time where you were his resident, smoking weed on his living room floor and wondering if there was a world where this could all work... the thing that always remained true and steady was how much you liked jack. right down to his bones, you liked him.

how can you capture that all in a sentence?

you don't know. but you settle on, "i love you," emphasis on the most important word there is.

[flwrstqr]

❪ 日语 ❫ 𓈒 ㅤ DREAMER, ENHYPEN AS YOUR HUSBAND ╰—— 𝓲. ⸝⸝𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖾 𝗂'𝗆 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗇𝖽.

── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽

‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : husband!enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ you on your lady days for riki's part TT, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】

다니 : since this won the poll,, i'll post this first (>//<) trust i'll post the other one tomorrow or some day over the weekends

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 heeseung never lets you sit anywhere but on his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck. “baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin. you giggle, hitting his arm in a teasing way. “hee, we’ve been married for years. aren’t you tired of flirting?” he pulls back, feigning offense. “never. in fact—” he tilts his head, eyes dark with mischief�� “i think i’ve gotten better at it.” you roll your eyes, but he steals a kiss before you can retort, his lips melting into yours. “mm, still obsessed with me, huh?” you tease, and he smirks, tightening his hold. “hopelessly. my wife’s too gorgeous, what am i supposed to do?” you try to glare at him, but he only kisses your pout away, laughing as he pulls you closer.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 "jay, what the hell is this?" you gape at the endless shopping bags filling your living room, designer logos flashing at you like a personal boutique had exploded in your home. your husband grins, draping an arm around your waist. "happy two-week wedding anniversary, baby." you blink at him. "two weeks, jay. who even celebrates that?" he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. "me. because i love you. and i love spoiling my wife." you groan, burying your face in his chest as he chuckles. "you're insane." he tilts your chin up, eyes twinkling. "insanely in love with you." you roll your eyes, but your heart flutters when he kisses you like he’d marry you all over again if he could. "just say thank you, pretty girl," he whispers against your lips. sighing, you wrap your arms around his neck. "thank you, my crazy but handsome husband."

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake finds you curled up on the couch, your soft breaths filling the quiet room, the tv still playing faintly in the background. his heart melts instantly—his wife, waiting for him, only to fall asleep. he crouches beside you, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. "my pretty girl," he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. he leans in, pressing the softest kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. you stir slightly, lips parting, but he soothes you with a gentle hand on your back. “shh, sleep, baby,” he whispers, then, without hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to his chest. he chuckles under his breath, pressing another feather-light kiss to your temple. “always waiting for me,” he sighs, carrying you to bed.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon hums, fingers tracing lazy circles on your hip as you both lie tangled in the sheets. “how about waffles, since we had it for breakfast?” he murmurs, lips brushing against your temple. you scoff, flicking his forehead. “hoon, that’s the ugliest name ever.” he chuckles, pulling you closer, his skin warm against yours. “fine, then you come up with one, genius.” you pause, thinking, and he watches you with that soft, lovestruck gaze. “hmm… i like soojin for a girl.” “soojin,” he repeats, testing it on his tongue. “pretty. what about a boy?” “maybe—” “no,” he interrupts, voice low, teasing. “i vote for waffles.” you groan, burying your face in his chest. “we’re never having kids.” he just laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair. “too late, sweetheart. i already imagined a little waffle park running around.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 “baby, you have a fever,” sunoo pouts, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead for the tenth time in the past minute. you groan, swatting him away, but he’s already tucking the blanket tighter around you. “stay still, i’ll get you some medicine.” before you can protest, he’s gone, returning moments later with a glass of water, a thermometer, and— “sunoo, why did you bring an entire first aid kit?” he huffs, ignoring you as he carefully pops a pill into your palm. “just in case! what if your fever suddenly skyrockets? or you faint? or—” “baby,” you mumble, tugging at his sleeve, “i think i’ll survive.” he softens instantly, cupping your cheek. “i just don’t like seeing you sick,” he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “so let me take care of you, okay?” you sigh, giving in.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon notices before you even say a word. at exactly three hours into the party, he glances at you, eyes flickering down to your heels, and like clockwork, you mumble, “my heels hurt…” without missing a beat, he’s already reaching for your hand, guiding you toward a quieter corner. “i knew it,” he murmurs, setting down his drink before crouching in front of you. “here, hold onto me.” you blink as he loosens the straps, slipping your heels off with gentle hands. “won, you didn’t have to—” “of course, i did,” he interrupts softly, pulling out a pair of flats from the bag he brought—because of course, he thought ahead. your heart swells as he looks up, grinning. “i always know what you need.” you shake your head, laughing, but as he presses a kiss to your lips, you realize—yeah, he really does.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "babe, what size do i have to get?" riki’s panicked voice crackles through the phone, and you bite back a laugh, curled up in bed with a heating pad pressed to your stomach. "riki, it's not jeans, just get the ones i always use," you tease, hearing him groan dramatically on the other end. "yeah, but there's like—fifty kinds! wings, no wings, overnight, ultra-thin—why is this so complicated?" he whines, and you can practically picture him, standing in the aisle with a distressed look, glaring at the shelves. you giggle, and he huffs. "stop laughing at me, i'm suffering for you," he grumbles, but then softer, "do you need anything else? chocolate? a heating pad? tell me, baby, i got you." your heart melts, even as he keeps acting nonchalant. "just hurry back, riki." "i'm already running," he says, and you know he means it.

[seasidefallenangel]

gimme, gimme, gimme a man (2)

calling bllk boys your husband while you're still dating ft. bachira meguru, alexis ness, karasu tabito, otoya eita, shidou ryusei

notes: part 2 to this, fluff, banter, down bad loverboys, use of "wife" in alexis and karasu's, suggestive in shidou's (he's his own warning)

༄ bachira:

“megs, please stop moving - yeah, hi. my husband lost his id and we just need a replacement.”

✣ the second those words leave your mouth the cogs in his head are sent into hyperdrive. he’s barely ever thought of himself as boyfriend material, nevermind husband. for you to proclaim it so boldly in front of others makes him incredibly giddy with joy - to the point where his uncontrollable giggles begin to make the rest of the patrons and government workers a bit paranoid.

⁀➷ bachira’s latched onto you like koala as the two of you exit the office after getting the new id and a handful of concerned looks from the other people inside. his grin is so bright it almost hurts your eyes, and all he can say over and over is “husband? i’m your husband, right? when are we getting married? what kind of dress do you want? what’s the color scheme? i have to ask isagi if he’ll be my best man, and -!” you try to shut him up with a kiss, but the second your lips part he goes right back to babbling about your ‘upcoming’ wedding. you made your bed, so guess now you have to lay in it.

༄ alexis: “can me and my husband just get a slice of sachertorte and a mini quiche?”

✣ so, so, in love with you. you’re already his wife, soulmate, reason for living, so hearing you reciprocate his fantasies has him on cloud nine. he’s staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and his grip on your hand only tightens at your words. it doesn’t matter if people think he’s moving too fast, if he’s too dedicated to you - because you feel the same way. how could he ever even fathom letting you slip from his grasp?

⁀➷ “what season do you want our wedding to be in?” he asks softly as the two of you sit by the cafe window. despite his favorite dessert being right in front of him, he can’t be bothered to eat it. not when you’re across from him, your divinity blessing his meager existence. the question surprises you a bit as he takes your hand, lightly kissing across your knuckles. your expression is so adorable, he can’t help the small laugh that leaves him when he continues, “we’re getting married soon, aren’t we? i’ve already planned the ring i want for you, and i really don’t want to wait that much longer to make you mine.”

༄ karasu:

“hmm, i think they’re too small… oh, excuse me? do you mind getting a bigger size for my husband?”

✣ amused by how blatant you are about it. sure, he knows he wants to marry you someday, but he didn’t expect you to take these jumps so early. he doesn't mind it at all, though. domesticity has always been in the back of his mind when it comes to relationships, preferring to invest in long term romances than lust-filled flings like a certain friend of his. there’s been roughly a billion fantasies involving married life with you, and there’s about to be ten billion more now that you’ve called him that.

⁀➷ “husband, hm?” he says with a smirk as the store employee goes to grab the other pair of shoes. you turn to him with a raised eyebrow and unamused look, asking if he has a problem with it. raising his arms in defense, he simply chuckles and tells you, “not at all, babe. just wondering how i bagged a cute wife when i haven’t even proposed yet.” you just roll your eyes and turn back to the shelves to compare the other cleats. unable to resist, he stands and rests his hands on your waist to whisper into your ear, “your husband didn’t bother getting you a ring? seems like a scumbag. i’ll buy you one right after this,” before placing a gentle kiss on your lips - and rest assured, he’s true to his word.

༄ otoya:

“if you’re gonna keep flirting with my husband, you can fuck off.”

✣ scared out of his mind. he never planned to have any sort of long term relationship with you yet it happened to naturally. for the first time in his life, he found himself being the yearner instead of having his lovers chasing him down. hearing you call him your husband confirms to himself he’s totally smitten. it’s pathetic and frankly terrifying, but he thinks he’d die if he let you go. so of course, you’re with him the one time he really isn’t flirting with someone else and they won’t leave him alone. just his luck.

⁀➷ as the two of you walk back from the coffee shop, he’s convinced he’s about to see all nine of his ninjutsu lives be cut down with the way you’re steaming. the silence is killing him though, and he simply lets out a shaky “babe?” to test the waters. when you turn towards him with rage burning in your eyes, he knows he’s fucked ; except you take his cheeks between your hands and pull him down, telling him he belongs to you and you only. he’s shaking with how passionate you are, realizing you did believe him and it’s everyone else you don’t trust. heart pounding out of his chest, he feels a bit of relief begin to come back. yeah, he doesn’t mind being your husband one bit.

༄ shidou:

“i’m so sorry about my husband's behavior. he didn’t mean to offend you like that.”

✣ first of all, yes he did. second of all, this is probably the worst mistake you’ve ever made. shidou already has you-induced psychosis, so anything you do to feed his ego and remind him that you also like him back just creates an even bigger monster. he tries to steal a kiss in the middle of you speaking, but you know him too well and drag him down by the ear into an apologetic bow. consider him whipped, cause you putting him in his place is so painfully attractive to him he’s about to get down on that one knee now.

⁀➷ “is that any way to be treating your husband?” he says with a shit eating grin while you tug him by the collar down the sidewalk. the restriction around his neck should be painful, but he loves seeing you annoyed so much that he certainly can’t feel it. when you mutter something about already getting a divorce, his smile drops and he digs his teeth into your neck, making you yelp in pain and elbow him in the stomach. he laughs maniacally before brushing his lips against your ear and telling you, “see? we’re made for each other, babe. hurt me a little more, will ya?”

[satrs]

Good lord that post with married au of Caleb and Mc had me sweating. Could you please write one more with the same au. I love the way you write, it’s so poetic and beautiful!

Hihu nonnie! I‘m flattered, really! Tysm!!! And tbh, I‘ve been wanting to write more about husband caleb HIHIHI soooo I'm going crazyyy now LETS GET IT LETS GET IT ^^

Husband!Caleb who's never one to follow tradition until your wedding. He dips down infront of your seated form to slip under your wedding dress infront of everyone. His teeth graze your thigh as he pulls down the white stroking wraped around your thigh, just as tradition calls him to. Before he comes up he licks a sly stripe up your laced panties, already excited to rip them off after this whole ordeal is over. He's met with your gasping and laughing guests, the fabric tucked between his teeth, shooting your flustered form a mischevous grin.

Husband!Caleb who can't keep his hands throughout the wedding off you at all. Wheter it's a kiss to your temple, his hand stroking your waist or a playful squeeze to your breast when no one's looking. Because, why should he? From today onwards, You’re his by law now. His wife. Everybody and their momma in here are gonna know that too, even if he has to drill it into their brain.

Husband!Caleb who's on you the moment you both get into your hotel room on your wedding night, not even bothering to take off your wedding dress as he scrambles through the layers of lace to bury himself deep into you. He cries as bad as he did infront of the altar earlier today, completely showering you in praises, dooting you with soooo much love.

Husband!Caleb's always jealous. But now that you both are married and some dickheads can't seem to see the fat shining rock on your finger, he's got you pinned to the door after a night-out now. "Hate those bastards flirting with you", he mutters between kisses, jaw clenching at the thought of that damned waiter from earlier, daring to slip you his number under the bill he paid for. “Mine. Say it, say you're my wife. Mine ta' love—” he fucks you slow but deep, marking every inch of you like a man starved, "and that sweet pussy of yours is mine ta' fuck."

Husband!Caleb lovesss to do daily activities with his wife— like showering. You’re brushing your teeth in the morning shower in a rush because you're late for work (your husband refused to let go of your body in the morning) when the culprit silently joins you. He pulls you in without a word, kissing you hard, groaning into your mouth as if he didn't have his full last night, “Already miss bein' inside of ya'. C'mon, call in sick today,” he takes you up against the tile, water cascading over your tangled limbs, steam clouding the space and the world beyond it, "Wanna love on my darlin' wife."

Husband!Caleb loves how you let him do what he wants, even at a formal fleet dinner like this. His hand disappears under the tablecloth halfway through the night, and you try to keep a straight face and listen to the unimportant higher-ups ranting on and on how well of a job your husband does while he lazily teases your slick folds. "M-mhmmm, I know, he's— incredible!" Caleb chuckles at your slight slip-up, fingers now dipping into your heat as he places a soothing kiss to your temple, eyes locked on you as he speaks to the backround characters, fingers curling right against your g-spot, "Truth is, I just married wayyy up. All credits to my wife."

Husband!Caleb who bends you over the counter as you're making breakfast in nothing but that cute apron he bought you that says 'Hotter Than My Oven'. His fingers are teasing, squeezing your perked tits under the apron before landing a playful smack to your exposed ass, “You really think I can wait till after breakfast when my wife 's all cutesy in this apron? Hell nah.”

Husband!Caleb cherishes moments like these, when you visit him in his office as a surprise just to “check in.” You end up bent over his desk, muffling moans against his hand, wedding band cold on your pursed lips while he fucks you into oblivion. “C-could visit me more often here— f-fuckkk! Loveeee your company—", he cuts himself off with one bullying thrust to your cervix, surely bruising something inside you and you're worrying if you can even go home by yourself after this, "—and her's too."

Husband!Caleb lives for lazy morning sex because he's just insatiable when it comes to you. He slips one hand between your thighs to make enough room so his leaking tip can align to your soaked entrance. He starts kissing down your back as he stuffes you full, inch by inch, softly coaxing you awake with soft bites and low groans. “Just lay there and lemme spoil my wife, pretty girl."

Husband!Caleb can't deny the weird feeling in his gut as he sees a baby of one of his officers in your arms as you coo little nonsense to it. He married you already, and maybe it’s time for some mini you‘s running around now, no? So he makes it his life's mission to pump you full of his seed from every day onward, catching neighbours complaint after complaint. But he couldn't care less, not at the image of you round and plumb with his child (or twins, he wouldn't mind), a lovestruck grin on his face as his neighbour gets on and on about you both being too loud for the nth time this week.

Husband!Caleb's dedication is actually out of this world. He's so certain that after he'd plugged you full of at least four of his loads and propped a pillow below you to lift your legs up, that you're surely pregnant now.

Husband!Caleb just smirks in triumph after you show him the two pink stripes on the test, strong muscles lifting you up, spinning around, telling you 'how excited he is on being a papa' and 'how good of a mother you'll be', before he settles you down onto the matress, celebrating his victory by having a nasty make-out session with your cute obidient cunt as a 'thank you'.

Husband!Caleb can never get enough of you and would never want to, because you both are bound together. Forever. Not even death will do you two apart, because he refuses to ever leave you. You're husband and wife—bound, destined and live together happily ever after.

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 2025. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[nyxiswrites1200]

Thinking of John Price being married to the prettiest wife. He invites Soap, Ghost, and Gaz over to his house where his pretty girl is sitting in the pool in the smallest bikini.

Getting all flustered because of the other guys but Price kisses her and says it's fine.

Ghost especially can't help but stare. He's never seen something so pretty in his life. Price knows you like him, you like the masked brooding L.T.

You sweetly ask for permission and of course Price grants it. You get to flirt with Ghost and hold on to his muscular arm while you try to convince him to get in the pool. However you just end up beneath him on a pool chair as he touches you.

"You take good care of your husband, love?"

"Mhm, I do. Let daddy fill me up all the time"

"You got room for one more?"

Letting him fuck you as Soap and Gaz try not to stare but they sit on the edge of the pool with their cocks hard. Price watching as he shamelessly strokes his cock, asking you how you like Ghost's dick in your tummy because it's so big.

Ghost fucking you in the backyard of your husband's house as the rest of em watch, trying not to be pervs. But you're just a sweet pretty little thing :( they can't help it.

Ghost is pounding you, making you moan so loudly. Good thing there's a tall fence surrounding the yard. He's got you pinned under his large frame, not even undressed.

Soap and Gaz cum in their swim trunks and Price's shoots over his happy trail on his stomach as Ghost pumps you full, leaving you dripping with his cum. You already know Price is going to want to fuck it back into you tonight along with his own.

Ghost was sweet though. Sent you flowers when he was away because he didn't want you to feel used even if you did want his cock anyway...

An: I don't know what came over me guys <3

[illou-sainte]

Rub it in their face, put a rock on her hand!

pairings: husband!zayne x wife!reader

cw: making out, jealousy, slight possessive!reader, fluff, zayne loves you sm,

You know what Zayne finds hot about you? Is when you're proud to show off that he's married to you. You're not married to him, he's the ONE married to you.

He adores how proudly you show off the wedding ring he gave you--how the big rock shines so brightly like you did on your wedding day.

He's one lucky man--loud and proud to show off that you got him wrapped around your little finger. And one thing he likes about when you show off the ring to others is when you're jealous.

Already sensing something bad from the newcomer nurse that was assigned to the cardiac department--how she always been pestering your husband whenever he goes. And of course, her attempts at flirting and asking out Zayne for a date are always dismissed.

Not that he wants to remain professional, it's just that he'd rather die than spend his time with anyone besides his wife.

You can't help but bat an eye on the nurse and of course as cocky as she is--she gives back the same energy, raising her brow at you with a judging look on her face as if you're nothing to her. And that hit your last nerve.

Zayne instructed her to drop off some files to Yvonne and get the new files back to his office--of course, she followed his orders like a puppy. Smiling happily as she takes the files from your husband's desk, making you roll your eyes as you crossed your arms and lean against the couch. As the nurse takes her leave Zayne approached you and noticed your grumpy look.

"Hm, my wife is feeling grumpy again?" He teased--sitting beside you while he smiled, putting a hand over your thigh making you pout at him when he poked your cheek.

Before words can come out of your husband's mouth, your hand quickly reaches to his tie as you pull it towards you--making Zayne's eyes widen as both of lips comes in contact. His eyes softened, melting to the warmth of your soft lips against his as he closed his eyes.

Your left hand travels to his nape as your fingers soothe his black locks. The ring wrapped around your finger shining brightly when it got hit by the light on top.

You hear the door of Zayne's office opening as the nurse comes in--she froze at her spot as she witnesses the scene in front.

You opened your eyes--having an eye contact with the nurse who's looking at you in disbelief. Enjoying the savor of your husband's lips against your soft ones, while your fingers soothe the back of his hair-- the ring wrapped around shining brightly as you show it off while you look at her filled with pride.

You watched her quickly get out of the office as she closes the door--you pull back from the kiss as a string of saliva connects on both of your lips. Zayne looks at you as he gives you one peck on your lips as you giggle. He smiles and caressed your cheek with his left hand the coldness of the ring touching your skin.

"Did someone came in, honey?" He asked you, while you shook your head and smiled as you gave a kiss on his palm.

"hmm, I don't think so"

He's your wife:((