Get Him Some Money Too

Temptress' Game (Male!JessicaRabbitxReader) 1/2

~A/N: Hey lovelies!! As most of you know, this is a lemon, meaning only those who are old enough will be able to read the second part!! ;)~

~Also, this is a *CONTINUATION* of my original piece (one-shot), so don't read on unless you wanna be confused.

~Enjoy~

Life wasn't meant to be this perfect. It was meant be longingly watched on the silver screen until you were given a dose of the bland, mediocre reality. And yet your world has been set ablaze with a fire that burns to your core and leaves you breathless. All because of the man who now shares with you everything he is-his life, his heart, his dreams and fears, and his name.

(F/n) Rabbit. What level of absurd luck were you blessed with to become wife of the epitome of a woman's desires? That strawberry hair; that crooked, pearl smile; that sultry yet husky voice; those penetrating powder blue eyes. They're all yours, all bending to whatever your will bids of them without a moment's delay.

Except when that involves breaking away from your arms or lips seconds before he has to be on stage for a performance.

You giggle against his full lips that claim yours every time you attempt to lean away and speak. "Jessie," you whisper amidst a laugh, his mouth moving to nibble on your ear. "We can't do this right now! You're on in thirty seconds."

He sighs over dramatically into the hand that suddenly clasps his mouth. "Darling, you know I have no self-control when it comes to you," he mutters.

"I noticed," you laugh again, settling down at his eyes that deepen in adoration. Giving in as you always do to his passion, you remove your hand to kiss him softly, fervently, pulling a longing sigh from him when you part. He smiles the same one you've come to realize he's shown you from the start, the one that silently says "I love you." Jessie flinches when you playfully slap him on the cheek. "Show time, big boy. Knock em dead."

You scamper off stage a matter of seconds before the curtain opens. Even then, Jessie is chuckling to himself over the now inside joke to the audience. As soon as he raises the mic to sing his rendition of "L.O.V.E.", you take your usual leave to his dressing room to await his return.

A portly man in his mid forties waddles out his office up ahead. "(L/n)!" He waves a heavily-ringed hand to gain your attention.

It's getting harder to respond to my old last name, you laugh internally. "Yes, Mr. Browne?" you say to your boss.

"Jessie on stage already?" he asks. A cacophony of flustered squeals erupts. He chortles sloppily. "Take that as a 'yes.' You can tell the kid when he finishes agitating women's sex drives. Just got off the phone with the mayor. You now that ritzy shindig she's throwing for her kind Friday? Turns out she wants to have an after-party of sorts here. Jessie's set manager is already cooking up something for him to wow the crowd with, so I need you to work your usual magic and keep him focused. Oh, and I shouldn't have to tell ya that a pretty little bonus is waiting for ya's if this goes well."

A bonus?! That means we'll be able to afford that condo.

"Understood! Thank you, Mr. Browne," you say, quickly dismissing yourself to the right wing at the sound of applause. The violet-hued lights glint off Jessie and his sequins while he backs up, waving to the cheering audience with that same, infallible charm. You dart to his side the instant the curtains close and catch a glimpse of his elusive second eye when he whips his head towards you out of surprise.

"Sweetie, what're you doing back here?" He smiles instinctually at having you clasped to his arm but glances about to ensure no one plays witness to this appreciated yet scandalous display of affection. You pull him impatiently to his dressing room in such an uncharacteristic manner that he can't help chuckling. "Wait, what's the rush, darling?"