#THEIR THE SAME AGE HERE💔

[burstbub]

I cried

[devasdiary]

Alex and Nigel as knights templar ♤

[dilf-docs]

My Baby's Fit Like A Daydream

husband!pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your relationship is finally out to the world. now, pedro and you will explore what it feels like to have your love out in the open.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, FLUFF, the empire of bad humor strikes again, hurt/comfort bc all roads lead back to angst, a brief mention of bodyshaming, this is lowkey pwp my bad, dirty talk, fingering, p. in v., bathroom sex ijbol, exhibition kink (they be fucking everywhere but in a bed), degradation kink (he calls her a slut twice), the one and only creampie (twice), so naturally: breeding kink, ALSO pls stop the husband!pedro reqs, i beg. a delulu girl can only take so much 💔

word count: 10,991 words

side note: not one but two requests to be fullfilled! this is as a sequel to call it what you want. also, spam time: i happen to write in wattpad as well, and i have a pedro pascal social media fic going on :) but it's on spanish tho. if u speak the language and would like to tune in, read it here AND spam again but speaking of the ptwt dynamic, why don't we become moots? check my (new) stan twitter account here (i had one in 2022 that i had since 2016 but entered a crisis and deleted it lol)

part: prev | masterlist | next

The news had spread like wildfire.

As soon as you hit the red carpet, hand on hand, rings finally on display―shining under the spotlight, your phone had been blowing up nonstop: every show, podcast, tabloid, news outlet and social media had been talking about it. California had turn into an easter egg playground; everyone was eager to know it all.

(They had found the church where you married, the dress boutique, jewelry shop where Pedro bought the rings―the employees ratted him out, even sharing pictures of the moment, your husband posing with them without knowing of the future treason. They too had found the place where the reception took place, and even the name of the priest who had married you, but he refused to give the hungry press any details. God Bless)

In short, it had been a hell of a week. You figured dissapearing for a while was for the best, but with some interviews still left, that option had been discarded. Still, doesn't mean you couldn't retreat for a couple of days to the tranquility of your home while it was time to show up again. Well, as peaceful as it could get, since reporters were camping near your house and roaming around Hollywood Hills like vultures; the neighbour's nagging was just another layer of problems in your shit cake.

"I'm sorry, Louis. Walks will be postponed for a while" you talk to your cat, but the lazy bastard just stretches and lays down again. "Yeah, I can see you're affected. Don't cry"

"It's not the cat's fault" Pedro emerges from behind, "don't take it out on him"

He takes a sit next to you, two mugs in hand. He gives you the one with a chocolate steam, a souvenir he bought when you visited your home country last summer. You wonder if that's a trip you'll ever be able to make again.

"I'm not. Just- It's horrible that I can't even go outside my own house and walk the same roads I've walked in four years because the press is hidden with cameras in, I don't know, bushes!" you exclaim, quiet rage carried within your words. "It's unfair, really. All I want is to walk my damn cat without a flash up my ass"

Pedro nestles his face in your neck, nose carressing the skin. Giggles leave your lips, the sensation ticklish.

"It'll pass. It always does" he says, voice assuring, probably because he's used to the violation of privacy, but you're not. Getting bigger, is this the price to pay for making a name for yourself and claiming out loud who you love?

"I hope so" you murmur above the quietness of your home, a sound as eerie as fake, devoid of it's tranquil nature as a world of invasion awaits outside.

"Do you trust me?" Pedro speaks, voice unwavering. He holds your gaze, steady brown challening your shaky orbs.

"I do" you speak up, yet you wish you could believe it. You believe in him, there's no question to that, but do you believe in yourself? That the love you'd put out to the world would be treated with the same care and respect you have treated it in secret? For a fleating moment, you miss the secrecy.

"Then trust me this will be over sooner than expected" he presses a kiss to your lips, soft and sweet, feeling remanents of chocolate he licks away, as you mockingly yell ¡Qué sucio! but it's devoid of malice. "In time, this will become another anecdote we'll share with our kids, and laugh with our grandkids when we get older"

You smile, feeling tears in the corner of your eyes. Oh, doesn't he turn you into a pathetic sappy wife?

"Well" you sniffle, giggling to push back the tears away. "About the old part..."

He playfully kicks your side. "Uno ya no puede ser romántico, que le salen con estas cosas. Your generation could use some respect, you know?" (one can't simply be romantic anymore)

Pedro gets up, picking the mug from your hands as both rings brush together, the gold shinning under the morning Californian sun.

"And your generation could take a joke" you quip, lips curled up like you hadn't in weeks.

"Very funny, y/n. Thought you loved me" but then he's pressing a kiss to your temple like kissing you once isn't enough, promising to return after washing down the mugs.

"I do!" you shout to his dissapearing broad frame as he enters the kitchen, and he playfully makes a dissmissing move with his palm.

The laughing dies when your phone chimes next to you.

You shouldn't really, but the curiosity that draws you in is as intense as a magnet. The phone burns on its position, screaming for you to open it, despite being told by your husband that the best was choice was to ignore it until the buzz had died down, but you're afraid the turmoil isn't nowhere to be finished. Comments can be mean, he'd said, they can hurt you. Pedro said he'd learn with time to ignore it, but he was experienced. You weren't, so naturally, as your husband and protector, he wanted to shield you from the pain.

Although, both of your fandoms had been pretty supportive of your relationship, some user even claiming to suspect it, making threads full of easter eggs and connections that validated the theory which was now a reality. I've connected the dots, followed by pictures of you sharing wardrobe, slips on interviews, similar backgrounds in your posts across social media, and of course, the two Gladiator Ii interviews. Many resorted to making edits or screaming over your pictures in the premiere, demanding for more content you had yet caved in to share (there was a gigantic carpet of evidence sitting heavy in your cloud).

So, in a way, this support made it hard for you to truly dimension the hate Pedro warned you about: all you saw was fans being happy and showering you with love, making paparazzi to be the only problem as for now.

That's it.

You cave in, turning the phone on as you bite your lip, searching first your Instagram: a bunch of new followers, many with variations of ispunk on their usernames, as well as a swarm of comments on your recent posts. There's a small voice in your head telling you to turn away, but your thumb moves without thinking, clicking on pictures of the red carpet―a carrousel of you and then a picture of you both at the end, one fans had been gushing about the last couple of days, rings on display, practically up their noses. You were smiling, and Pedro was looking at you fondly, his other hand holding Lux but his gaze never leaving yours; he was too perfect to be real―yours.

You unconsciously smile at the captured moment, love obvious on your faces, so you open the comments, thinking it would be the same support or love radiating of the comment.

But boy, weren't you wrong?

It was all the same, support lost between waves of hate. Variations of bodyshaming, age shaming and even gold digger claims were on full display across the comment section. "She's ugly" "In it for the money, am I right?" "I thought Pedro had better taste, lol" "She got the role in Gladiator II because of nepotism. Or cocksucking" and then a cruel answer that read "Right, threesome with Ridley. Ew, what a whore!"

Worst of it all, some even had Pedro profile pictures, or usernames and accounts dedicated to him.

Your heart was beating like crazy, chest heavy and hollow, face red with emotions you couldn't quite place (embarrasment? fear? rage? sadness?) as you kept searching across Twitter*, doing a quick skim of the trendings that included you. The same hate speech pattern was all over the timeline, some betting for divorce in a couple of years (even months!), while others took their time dissecting your looks and relationship. As if they knew. Long gone were the edits and harmless threads: the hate wave was here to stay. Some where even being a bit racist, the irony of it all, being Pedro himself was latino and didn't shy away from it, rather proud as he didn't miss an opportunity to shot out his dear Chile. Or any social issue, as a matter of fact, very vocal on his political beliefs.

This was fucking ridiculous, and if the cameras were an issue, this swarm of negativity is what really took a toll on you, the flashes as you went grocery shopping now barely a scratch. No, this was worst. All you wanted to do was cuddle in a blanket while wearing one of Pedro's shirts and dissappear. Too much noise. Too much hate. You can feel it creeping up your body, tainting your soft curves, wrinkles, acne scars and face. It's like rough hands, tugging harsh, ripping your vocals because you can't scream; no words to express this pain.

You knew one day it would come, but never imagined the hurt and to what extent people were capable of. Cruelty. Dissecting your life and body like it was a show for them to be entertained: your marriage was a circus and your body a joke.

It hurt their condescending dismiss of your love, questioning as if the gap were only numbers and not a pillar of your relationship that made you and Pedro closer, despite the bridge in age. You were reduced to a middle-age crisis, and he to a filthy man pinning for a younger girl. Your body was turn apart, despite no real flaws existing. Humans are meant to be so, not perfect, but real, and that was the problem: you had turn into an object―a target for their dards to pierce through.

Your body shakes violently with cries, deafening your ears that you don't hear when Pedro walks in.

"Why are you crying?" he rushes to your side, panic on his voice. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You barely manage to shake your head, and then his eyes scan all over your features, until they land on the phone on your hands. The worry turns to anger as he asks:

"You looked at them, didn't you?"

He isn't yelling, but it would be better if he did. This contained fury, fading into dissapointment, as if you were a naive child scolded by their parents makes you feels small and stupid, as if you knew no better.

"I'm sorry-" you manage to choke out among tears, "I know you told me-"

"I told you" he interrupts, words laced with wrath, "so this wouldn't happen. See what happens?"

"Why are you talking to me like it's my fault?" you yell, and Pedro sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. "I didn't ask to receive all this! Do I deserve the death threats, shame and hate?"

He walks past you, and it's like a slap to your face. Was he going to behave like this? Didn't it matter how you felt, or was it something childish that could be brush to the side like nothing? Insecurities you hadn't even think of come crashing down on you, doubts creeping up and attacking you from all sides. It's horrible. You try to hold onto the good memories, praying you don't loose him. You can't. You just can't.

"Answer!" you demand, tears spilling like a broke dam.

"I was just closing the windows. Or do you want to fuel the talk, huh? Give the hungry hoard more to bite?" Pedro then stands to hold your gaze, and you hate that you can't place his emotions. Anxiety corrodes your brain: was this really the beginning of the end?

"Do I?" you dare to speak up, and even if its loud, it comes out drowned, the exhaustion from the emotional turmoil taking its toll on you. "Do I deserve it?"

"No, you don't, carajo!" Pedro bursts. "You don't deserve any of that, which is why I didn't want you looking at those things!"

He sighs, realizing the anger is misdirected.

"I'm sorry"

Your broken wails are the only thing to be heard. He hates himself for being a part of it, even if not the biggest.

"No, I'm sorry for being so stupid" you sob. "I-I just wanted for people to be as happy for us as I am with you"

"Come here" but he's the one cutting the space to embrace you.

His scent calms a part of you, body still rocking with violent shakes.

"You're not stupid. Nor ugly, or any of those things people are calling you. No, mi amor. You're beautiful, smart and talent. They fail to realize I'm the lucky one. So please, don't be hard on yourself, yeah? I can't bear to see it. Less if I know it's not true. You didn't ask for it; you don't deserve all that bullshit"

He presses a kiss to your temple, arms that hug you tighter holding you close close up to the point his heartbeat melts within your own.

I won't let you go. You won't fall as long as I got you.

"We'll get through this, yeah? Think of the future, and what's to come. It's hard, that I know, but let us enjoy the moment. Life is too precious to waste it away" he brushes stray tears with his thumb, softly and full of love that words aren't enough to express. "I'm here" the out loud, "and I'm not going anywhere. That's a promise"

Later that day, Pedro posts a carrousel of unseens, even one of your wedding (a video of your first dance), telling people to leave you alone. That he loves you, and that no malicious news, fans or comments will ever change that―suck it energy laced within his rageful statement.

Safe to say, in the next weeks, hate is barely a small voice whispering in the back of your neck, one that hushes down with each kiss and/or words uttered by your one and only devoted husband.

mandoshoney: y/n protection squad pull up, we ride at dawn starlightt180: unhing3dprincess WHERE ARE U??? PTWT IS IN SHAMBLES AND NEEDS U MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAAA elysyannemimi: i feel like a kid scolded by their dad. pedro has achieved the ultimate daddy status bobgirlll: is no one going to talk about how rageful/protective pedro sounded in that story????? NEED MORE FERAL PEDRO RN GRRrrrr ps. photos so cute, wish that was me lol pyramiidsf: i hope y/n is okay, ppl can be so cruel sometimes but at least she's got pedro on her side <3 he's such a perfect man :,)

It had been days since your fight.

In an sweet attempt to cheer you up, Pedro had taken you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant you can't remember the name of. If they'll snap pictures of my wife without my permission, I might as well show you off. So, per his petition, you had wore a little black dress that hugged every curve of your body perfectly and pushed your tits to the top. Stunning, he had growled, and it had been hard to push him off as he devoured your mouth in your house's doorstep.

"Let's give them talk" you had agreed.

So now you sat at the restaurant, Pedro filling your cup of wine for the third time in a row, talking about all and nothing: about politics, the weather, your siblings, Louis the cat, upcoming gigs around your home you wanted to go to, how support had risen and the hate had dwindled, the numerous calls of job offers and interviews to keep on milking your relationship... life had never been more hectic.

"You know, maybe the dress was a bad idea" he takes a bite of his meat, tone nonchalant.

"Yeah?" you challenge, cheeks flushed with alcohol, "why's that? I thought I had to look good. What changed your mind?"

"Turns out" he looks at you, gaze piercing through your body, brown warm eyes darkening, "I figured something"

You know your husband. It's still fresh in your mind the first day you took a notice of it: jaw clenching, gaze fixated at nothing and white fists balled up on to the sides, arms swinging while fingers itched. A vein on his forehead would pop, and brows would melt together in a furrow. It happened when you got recognized by a fan, on your early days, and he had taken a picture of you, uploading it to social media. Dating Pedro had been going on for little to five months, and the way this guy hugged you from behind, hand resting above your ass, had made your then-boyfriend see red. His posture stiffened, demeanor changed and face adquired all the characteristics above. There was only one correct answer: Pedro was jealous, so fucking jealous.

So here he is now, jealous to the bone, alcohol increasing the rage.

"And that is?" you push his buttons, something you normally wouldn't do, but you're drunk and God, so sex-starved. His possesive side was always hot, yet now? It had a layer of allure it didn't have before, the idea of calming him down long lost.

"You know what it is" he answers, but you tilt your head to the side, acting confused. Pedro growls, clenching the glass a bit too tight; you fear it'll break.

"No, I don't" you serve more wine in your glass, savouring the liquid. Some spills into your mouth, and you lick it while not breaking eye contact. "Enlighten me"

"Turns out" the words come out strained, a whirlwind of emotions burning in the tip of his tongue, "that I wanted people to look at my wife, but I looked their looks and realized I don't like how they look at her"

He rambles the words out, speech pattern slurred and ideas clashing into one another, clearly drunk.

"I see" you draw out, demeanor calm, but your panties have started to get wet.

"No" he hits the table, making your eyes go wide and people turn to your table. You should be embarrased, but you're only aroused. "You don't see what I see. And I hate it, I fucking hate it" he seethes, words spit out over your unfinished meal.

"Dessert?" the waiter appears from seemingly nowhere, menu on hand.

Pedro doesn't even look when he answers, "Sure. Bring your best"

"The chef's suggestion is Soufflé, a classic dessert from his country"

"That'll do" Pedro looks at you, but his brain seems to be somewhere else. Like he's thinking. "How long will it take?"

The waiter ponders the answer, yet doesn't think any weird of it.

"About twenty to thirty minutes. Would that be alright? Or would you prefer to switch to one of our quick-fixes? They're as delicious as our fresh and-"

"No" your husband interrupts, eyes shinning with something akin to dangerous. "We'll take the soufflé. Just want my wife to eat the very best"

The waiter smiles. "Sure, will be back in a few. More wine?"

Pedro stops the action, removing the bottle's neck from pouring more red liquid in your glass.

"Won't be needed"

They excuse themselves, leaving both of you alone. The restaurant bubbles with chat and instrumental music from a band playing on a corner, but all you hear is his heavy breathing and your heart.

"I wanted more wine" you pout, not even knowing why you said it.

He smiles devilishly. "I'll give you something better than that"

How does it happen, you have no idea, but then Pedro gets up with a brash move, chair making a sound that draws attention. He smirks, his auburn reflecting on the candle glowing in the center with a light that's menacing.

"I'm going to the bathroom" an announcement that feels like a threat that runs through the newfound tension; it could be cut with even a butterknife.

You sit there in silence, too stunned to speak. Your phone chimes in what feels like an hour (it's been a few minutes, probably three). You open the notification, a single text from Pedro.

I'm waiting.

So this was his plan all along, huh? Maybe he's gotten bored of sex on a bed and room like normal couples, because ever since that time you sucked his dick in his trailer, Pedro has shown an appetite for public sex. Well, more like just shown but never done. Guess that changes as of tonight.

I'm coming.

Truth is, after the reveal and fight, you hadn't had sex since that time before the London premiere. Press tour hadn't finished, and the movie was still playing in theathers, but it feels much longer the time you had gone without having his dick rearranging your insides. That changes as of tonight.

You practically leap out of your sit, rushing to the restroom, which is too fancy for your liking. You're unsure how to proceed, and it should be because you realized how stupid and reckless this is, but it's more because you don't know which door Pedro is behind: men or women.

You knock softly on the ladies room first. "I'm here" you speak, voice small.

After a few seconds, a muffled voice from behind replies: "Me too"

You giggle as he pulls you inside, mouth devouring yours in a hot kiss.

"The lock!" you squeal, yet Pedro is busy buring his face between your breasts, pulling the dress down until he's nipping at the skin before licking the spot with his tongue. Your back is pressed against the tiled white wall, cold meeting your now heating skin.

"Mmm, missed this" he mumbles in a drunken state. "Needed my girls so bad"

His words elicit a moan out of you, a way to comunicate that your body too had been aching for this.

"Please, Pedro-" you whimper, trying to get rid of the pretty dress. He doesn't say it, but his movements command for power, big hands dragging your dress down until the black cloth falls to the floor in a sound filled with grace, it feels merciful.

"Black panties? But I thought I was a man with a plan" he groans, calloused digits ghosting over the wet patch in the middle. He smells your arousal off his fingers, and this is so nasty but you're so into it.

"Two can play" is all you answer, eager fingers unbuckling his belt as you unbutton the formal pants and pull them down to his knees, so with his underwear.

"Sure thing" he chuckles darkly. "Just look at you, baby. So loud, but you gotta be quiet. ¿Quieres que alguien entre y te vea así? Fucking slut, begging for my cock" (do you want someone to come in and see you like this?)

He's always been sweet-talking you through sex, and you know he doesn't mean it aside from being lewd words, but you also didn't know you could be aroused by it. Change is welcome, to say the least.

His hard dick is immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs, like he's got no time to loose, kissing you roughly like he hasn't eat and your mouth is his meal.

"Twenty minutes" he grumbles, groaning.

"Or thirty" you add, whining when his cock brushes dangerously close to your dripping folds.

"Can't believe you're this wet already" he chuckles, but it sounds more like a breathy sigh, lost in the inside of your mouth.

"I've been wet since before we left the house and you kissed me"

"And I kissed you" he adds. "No sé ni por qué putas te traje si sólo quería quedarme en casa y comerte" (i don't know why the fuck i took you out if all i wanted was to stay at home and eat you out)

You moan at his dirty mouth, clicking your tongue as a way to say so.

"You dirty old man-" it dies in your throat when he glides inside your folds with ease, a finger slipping in, then two, as he curls them. Your head rolls back, landing against the door with a hollow thud.

"Dirty? But you enjoy this, don't you?" his fingers buried up your hilt. Your eyelids flutter, whimpering drowned by your lips, bitten so deep you think you start to taste blood. "Bad news, mami. You're as dirty as me"

You choke in your words. "No-"

"No what?" Pedro mocks, sliding his digits out of you and shoving them inside his mouth, sucking on them while looking at you. You whine at the display and loss of them, knowing he's tauting you for fun. "Don't tell me you don't want someone to come in here and see you acting like a dirty slut? To see you almost coming here and now with just two of my fingers"

"Fine. What if I want to, huh? Just give me your damn cock already and quit teasing"

Words were lewd, but Pedro smiles with adoration.

"That's my girl"

His length springing free to slap against his now smooth stomach, your mouth drooling.

"Sit"

He glares back, "in the toilet?"

"Well, do you happen to see a couch or bed?" you quip. "That's right: you were the one who chose the bathroom, desperate old man. So needy, aren't you?"

You see your husband turning around, ashamed, and you laugh. "I didn't think it through" and you avoid to add a that's quite obvious snarky type of reply.

"Want me as much as I do?" Pedro doesn't protest anymore, grunting some spanish curses before sitting on the cold surface. "Good. Then comply"

You swing a leg over his lap, not afraid if the thing breaks, dragging your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, biting at your lower lip to hide a growl that seems to erupt from deep within his chest.

"Gonna ride you, baby. Is that okay?" you take the lead, and Pedro gets frustrated that you're taking up a plan that was originally his. Despite such, he just finds himself nodding wordlessly like a fool.

You line up, desperate to have him inside of you. But you go slowly down, taking his size, maybe because you're drunk or because you'd never fucked in a bathroom before. Because, really, how will you even try to explain your PR team a broken bathroom?

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push. His strong arm cages your waist, as he moans in your ear, bodies going up and down in sync. His slides are smooth across his length, helping you find your pace.

"Fuck" you whimper, legs starting to shake. "I think I-"

"I know" he interrupts you, a quick kiss to your earlobe. "It's okay; I've got you, linda"

He thrusts upwards, toilet creaking as Pedro keeps you in place.

You bury your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans, skin slapping against skin loudly, his movements becoming faster. The pressure keeps on adding, until the tightness on your walls is too much, and you're collapsing over his chest, folds spasming as he empties his load inside of you, seed deep in your walls, dripping down your legs.

"Oh, shit" you gasp, "Pedro!"

"Perdón!" he shouts, then covers his mouth. "Mierda, no quise ser tan ruidoso. Ay, carajo. Didn't want to spill all over you-" (sorry! didn't mean to be so loud. oh, fuck)

"There's a sink" you start, "and toilet paper. We'll manage"

"Right" he looks at his watch, "we got about ten minutes"

You smile, cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck. "If the chef took the whole thirty"

"There's only one way to find out" he gasps for air. "Pero, ¿no estás llena? Still up for dessert?" his big hand finds it's way to your tummy, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. It lingers, and when you look into his eyes, he averts his gaze, ashamed of whatever he thought. (but, aren't you full?)

"After this, I need some sugar to make it home" your eyelids drop. "I'm starving"

He presses a loud kiss to your head, "that's my girl"

"Yours" you pull back to rest your forehead against his. "Just yours"

He jolts forward, capturing your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it.

"Good. Now, I'll give my good girl what she deserves" he takes some toilet paper to clean his spilling load out of you, kisses running from your face to neck. Then, gently so, lets you dress in again, exiting the bathroom first to give you some cleaning up space. When you come back to your table, the Soufflé is there.

"Eat" he commands, voice thick and rough. You smirk, giving it a bite as you look into his eyes: hair disheveled, puffy lips and droopy eyes. The bite mark seems to shine, or maybe you need to lay down for a while. "Y no mires atrás, ¿sí? We got ourselves a crowd" (don't look back, yeah?)

That night, you upload a story with a picture of the dessert with a caption that reads: best meal I've ever had. The context is lost until news of your bathroom affairs hit headlines next morning, but you don't notice: your phone happens to be dead, and you're too busy getting railed in what could count as round two to charge it.

pompeiianbollockr: hello just woke up and saw the pictures WTF TMZ??? did they really do #that 😭 bring back public shaming unhing3dprincess: i bet my grandma they fucked in that fancy ass restroom ㅤㅤmostannoyingbillioner: unhing3dprincess QUEEN U ARE BACK 😭 BETTING UR GRANDMA AGAIN? OH IKTR WE WERE LOOSING THE ANCIENT TEXTS poppysplayground: ohhhhh they're so nasty (do u want a third) ㅤㅤann-gell: poppysplayground fr like INVITEN

The interview for Entertainment Weekly's behind the cover for Gladiator II was supposed to just include Paul and Pedro, but taking advantage of the free publicity and buzz your announcement made, they added you. Especially after the news about your restroom affair had hit, courtesy of TMZ; the rumor wasn't taken into account in the beginning, but now added gasoline to the gossip fire. Just what the movie needed: free promo.

You're sat in the middle of the two men, dressed in white as well, to match their attires with a flowy dress that loosely resembles that of Rome's. Then, Paul begins to speak.

"I saw the film for the first time when I was about 13 with my dad" he talks about the original movie.

"I saw it in the movie theater when it came out" you imagine a young Pedro lined up to see Russell Crowe's magnetic performance and let out a small smile. "I saw it twice, because of how emotional the movie was. Obviously it's incredibly visceral, and epic and the kind of movie you rarely get to see made, uh, these days"

You look at him, elbow resting on the arm chair as your body is all turned to his side. Truth is, you love listening to him, especially when he seems so invested, love for the subject rooted in each word.

Pedrito, you'd affectionally call. Ésto es una conversación, no un monólogo. And he'd blush embarrased, only for you to laugh it off, saying you would turn mute if that meant for him to continue speaking. (this is a conversation, not a monologue)

"It had an impact emotionally. I remember that, I guess, sadistically I was drawn to a second time go back again because, weirdly, it was very comforting. I remember it perfectly came out in year 2000. Right?" he asks, and Paul and you agree with a yeah. "I can remember what theater I was in and everything-"

"What theater was it?" Paul interrupts his passionate talking.

Pedro stops, "It, uh-" he rambles, before you all laugh.

"What about you, y/n? Were you even born?" Paul jokes, making you roll your eyes at his antics and deliberate desire to keep nagging you like some older annoying brother.

"I was like, born a year after you, Paul. But I didn't watch the movie until I was fifteen" you feel the gaze of both men fall upon you. "The first Ridley Scott movie I watched was Thelma and Louise, as you all know. Then my dad insisted I should watch it, and finally, at fifteen, when I had given up on my dreams to go on one last epic trip to the Grand Canyon, he played it. My eyes, they were, like, glued to the screen. I couldn't stop thinking about it for a while" you leave a small lingering touch on Pedro's arm, "just like he said: epic and emotional. Also, I had a huge fat crush in Joaquin Phoenix that lasted until I was twenty"

"That was like, seven years ago!" Pedro yells, making Paul snorts. "I feel deceived"

"Qué dramático. We're both married, you big baby!" you laugh, then make a joke before the next conversation starts: "You wouldn't think he plays an epic Roman General, would you?" (how dramatic)

They film some shots of you and the boys before moving to the next talk.

"I was doing a play in London at the time. I'd met with Doug and Lucy who are the producers of the film in LA, and then a zoom was set up and I spoke to Ridley for about 5 minutes about what Gladiator was going to be about. And then we spoke for the next 25 minutes about like, gaic football and dogs, and then I thought we'd do like camera tests and- but no, he just-" he shrugs. "I found out about two weeks later"

Now it's Pedro's turn.

"I knew that the project existed. I knew that Paul was doing it. I think it started with an actual like meeting with Ridley to go and sit down with him and I, whether or not the movie was going to happen for me or not, I was like I'm going to go meet Ridley Scott" he jokes, making you both chuckle. "It wasn't even about getting the job, it was like I'm going to go and sit down maybe five minutes, ten, twenty, as many minutes as I can"

"It was in LA" you speak up, "in his offices"

"Yeah, and thankfully he was willing to talk about all the things I wanted to know about, in terms of other movies, and that's what it really turned into"

"He's a wonderful Storyteller" Mescal compliments. "You could sit down with Ridley for-"

Pedro makes a joke, speaking over him. "Give me another one, give me another one-"

You still kind of hate the guy after his supposed comments on your husband's weight, but won't talk bad about a man who gave you work and your biggest role to the date yet, so you explain how it happened to you.

"I wasn't even planned to appear on the movie. As a matter of fact, my character was squeezed in last minute. Ridley is, just as they said, indeed, a storyteller" you smile. "The truth is, I worked with Cuba, his granddaughter, on a proyect together, a photography one. I was in London at the time, auditioning for a movie, when we met"

"London?" Paul asks.

"Yes" you laugh, ashamed. "I traveled to London with some of my savings, because you know what they say about not doing and then regretting. But I do regret it; I cried for my money to be back!"

"You didn't get the part" Pedro adds, barely containing a snicker.

"I didn't" you sigh, "Cuba saw me sitting alone on a café, eyes red with tears of failure and talked me into capturing such vulnerable moment. She didn't know me but made my day better, and she took some of the most beautiful pictures I've seen of myself. So, in a way, I won. I mean, she's the reason I got the role: my name came up on a phone call with Scott, as I had already made a name for myself, and showed him the pictures. He got in contact with my agent and I got the role after auditioning. Call that friendship nepotism"

"Didn't Pedro tell you about it? I find it funny that he was in the movie and didn't get you in" Paul comments, curiously.

"We were supposed to remain a secret, and the sudden connection when we had barely interacted according to the public, would've been weird. So no, Pedro rubbed his role on my face and then I came home with the new script as he received his. We both won our roles separately, and until we got it both, we realized just what it would mean"

"But now we're here" Pedro speaks fondly, taking your hand. "Rome conquers it all"

You can only hold his and stare back lovingly.

"Oh" the Irish man feigns disgust, "don't get all lovey dovey on me!"

The topic changes again, as Paul speaks.

"We meet early in the film, and this is again kind of Ridley's genius. He shoots it in a way that it feels plausible, but in like- the real action of that there's no way-"

They start talking ovwe each other excitedly about the process of filmaking, Pedro listing all the settings were the epic action takes place.

"We lock eyes" Pedro jests, "we lock eyes"

"All right" Paul plays along. "Three, two, one"

"i'm right here" you say, pushing your body to the front. "You got me third wheeling in my own marriage"

Paul laughs, breaking contact.

"Time for you to get a taste of your own medicine. You've made the rest of this press tour unbearable!" he protests, but his tone is devoid of complain.

"Marcus Acacius represents like-" Mescal then speaks about your husband's character, "he's a Roman general"

"No, he is the general of Rome" you correct, smirking.

"Be careful, princess. Don't let the emperor see you all over his General" the blue-eyed man next to you mocks, and you roll your eyes again.

"Will you ever let me live?"

Paul then talks about his character. "I'm like a lieutenant in the numidian Army. I kind of see Acacius as this, he- he represents everything that I hate about, uh, the Roman Empire"

"Well, the Roman Empire is expanding and expanding" Pedro takes the word, "and invading Numidia just to gain more and more power, and we realize that there really is kind of no ceiling to the lust of that power"

"And that's to do with the Emperors, right? Like, played by Joe and Fred who are wonderful" Paul adds, complimenting both actors in the process. "And let's not forget our Empress too"

You make a face at that, feeling in the need to defend your character.

"Empress Alba is tragedy. I think she embodies well the feelings of helpnessless all women felt during that time. She's an object, another shiny possesion subjected to her husband's amusement, so she drowns in all pleasure available to forget her existence. Lucius hates her because he sees all the filth of Rome in her, like, this whole debauchery and squandering while the people beg for scraps. But it's a pattern seen across history, isn't it?" you pause. "I think it's interesting to compare her to Lucilla, because she's loved by the people, seen as human- despite being noble. It's sad because it's until too late that Lucius realizes she's a victim of the system he hates"

Pedro smiles at your little intervention, loving the way you explain a character you'd play so graciously. One of your favorite movies is Marie Antoinette, by Sofia Coppola, so probably it felt personal to you in some level. God, hadn't you made him watch it at least ten times?

"It unravels through the film that I've kind of miscalculated who I think Acacius is, just as with Alba" Paul comments.

"His character misunderstands my character just like Paul misunderstands us" Pedro quips, making both of you laugh.

"Then it kind of culminates in a big fight that we have in the-"

"Doesn't it always?" you add. "Wouldn't be an epic without it"

"Do you want to talk about it?" Paul dares, jokingly.

"No we're not talking about it" he cuts him off.

"Who's the better fighter'" Paul asks after some silence. Pedro dares him with a go on.

"I would say I'm better the better share. What you think?"

"I would say Lucius is the better fighter"

"Lucius is the better fighter" Pedro repeats slowly, incredulous. "Do you want us to fight? Lucius is a better fighter than the general of Rome, who survived decades and conquered" Paul tries to defend himself but Pedro doesn't let him. "I fight four men before I get you, and I call it off!"

"Yeah, but I think if you hadn't called it off -"

"You don't think I would have do some sort of mature aged learning-"

They end up discussing a bit more until you clear your throat.

"Why don't you ask for a third party to break your tie?" and you point towards yourself, mouthing a cute me with your painted pink lips.

"No!" Paul immediatly opposes, "It would be biased, silence her!"

"Have you seen Acacius' arms?" you gauge Pedro's arms, biceps flexing under the white attire. "It definitely isn't biased, at all"

The conversation carries on after some more shots. In some, you pose seriously, but in between such, you laugh along with them, Pedro even hugging you and Paul from behind in one of both. No kisses yet, but you know fans will be rabid just with the lingering touches and flirty undertones in your interactions.

"We began together in Morocco, and I think seeing that set and the scale of the production so quickly, desensitized me to the scale of the of what- Malta was in the Coliseum, and Ridley moves at such a pace, which I actually think really helped me because you don't have time to kind of sit there and and kind of bask in the wonder of it" Paul talks. "Because you're shooting three or four scenes, build your expectations of how to meet the size of, it or anything 'cuz 'cause it's impossible" Paul looks at Pedro and asks: "and I think Ridley; did I tell you what Ridley said first day of shooting to me? He came out to the tent while they were dressing the set, thousands of extras, everything fire, camels and he comes in, and he's- he's smoking a cigar, and we're all stood around and he's like Are you nervous? and we're all like No and he slaps me on the back and goes Your nerves are no good to me, before we filmed anything. But I think it was like- it's funny, but it's this idea that this is your playground, and you have to kind of step into it and own it. So, I-I don't actually really remember my first walking into the Coliseum, 'cause I feel like I lived in the Coliseum for about three or four weeks"

"You lived in the Coliseum of your mind" Pedro quips, making Paul laugh.

"I do remember, you know, when I first walked into the Coliseum, you know. It- it gave me chills. Like, literally chills. Look! I still get the goosebumps" you point your arm. "Honestly, all of it felt just too real, and I couldn't help but for a moment, think I actually was in Rome- that I belonged to nobility"

Pedro takes your hand and kisses it gently. "That's because you do, princesa"

"One of the things that I have never experienced on a movie before, is that there was so little left to the imagination" Pedro expresses. "Me and the rest of the ensemble are together in the emperor's box, and there's this enormous battle that's taking place, and Ridley composed all of the off camera for us in the emperor's box, with Paul leaping from one ship to another taking two men down what would you call that?"

"A cloth line flying" Paul answers.

"Clothes line?" you try.

"A flying- a flying clothes line" Pedro decides, carrying on "just so that we could know what we were looking at. I couldn't f*****g believe it"

"That's true" you remark. "The result goes so hard- I mean, it looks amazing" you sheepily laugh. "The action, the violence, the epic... it all shines through. It just- it makes sense"

The conversation shifts again.

"The legacy of the first film is so profound, and has such a strong place in so many people's, like, hearts and minds, it's inescapable, but I was looking at it- and I was like" Paul shares. "The screenplay does a lot of that work for you in terms of like, the rubbing the dirt between the hands. the kind of DNA and the genetics that Lucius inherits. I remember reading the script and there's like, a moment in the script where it's Lucius puts on the breastplate and it's written like Lucius now becomes Maximus"

"But Lucius, despite being a son, is also a man" you counter. "He isn't Maximus"

Paul agrees.

"I kind of tried to park that to one side, because ultimately, where Lucius is coming from at the start of the film, he has a very different journey than Maximus does, and I was hoping that whatever DNA- and even just the physical gestures, was going to be one part of- a kind of small part of the performance" he explains. "What I tried to do is figure out exactly who Lucius was and where those differences lay between Lucius and Maximus"

"One of the things that I loved most about my character is that he's introduced in the beginning of the movie, in this very epic battle sequence, that I think in its own way homages the first film" Pedro shares. "But even better, because we follow him back to Rome and discover his direct connection to one of the only characters that is living and with us from the first movie, and I loved being a a kind of thread, an invitation, into what we know from the first movie by being Connie Nielsen's man"

Paul looks at you silently, before poking your side: "Someone is real quiet with that comment"

You narrow your eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about"

"I am Connie Nielsen's man as Marcus Acacius, but as Pedro Pascal, I'm all y/n's"

Your face goes red at how easily you are to be understood, your husband answering just what you wanted to listen.

"Ha! Look at your face, I was right!" Paul ridiculises you.

But after such an embarrasing moment, he shifts the conversation again.

"There's a moment where Pedro has this, uh- it's so clever from a- from an acting standpoint, but also in the in the script like, you see this brutalizing Force come into Numidia, and there's this section where there's the burning of the bodies, and that it's one of my favorite shots in the film" Paul muses. "It's this closeup on Pedro, when he says Vae Victis to the conquered, and you feel like it's a really difficult thing to communicate in one line, that you see: Oh, this General is, kind of wearing this responsibility with great difficulty and shame"

"I wasn't doing that at all" your husband deadpans. You stiffle a giggle.

"You were very good in it" Paul argues back with a smile.

"That wasn't what I was playing" he insists, serious but Paul asks What were you playing? and you all laugh.

"If I had a favorite scene, I'd say it'd be naval fight" you mention. "The colliseum is filled with water, and it's this- it feels like a thing that has never been done before, and with the people cheering and the buzz, and the announcement and echo of the drumming, it's as if you were there, in the crowd. The tension is palpable, the violence is thrown at your face but the scariest one, is the one that lies underneath. Uh, Lucius character tries to attack the General while we, you know, the royals and especial guests, are sitting at our box, and he gets so close, it serves, I think the bottom climbing the ladder to bite the ankles of the top. Obviously, that before we know who Lucius actually is, but I think it's kind of cool"

The interview is ending, the last of your twelve-minute conversation being filmed now.

"I am really excited for everyone to see Paul" Pedro beams, making the younger one laugh. "I'm sorry but it has to be said. You are sensational in the movie" then adds, "and pretty easy on the eyes"

"Everyone in this movie is easy in the eyes" you quip, looking at your side. Pedro coughs a bit before speaking again, even if a faint blush is coating his cheeks.

"-And he worked so hard, and I got to see that happen like, in front of me, and on the day and just lead with Ridley, this enormous crew and this enormous cast... To get to see that, on the big screen, is really exciting and I think people are going to- they're going to love it"

"That's very kind" you exclaim softly with a smile, then add. "I'm sure of it, especially if you were a fan of the first. Both are very interwined, although each film is its own thing" you comment.

"For a lot of us, the actors, we haven't worked on a film on that scale" you violently shake your head "and I think, there's a little bit of trauma bonding that went on with, kind of having to- kind of feel like, total impostor syndrome within it all. But to see your friends operate at that level on a film of that scale, doing like incredible work. I think, across the board, I haven't seen a film on this scale for a long long time rhat's rooted it has the scale and the performances, and I personally think it's one of Ridley's greatest pieces of work"

senhoritamayblog: y/n was SO REAL holding pedro's arm and talking abt how he'd beat paul bc he's beefy ME WHEN moltisantiii: you know what i think ridley's greatest piece of work is? giving us this trio youlooklike-clarabow: y/n is truly a princess 🥹 i don't know if i want to be y/n to be with pedro or pedro to be with y/n ㅤㅤann-gell: youlooklike-clarabow well, she's the people's princess after all!

You haven't even left the room when Pedro is all over you, kissing your neck on that sweet spot of yours that elates a little breathy whine. Doesn't he know you well?

"What are you doing?" you manage to squeak out as his needy big hands grope your body, flesh soft under the flowy white dress. He grunts when he catches your panties, embarrasingly wet already at just a few sloppy kisses and eager touches.

"What do you think?" he whispers against your ear as you both try to walk away from where voices can be heard, and then Pedro is guiding you to a room, closing the door behind him. If he was able to walk to the room while kissing you, he must've seen it in a passing. Had your husband plan this all along? Greedy needy old man.

"What I think, baby, is you're forgetting something" you push him off, giggling. He makes a little pout, making it hard to keep your ground. "Now that everyone knows we're married and we suddenly both go misteriously missing at the same time, they'll just put two and two together. I mean, does it really take a smart person to figure it out?"

Pedro doesn't back down, still caging your frame against the locked door.

"So?" his annoyed and tense voice only makes you laugh more. That turned on was he? Pedro seems annoyed at your fit of laughter, his pants tight.

"What do you mean so? We almost got caught by Paul last time!" you chuckle amused. "And, are you seriously going to pretend TMZ didn't air our bussiness just about last week?"

"Well, maybe you should've thought about it before" he goes back at the task of attacking your mouth, words spewing in between hungry kisses. You mouth a little taunting innocent looking Before what? and then Pedro is talking while his gaze is glued to yours, tightening his arms around you, and the answer is just about that. "You should've thought about it before getting all flirty with me, grabbing my arm in front of the camera like the naughty girl you are. So fucking needy you can't hide it for a few hours, can't even go through an interview without touching me, looking at me, being possesive at a fictional marriage even" your face burns hot with embarrasment at that. Oh, was he being nasty on purpose? Why bring that up? "Haven't I taught you manners?"

It's hard to force yourself to hold his gaze while standing still. Taunting. Defiant.

"José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal" you chastise, "do you want people to know we are raw dogging in the dressing room? That's the manners you so badly talk about"

His face goes red, his demostrations stopping for a bit as he studies your now serious face.

"Wait, do you want to raw dog in the dressing room?" he gasps at the boldness in your words, which, to be fair, is kind of exaggerated, as you both have said worst stuff before. "That's not what I had in mind"

"That's not?" you arch an eyebrow. "Oh, no. Absolutely not. You can't just kiss my neck greedily and touch my body eagerly like a goddamn starved horny idiot, and then expect me to not act up on it, you old man"

There's silence before he speaks up again. "Y/n, you talked about manners"

You take a deep breath in, making sure the door is actually locked.

"Well, fuck them manners"

You capture his lips on a hungry kiss, same kind of force you had made fun of him, just minutes ago. He's pushing his tongue inside of you, as his hands move up to your shoulders and back down to your waist. You rub yourself against him, looking for some kind of friction, and his big calloused hands pulls your waist closer in an attempt to do the same.

"Manners maketh man" he's reciting, and such stupid proverb and line from one of his old works shouldn't turn you this much. Pedro lifts up the dress until your body is devoid of the cotton, murmuring about how unfair it was for you to taunt him with translucent cloth, tender flesh hiding under the white. So hard to focus on interviews, mami, when you're close to me or something like that, as you're too lost in the fire. No bra? Fuck, baby. Do you want to kill me?

"Sofa" you command, eyes darting to the furniture so you can show him where. "Now"

You take off your panties in a go, revealing the slick that's just a few seconds from running down your legs.

"I see, my legs won't be the only thing drooling" you mock his agape mouth. He takes off the blazer with shaking hands, sitting as you get on top of him. Pedro kisses his way down your neck, sucking on the skin. How will you get out of here without comfirming suspicions? Surely, there must be something inside here that could be of help.

"Well, I've wanted to do this for a while" he mumbles against the now red patches of before honey-ed skin. Again? you think.

"Have me or fuck again in public?" you ask out loud, and even if you're laughing, there's a layer of fondness in your voice. "I'm starting to wonder if you have an exhibition kink, papi"

He breathes a little no before biting right above your collarbones, his tongue then releaving the pain with a wet slick move over the flesh as you let out a whine.

"Busy schedule, mami. A husband's gotta find a way to make time for his pretty wife, even if it means fucking her in the goddamn dressing room" he says into your ear. Pedro had done more interviews than you, and between that and filming for his other projects, he's right. "So what if they find out? Need them to know who you belong to. I'm just a devoted husband, will you punish me for that?"

You caress his face, pristine hair now disheveled, the gel succumbing to the heat and sweat trapped in the room.

"Look at you, naughty boy. El burro hablando de orejas" you laugh, "but of course I won't. Need you too so bad" (look who's talking)

His finger wanders down to your pussy, big hand roaming around the area. His middle and ring finger run over it, the golden band starting to shine with your arousal. Fuck, that just made you wetter.

"Shit, baby. You're so eager... wasn't lying when you talked before"

"Needed you since you kissed me today, when you woke up" your teeth grit at his lingering digits. "Your dick rubbed against my bare thigh, fucking hard"

Truth is, you're always horny; being married to Pedro Pascal does that to you. But mornings? Waking up to that handsome face and girthy dick? You really be testing yourself sometimes.

"Jesus, mami" he whistles. "So fucking dirty, thinking about me all the interview because my morning wood grazed your skin, you dirty naughty girl"

Pedro finally slides his fingers inside of you, making you squirm under his gaze as your back archs. "So fucking beautiful, can't believe you're all mine" he moans and you squeeze his shoulders, nails digging and bruising his skin under the shirt that sticks to his skin, body heating up like a furnace.

"Please, Pedro" you plead, lip biting your under to supress a whimper. "Please curl your fingers, need to have you- feel you inside. Fuck-"

Your words cut off as he moves his fingers with learned ease, his thumb rubbing your clit as a treat.

"Mmm" you murmur with pleasure, back arched again, your tits too dangerously close to his face. Without much thought, he licks your nipple and then devours the whole breast with his mouth. All while looking at you, this absolute horndog. Your nails dig in deeper as you pronounce his name in a shaky exhale. Wanting more. Begging for more.

"Mmm? That's right" his palm on your waist squeezes lightly, more pressure on his grip. "Can't speak 'cause I'm making you feel so good, huh?"

You don't answer, instead throwing your head back, nails digging deep to the point he winces, making a face by the pain. You mouth an apology, but then he licks your nipple again, and teeth move to your nibble your earlobe―you're not sorry anymore.

"S-stop" you choke out, body shivering.

"What? Can't take what you asked for? No muerdas más de lo que puedes masticar, niña mala. Bad girl" (don't bite off more than you can chew, bad girl)

His lewd words elicit another moan out of you.

"I-I can. In fact, I want- no, need more. I don't want to cum on your fingers" you whisper in his ear, hot breath probably why he shivers. "Pull down your pants, pretty boy, because I want to cum on your dick"

"Fuck, mami. What a dirty mouth" he moans.

Eager hands try to lower his pants as your fiddle with the same feel, the borrowed wardrobe struggling to get off in the current position. His underwear goes next, and you squirm as he aligns his tip with your dripping entrance.

You moan and he grunts, as his dick enters your tight folds, sounds clashing onto each other as so do your bodies, fitting perfectly. His hands travel from your waist to ass, his head against the back of the sofa, your hands that were before on his shoulders now on his chest.

"Such a pretty view you're giving me, wifey" he tries to laugh, but the sound comes out strained along each powerful stride of his cock that buries inside of you, each bouncing harder, his hands pathethically running over your ass, back, hips, and legs, as his eyes devour the way your tits jiggle with each thrust, tongue burning with desire to suck on the skin again. "So beautiful, and all mine. Only mine. Mía"

His words drip with devotion and wordship; all the love in the world. Pedro calls you beautiful, goddess, and a string of spanish words crossed with adoration. Mami. Linda. Princesa. Diosa. Hermosa. It has your orgasm looming over, head spinning and pussy stretched, walls tightening.

"I'm close" you whisper, riding him with soft-paced movements as his turn sloppy.

You see stars, walls almost kicking his dick out as you coat it in your slick, arousal dripping down until it's coated his balls and smeared the white attire. Fuck. Now Pedro's moving his waist, hunting for his own orgasm.

"Me too" he breathes out, "stay with me"

His hands travel sloppily to your waist, lazily holding you still with his calloused digits.

"Quick, baby" you breath out, "I'm sensitive"

"I'm almost there. Just hold on a little longer" then a whine before shakily pleading. "Please, please, just wait for me"

You move your hips slowly, aroused by his needy pleads, robbing a moan out of him. "Cute" you praise, making his cheeks redden with sweat and blush.

He is cute: hair messed up, mouth red and puffy, and brown puppy eyes.

"I love you so much" Pedro let's out, and it sounds like a confession, despite being married for so long.

"I know, baby, I know" you reach for his face, removing some sweat beads from his forehead, and he leans on the touch, closing his eyes as another gutural growl erupts from his chest. "I love you too"

You keep on riding until you feel his dick twitch inside of your walls.

"We need to stop doing this" you pant out.

"Too late for that, bonita. At least no one found out this time" Pedro laughs. "But you like the talk, don't you? Gonna give 'em something to talk about" he pants, "will fill you up so good you won't be able to walk without my seed spilling from you" sweat beads from your face fall onto his. He obscenely licks the salty drops. "Te voy a dar tantos hijos, que no cabrán en la casa. That way they will know you're mine" (will give you so many kids, they won't fit in the house)

You moan loufly, folds now coated on thick ropes of hot cum, as his movements come to a stop, slowing down until all that can be heard is your uneven breaths trying to recover.

And on cue, there's a knock at the door. Shit. You both remain silent, as if it would stop, but the knocking turns persistent.

"Pedro, I know you're in there"

It's Paul freaking Mescal, again. You might just have to invite him next time if he keeps showing up like that.

"Should I go?" Pedro whispers, and you shrug, stating it would be weirder to pretend he wasn't if Paul knew he was. "How do I look?"

You eye him up and down, eye glistening with dissaproval, red cheeks giving away your thoughts as if the furrowed eyebrows and ashamed gaze didn't already.

"We are fucked"

"No" he giggles, "we just fucked"

"That's not funny!" you roll your eyes, playfully smacking his chest. "Please, look into the mirror and try to fix yourself a bit. If not, we're doomed to be remembered as a horny couple. Oh, we were going so well! Fans will make fun of us and the press will call us horndogs" you lament, exaggerating your voice.

"Oh, shush. We wanted to be able to be in public. This is what it feels like"

You blush. "Maybe we can reduce the public aspect a bit..."

Pedro snorts before doing a quick fix to his appearance, walking to the door where Mescal patiently waits behind. Oh, of course; that little fucker. After the TMZ news dropped, he connected the dots and know that whatever happened in that trailer when Pedro told him to fuck off, wasn't holy at all. Now, he's probably laughing or scheming.

"Paul!" Pedro opens the door. "W-what's up?"

The younger man does a quick scan of his friend, barely able to hide a laugh.

"Looking radiant, my friend" he answers with a shit-eating grin. "They need to do some re-shootings. Have you happen to seen y/n? She just keeps dissappearing when you- oh, when you do!" he mocks. "Well, if you ever happen to find y/n, tell her you both need to get a good fix unless y'all want to show up on TMZ again. I'm pretty sure you can find something in this dressing room to cover those marks, yeah?"

He finally breaks down laughing in front of Pedro's shocked face.

"Ah, you guys are the absolute worst" he folds in a fit of laughter, "so fucking horny you end up fucking in bathrooms and dressing rooms!"

Your voice can be heard from inside as you growl, face red with fury and shame:

"Hijo de puta" (son of a bitch!), "don't make me bring Daisy Edgar-Jones into this!"

l-u-n-a-m: they're just milking their relationship atp for promo but i'm not complaining need more pictures of the photoshoot NOW vnightx: istg if they don't stop flirting in front of my single ass face. i need a gun at0michips: have i gone insane or does pedro have love bites ㅤㅤmybritishstyle: MI HIJO DOES NOT HAVE LOVE BITES. HE JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @trashcora / *i'm never gonna call twitter as X. it's still twitter, and will always be. fuck that ugly bigot filthy billionaire hoe called elon-trump-cocksucker-musk.

[haru-chi]

If you have a friend that treasure and treat your mom as if she's her own mother then treasure them 🩵

My mom asked me to check if my friend have any new games she can borrow to play but my friend gavs what she had to her other friend .. but then she asked what game my mom wanted since she might go and buy it for her if she can ... I said the resident evil 4 remake since mom was dying to get it, it's her best video game ever and I was planning to buy it and gifted to her myself but was too poor to do it 💔

And my friend ended up buying it saying "I was gonna buy it for myself anyway so don't worry your mom can play it first since I'm busy to even play" so that my mom or me don't feel any guilt that she ended up buying it for mom 💕

So right now my mom is too happy and excited while playing it 😂🩵

[mariampoetry]

This was one of his last posts before a missile tore him, his wife and daughter to pieces😢

I Don't want to End up in a Bag

By: Ibrahim Algoula

I don't want to end up in a bag!!

I give up everything.. except my death!

I want a complete shroud, 192 centimeters long.

I will not give up my body, I want it whole. I want my arms, my feet, my heart, my head, my twenty toes and fingers, and my eyes too.

I want to return to the womb of the earth, as I was created from it, the same earth here in this land

I do not mind if I am buried in a mass grave... But I want my name on a headstone, my age as well, and that I am from here, from this slaughtered homeland

I would like, with bitter hope, that my grave be in a real cemetery, not a street, no sidewalk, nothing else

Let it be our last wish and our right

farewell!

#لا أريدُ أن أنتهي في كيس !!

أتنازلُ عن كل شيء ..عدا موتي!

أريدُ كفنًا كاملًا ،،طوله192 سنتمترات ..لا أتنازلُ عن جثّتي،بل أريدها كاملة،،

أريدُ ذراعيّ ،وقدميّ وقلبي ورأسي ،وأصابعي العشرين ،وعينيّ أيضًا..

أريدُ أن أعود لِرحمِ الأرض ،كما خلقتُ منها ..نفس الأرض هنا في هذه البلد ..لا أمانعُ إن دفِنتُ في قبرٍ جماعيّ ،،

لكني أريد اسمي على الشاهد ،عمري كذلك ،وأني من هنا ،من هذا الوطن الذ...بيح ..

وأودُّ برجاءٍ حدّ المرارِ ،أن يكون قبري في مقبرةٍ حقيقية ،لا شارع لا رصيف ،لا شيء آخر ..

كأمنية اخيرة لنا💔وحق لنا .. الوداع 🥺

ID: [ A picture of Ibrahim Algoula riding a bicycle in Shajaeyyah (a town in Gaza) and behind him a fallen wall that is sprayed on it the following:

"Shajaeyyah,

Take off your shoes at its gates, for its soil is made up of the remains of its children"]

[angelesca]

d d d d dddd d DATING ANAXA HEADCANONS 🗣️🗣️🗣️ bc im proper insane, bonkers even (oh blimey she escaped the asylum again)

full art plug here😎

did i draw this and imagine a million scenarios during it? yes. yes idid. this post is the result. btw havent played 3.1 so here are my wrong headcanons (more mischaracterisation? love that) (w/ gnreader as usual!) bc i love my men bratty and smart. WARNING!! i broke my sfw rules for anaxa LMAOOO💔💔mix of sfw + NSFW ahead guys look OUT ITS NOT A DRILL THIS IS HAPPENING AAAAA😭🙏

starting off strong. i ant hold it in anymore ANAXA'S EROGENOUS ZONE IS UNDER HIS EYEPATCH🗣️🗣️🗣️ I HAVE SPOKEN MY TRUTH‼️THIS IS WHAT MADE ME QUESTION MY SFW STATUS I CAN FINALLY RELEASEMY DEMONS

i imagine he lowkey loves it when you have your finger under his eyepatch and. penetrate it. into his cosmos space thingy. and like he breathes really heavy, flushed cheeks, some tears, def some stifled moaning, and will hold your wrist to nudge your finger further in. basically bro is getting off to it. will clean your finger with his tongue after the session, but you have to help him walk around since his legs are deffo jelly after that DO YOU GUYS SEE WHAT IM SEEING PLEEEEASEEE SOMEONE WRITE THIS DONT MAMKE ME DO ITTT😭😭😭😭😭🙏🙏

EDIT: ANAXA HAS A "G-SPOT"/PROSTATE IN HIS SPACE CHEST🗣🗣🗣

WILL TAKE OFF HIS RINGS AND PUT IT ON YOUR FINGERS RAAAAAAAAAAH and he def teases you by sliding it on your ring finger, gauging your reaction as he smirks (that sly sod omggg)

"hmm, this finger looks a little lonely... i could change that."

interlaces his hand with yours to stretch it, like a massage. knows all the pressure points to help de-stress you

uses his wind powers to do fun magic tricks and play with you like imagine he only has to flick his finger and the wind pulls you closer to him HUUUUUUUUUUU SICKCCKKKK. will also blow a calm, soft breeze if you need to relax and take your mind off things.

literally gets a kick off of flustering you (it's his love language) every time you ask him why his response is: "so? don't like it?" mans not embarassed💔

if you have any texting habits, like sending cute stickers or kaomojis, anaxa will copy it bc he thinks its cute and amusing. always replying to your messages, although the same can't be said with the chrysos heirs who nag at him for ignoring theirs

anaxa: where are you? i've been waiting for ages ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴ you: ??? that's my kaomoji??? anaxa: ours now anaxa: (҂` ﾛ ´)︻デ═一 you: ＼(º □ º l|l)/

idk why i feel this so strongly but anaxa just does many smaller kisses, like pecks to the cheek. kinda playful, fleeting but always returning. i also feel like he's a neck kinda guy, always brushing his fingers along it or placing kisses. will secure you in place with a hug just to kiss the nape.

even though you two are together, anaxa will still give you stinky side eyes. loves to hear your gossip for sure, he doesn't say it but he loves chatting shit about others. will be the quietest ever when you have juicy stories.

will flame anyone who has made you upset to bits and pieces. bro's mouth is like a machine gun

likes to tilt your chin, moving it so you face him whenever he wants your attention.

he likes it when you take control, that brat taming typa shiii brooo00 he likes it when you rough him up, always a cheeky grin on his face. prods you as well, like "is that it?", "c'mon, harder my love..."

loves when you give him hickeys, or any markings like scratches. its like staking your claim on him and he fw with that😎

one sure way to get him flustered is straight up telling him "i love you". it forces him to confront his feelings head on and anaxa can't deal with that. will lightly flick your forehead, or anything to stop you from staring at his reddened face.

a/n: so. this is what happens whne im menstruating. how we feeling guys. it was jsut a few very insane headcanons tbh, the rest were fine, bit of an overreaction looool this is tame in comparison to my ao3 works. my god i need my daily cuppa where is it. this reminds me of when i was a wee teenager and experienced akechi from p5 for the first time. changed my trajectory fr. thanks akechi goro u saved ruined me

[carlosainzgf]

Hiiii i love ur writing sm!!!! Can u write a kang dae ho x reader where we had Dated before the games but broke up because of our depts. And we meet again in the games and he was heart broken to see reader there and reader had been ’rude’ (not mean or anything but telling him they dont need his help etc) but after reader had seen how he acted with player 222. They got sad (jealous?) because they thought that they had something going on between those two. But after a near death experience reader Seeks for dae ho’s comfort and he makes sure reader is okay and comforts them. SORRY IT THIS IS CRINGE BUT I HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO GET THIS OFF MY MIND AND I CANT WRITE SHIT💔💔💔😔😔😔

the irony of fate

kang dae ho x reader (fluff)

(the words in a different font are throw backs)

the silence in the room was frightening. the metal beds, lined up in precise rows, offered little solace after the chaos of the first game. you fell onto one of the mattresses, exhausted, your breathing still uneven. the memory of the sharp sound of gunshots tormented you. as you massaged your temples, someone occupied the bunk in front of you. you didn't look up, too focused on calming your nerves, until you heard a familiar laugh, sarcastic and full of that carefree tone you always hated.

"well, this is quite a romantic meeting, don't you think?"

you raised your head. there he was, dae-ho, sitting on the bed with one leg crossed over the other, his long black hair as messy as ever, it was just longer than the last time you saw him. his eyes glittered with a mocking spark, and the crooked smile that you knew so well was there, intact.

“no way,” you murmured.

the last time you saw him, things ended badly, very badly. and now, after years of trying to bury it in your memory, it has appeared here, in this nightmare of a place.

“i can’t keep living like this dae ho!” you yelled. “i tried, i really did, but…i can’t anymore. we’re not good for each other. all we’ve been doing is fight for the last few months!”

“you’re giving up on us?” he sounded hurt.

“im not ‘giving up’ dae ho! i tried. it’s not working.”

and you haven’t seen him ever since.

you didn’t wanna break up but you had to. you were both so deep in depth. you both lived constant fear of being found by the people you owed money to. lots of money. the stress of you two brought both you down. you weren’t happy. all you did was fight. you didn’t spend time with each other due to working many jobs. you didn’t make love due to tiredness. you didn’t care for each other like you always did.

the break up took a toll on him. he wasn’t himself anymore. he fell apart after losing you. and he hated you for it. deep down he knew it wasn’t your fault but he couldn’t help it.

“come with me. i found a group of people to stick to. you’ll be safer.” he was still the old caring dae ho deep down. he will always care for you and you knew it.

“no thank you. i can take care of myself.”

“please stop being arrogant for once!” he said a little bit louder.

“i said no! don’t act like you care about me.” you turned your back to him, signaling for him to leave. he looked at your back for a few seconds but decided to leave. he knew how stubborn you could be.

───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ─── ───୨ৎ───

your eyes somehow looked for dae ho at every game, making sure he was alive. but every time you looked for him, he was with this girl.

she was short, pretty, around the same age as you. she always kept a hand on her stomach. she was pregnant, you figured.

dae ho always kept a hand on her shoulder or her back, supporting her and looking out for her. you couldn’t help but feel jealous.

did they have something between them? were they dating? was that his baby? did they join the game together? questions occupied your brain.

you soon snapped out of when your thoughts were interrupted by the mechanical voice, explaining the game.

mingle.

first round was ten people. a purple haired man pulled you into their group before you could look for another team to join.

the man was reckless. his pupils were dilated, he was weirdly jolly. he was high. but he had saved you. he kept talking about how you were beautiful as a flower and constantly flirted with you even when gunshots were blaring your ears. he didn’t let go of you when you left the room. he kept you by his side during other rounds.

until it was time to get into groups of four. you didn’t even have time to figure out what was happening when he kicked you in the gut and you fell to the ground, harshly. you couldn’t breathe. it was like all the oxygen left your lungs by how hard he kicked you. panic consumed you.

you couldn’t move. couldn’t yell. then your eyes met dae ho’s. he was about to go in to a room, and save himself when he saw you.

he didn’t think. not even for a second. he didn’t hesitate. he just ran.

10, 9, 8

he ran for you. he picked you up from the ground.

7, 6, 5

he was looking through rooms, trying to find where there were two people inside to make a group of four.

4, 3, 2

he was almost sure you both were going to die. but he didn’t mind. he would be gone with you in his arms. for him, to die by your side would’ve been a heavenly way to die.

just when he had accepted his faith someone pulled you both into a room with them. gi hun and young il.

1, 0.

gunshots once again filled your ears. dae ho sat you both to the ground and started asking if you were hurt. panic in his eyes, trying to make sure you were okay.

you didn’t answer. just grabbed his face and placed a longing kiss to his lips. it didn’t feel foreign. it felt like home.

tears ran down your face as you kissed. dae ho pulled away, wiped the tears away and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“don’t ever leave my side again. okay?”

“okay.”

gi hun and young il watched the interaction, confused, as you hugged each other, pulling the other impossibly closer, mumbling loving words, telling one another how much you missed each other and how nothings the same without them.

who knew such a place would bring you back to each other. what an irony of fate.

𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯𓂃𓍯

i loooved this req! please send moree 🫶🫶

-love, a.

[kxsagi]

back again with another idea, don't judge me these men haunt my mind 24/7

bllk boys with a manager gf.

imagine them having a manager in blue lock right? then she yk does what managers do. help with their training, give them water, monitor their plays and even sometimes suggest new playstyle that could improve their game and such.

then, one of their teammates gets injured and yk what that means? gf touches the other member to apply bandage or apply dressing to their wounds. bf gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship to everyone.

that's all, have a great day.

“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐚𝐠”

a/n: thank you, have a great day as well!

blue lock manager! gf can be the same age as them to make things easier! (reader is too smart for this world and got a full-time job early lmao)

another a/n: i’m stuck between writing angst and writing crack headcanons idk (yes i chose a random header image this is my humor 💔)

ft. shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, isagi yoichi

shidou ryusei

you were just doing your job like the incredible and competent manager you were, wrapping a bandage around one of the players’ thighs after a nasty slide tackle. 

and that was the moment you felt it – a murderous aura radiating from somewhere behind you. 

you turned your head slightly… and there he was, standing at the edge of the field with his hands on his hips, watching you with the most “i am one intrusive thought away from prison” expression you’ve ever seen. 

you weren’t sure if he was jealous of the player or the fact that he wasn’t the one getting manhandled by you. 

but oho, shidou made sure everyone knew exactly what was going through his mind. 

“hey. you got a license for that, princess?” he called out, his voice loud enough for the entire field to hear. 

everyone kinda just… stared at him like “bro what???”

then he casually strolled over and plopped down beside you, practically shoving the injured player away with his knee. 

“i’m next. wrap me up, baby,” he grinned, completely ignoring the fact that he had zero injuries. 

“shidou, you’re not hurt,” you deadpanned. 

“my heart is. you’re out here playin’ nurse with other guys,” he smirked dramatically, holding his chest like he was about to faint. 

that was the moment you realized you were doomed. 

“wait… you’re dating him?” one of the players finally asked, pointing at shidou. 

“dating? nah,” shidou snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulders and grinning maniacally, “i’m her full-time problem. she’s just lucky i’m hot.”

itoshi rin

rin was trying so hard to play it cool. 

but the moment he saw you kneeling on the field, gently holding a player’s ankle to wrap it with bandages, he damn near dislocated his own neck from how fast he turned to glare at you. 

he clenched his jaw, muttering under his breath like, “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

if this scene were in anime, his eyes would be glowing red and his entire body would be surrounded by that ominous black aura. 

he didn’t say anything at first, just stared, so hard that the player getting bandaged started getting visibly uncomfortable. 

when you finally finished and stood up, rin suddenly appeared behind you like a final boss. 

“you’re done, right?” he muttered, staring daggers at the poor, confused player. 

you were like, “uh… yeah?”

but before you could even blink, rin grabbed your wrist in front of everyone and dragged you off the field like a caveman escorting his woman back to the cave. 

“rin, what the hell are you –”

“you were touching him.”

“wha – he was injured???”

rin didn’t care. he just turned around and deadass blurted, “you’re my girlfriend. stop touching other guys.”

there was a brief silence. then someone from the bench went: 

“…wait. since WHEN?!” 

rin, realizing he just accidentally revealed your entire relationship, muttered, “shit,” under his breath and immediately walked off.

he avoided eye contact with everyone for the next three hours. 

but you could still see the tips of his ears turning red every time someone smirked at him. 

kaiser michael

it started with a minor ankle sprain from one of his teammates. 

nothing serious, you just crouched down, carefully assessing the injury with your delicate and professional manager hands. 

kaiser, who was initially ignoring the entire scene, suddenly felt his eye twitch when he saw you applying pressure to the player’s calf with your bare hands. 

and that was it. his brain glitched. 

he stormed over without hesitation, yanked your clipboard out of your hand, and slapped it against the injured player’s leg. 

“here. use this.”

you blinked in confusion.

“kaiser, what –”

“don’t you have gloves or something?” he snapped, his eye twitching again. 

you gave him a blank stare. “… for bandaging an ankle?”

“yes. gloves. anything that keeps you from touching him with your bare hands,” he muttered, scowling. 

the injured player blinked up at him like “bro you good???”

and then, because kaiser had no filter, he added, “she doesn’t touch anyone but me.”

the entire field went dead silent.

one of the benched players went, “uh, excuse me?”

but kaiser, completely unbothered, just smirked, leaned down, and kissed your forehead right in front of everyone before turning back to practice. 

“she’s my personal medic. keep your hands off.”

you, sitting there with wide eyes, realized there was no turning back. 

the next day, you were trending online as “kaiser’s girl” and he was so smug about it. 

itoshi sae

sae was already grumpy after a long practice, and the last thing he wanted to see was you touching some random dude’s calf while applying ice. 

you, being the sweet and professional manager you were, were focused on being helpful. 

sae, meanwhile, was staring at you with the most judgmental boyfriend glare of all time. 

and then the player winced and accidentally grabbed your wrist. 

sae was across the field in 0.3 seconds. 

“get your hands off her.”

the entire field turned toward him like 👁️👄👁️

the player immediately let go of you and started stammering, “s-sorry, i didn’t mean to –”

sae didn’t even look at him. he was laser-focused on you. 

“you. come here.”

you blinked in confusion. “huh?”

“now.”

you stood up and walked over to him, only for sae to grab your wrist again and deadass say, “she’s mine.”

the entire team went, “WHAT???”

and then sae, realizing he just exposed your secret relationship, simply muttered,

“oh.”

he quickly turned around and walked off without saying anything else. 

the next practice, everyone was making fun of him. 

shidou: “sooo… when’s the wedding, lover boy?”

rin: “pathetic.”

sae: “i hate all of you.”

nagi seishiro

nagi was napping on the bench until he heard your voice. 

he peeked one eye open, only to see you bandaging a player’s arm with your gentle, caring hands. 

he didn’t like it. not one bit.

without saying a word, he casually strolled over and collapsed on top of you like a human-sized koala. 

“nagi! what are you –”

“mmm. comfy,” he mumbled against your shoulder, making himself at home. 

you were literally pinned underneath his entire weight, trying to shove him off, but he only clung tighter, his limbs practically draping over you like a weighted blanket. 

the injured player blinked at the scene in confusion. “uh… is he okay?”

nagi, without lifting his head, muttered sleepily, “mine.” 

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “… what?”

“you’re mine,” he repeated, voice muffled against your skin, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

the entire field went silent.

the player you were bandaging glanced between the two of you, brows furrowed. “wait. are you two… together?”

nagi didn’t even lift his head.

“mmm. yeah,” he mumbled. “she’s my girlfriend.”

you could feel your soul leave your body.

the team, now fully aware of your not-so-secret relationship, was staring at you in shock. 

meanwhile, nagi stayed exactly where he was, fully prepared to take a nap on top of you, completely unfazed by the fact that he just exposed the two of you to the entire team. 

later, when you asked him why he did that, he just shrugged lazily and went, “too much of a hassle to keep it a secret.”

isagi yoichi

isagi was in the middle of practice, minding his business, being the good, hard-working soccer boy he was, when he saw you crouched down on the field, tending to someone’s knee. 

at first, he didn’t think much of it, until he noticed just how close you were leaning toward the guy. 

and that’s when his brain started spiraling. 

“wait. why is she holding his leg like that? … wait. is she… she’s SMILING???”

isagi tried to focus on practice, but his passes were getting sloppy because he kept glancing over at you. 

then, as if to personally ruin isagi’s life, the injured player casually rested his hand on your thigh for balance while you were wrapping his knee. 

and that was it. isagi blacked out. 

before he even realized what he was doing, he was storming over like a man on a mission. 

he didn’t say a word. just gently grabbed your wrist and yanked you off the field. 

you blinked up at him, startled. “yoichi? what are you –”

“you’re my girlfriend.”

you: ???

the injured player: ???

the entire field: ???

isagi, suddenly realizing what he just blurted out in front of everyone, stared at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

“…i, uh, i mean –” he stammered, his face turning bright red. 

but it was too late. the damage was done. 

shidou (grinning like the menace he was): “ooohhh. so that’s why you’ve been smiling at your phone like a dumbass.”

kaiser: “figures. he plays like a lovesick golden retriever half the time.”

nagi (half-asleep): “mmm. knew it.”

isagi, face redder than a stop sign, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

and now every single one of his teammates was planning to make fun of him for the next 10-15 business years. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[nyukaart]

I hate that the age of consent here is 16

It gives 20 year olds the "green light" to hit on students who are still learning English bro💔

A guy in his like mid 30s asked me my age and when I said 16 he said his colleague wants my number, the colleague in question looked like a college/uni student btw

It's genuinely frustrating seeing my friends go through the same thing of having adults freely flirt with them

Ok yea that's all xoxo

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 30/30

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words, scenes of violence, coercion, psychological pressure, death of one of the main characters.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Here is the last chapter 💜💔 I have a few words for you my beloved. Please read my "love and gratitude letter" for you. By the way, I reread the text and it seemed to me that there was some kind of misunderstanding, but I assure you (you will understand when you read what I'm saying) that Jungkook love Y/N very much, but at that moment he had to deal with Doohoon. He didn't leave her to her own devices, even though she was hurting, it was just that things needed to be resolved with Doohoon! Oh, I hope you don't misunderstand me 🫂💞❤️‍🔥

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi , @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult, @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @curse-of-art2 @wintaemoonjen, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @someonegoood, @kooko007, @indigomoonchild09, @zeytiable (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 30. A candy with the taste of revenge. 

The morning was gray and cold. The sun was barely breaking through the heavy clouds, as if hesitating whether to fully illuminate the day. The wind swayed the bare trees along the highway, but the speed at which the Mercedes was traveling made sway hardly noticeable.

Jungkook silently pressed down on the gas pedal, making the car fly forward. The night was sleepless. He, Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, and Jin watched the surveillance footage, trying to find even the slightest clue. When Jimin found out that your trail broke off at Panho Bridge, Jungkook thought he was going to go crazy. He immediately went to the Han River, but found no sign that you had been there.

Later, he received a call from Jimin and ordered him to go to the company immediately to track the cameras around the city. At the same time, they checked the managers. They found you only in the morning. Jin was able to connect to all the city's cameras and saw Doohoon taking you outside of Seoul. According to Jin, you were probably in a house that once belonged to Doohoon's uncle.

After receiving the coordinates, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok immediately went to the location. But when they arrived, the house was empty. Only fresh tire marks on the ground and leftover food indicated that someone had recently been there.

Soon, Jin called. He and Yoongi had managed to find the "rat" who had been leaking information to Doohoon and Sehun. It was one of Namjoon's managers, Seo Insoo. He heard about your kidnapping, knew that Jungkook and his friends were looking for you, and passed this information on to Doohoon. That's why you were no longer in the house. Jin caught the traitor red-handed on the phone and managed to track the GPS signal. This allowed him to find out exactly where Doohoon was and where he could have gone.

In order not to waste time, they split up. Jungkook and Taehyung took the highway toward Osan, while Jimin and Hosuk go to Suwon. Jin managed to catch the latter's geolocation, but Doohoon broke his phone, so their next steps were still a guess. However, he had identified several places where you could be hiding.

Now Jungkook was racing to the first of them, an old aluminum factory that had once belonged to Doohoon's uncle. The factory was on the outskirts of Osan, far from residential areas, so no one would hear if something went wrong.

Taehyung sat next to him, watching his friend closely. From time to time, he nervously ran his hand through his hair, as if trying to organize not only his strands but also his thoughts.

"We're almost there. As soon as you're near the warehouses, dial us so we know." - Taehyung said seriously into the phone as he spoke to Jimin.

Jungkook was focused on the road, but inside he was seething. How could he let this happen? Why didn't he tell you to wait for him at the company, and then you could have gone home together? Then no one would have kidnapped you.

He couldn't believe it. Doohoon dared to take you away. He made you go through fear and pain. And if he laid a finger on you.

Jungkook will make him pay. Death will seem like a gift to Doohoon compared to what he has in store for him.

"Jungkook!" - He suddenly heard his name, but he didn't even react. The car was going 180 kilometers per hour. The rain was starting to fall harder, so he couldn't afford to be distracted. "Can you even hear me?" - Taehyung asked with a hint of irritation.

"I hear you." - Jungkook grunted, but he didn't really hear anything. His thoughts were only about you.

Taehyung looked carefully at his friend's profile. After a moment of silence, he asked cautiously.

"Is she... pregnant?" 

Jungkook instantly tensed. The thought could have made him even angrier.

"Yes." - He answered shortly, gripping the steering wheel.

"I'd like to congratulate you, brother, but now's not the best time, is it?" - Taehyung said with a subtle smile. Jungkook quickly looked at him and replied. 

"You can congratulate me when Y/N is safe. And Doohoon is dead." 

"How long she’s pregnant ...um..." - Taehyung wanted to know how long Jungkook had been hiding it. "I.e. how long you know?" - He finally asked. Jungkook didn't want to talk about your pregnancy right now. The fact that you were pregnant and being held captive by Doohoon was a pain in his heart. 

"Not long. She's five weeks pregnant." - Jungkook replied, finding his strength. Taehyung clicked his tongue nervously. 

"Damn piece of shit..." - He sighed heavily, searching for words. "This makes things so much more complicated..." - Taehyung felt a strong tension. He knew it was probably better to keep quiet and not make Jungkook feel even worse. Jungkook kept stepping on the gas in silence. "We'll find her." - Taehyung said seriously. He had to support his friend. Jungkook nodded, although deep down he had a feeling that they might not make it.

A few minutes later, Taehyung received a text message on his phone. He read it quickly and then looked up.

"Jimin says they found another trail. He sent his men to another possible hideout for Doohoon." - He said tensely. 

"Let them look." - Jungkook grunted, not slowing down.

Fog began to envelop the highway. Combined with the rain, it only made driving more difficult, but Jungkook didn't care. In his mind, he was already there - in that damn factory. The huge, dark silhouette of the plant was already looming ahead. The rain had intensified, large drops slamming against the windshield, leaving blurry marks that the wipers immediately destroyed. The wind was also getting stronger. 

Jungkook slammed on the brakes, stopping the car a few meters from the entrance. They couldn't risk driving straight into the territory - it was too easy to get trapped.

"The rain is playing into our hands." - Taehyung said quietly, looking in the direction of the factory. "But we have to be careful, he's definitely got a weapon with him." 

Jungkook silently got out of the car, throwing his jacket over his shoulders. The pistol in his holster gave off a pleasant heaviness - something he would need today. 

"Jimin, we're here. We're going to go inside with Jungkook. If we don't get in touch in 30 minutes, come here." - Taehyung muttered into the phone, dialing his friend. 

"Okay, you got it. I'll be waiting for your call. We're on our way too." - Jimin's voice came through the phone. Taehyung was opening the trunk, taking out another weapon. Jungkook stared intensely at the factory. Its lifeless appearance made Jungkook feel pain. He can keep you there. It's cold, dirty, and you're probably exhausted and scared. Anger filled every cell in Jungkook's body. He will destroy Doohoon, today, once and for all, because he crossed the line. 

"Are you ready?" - Taehyung asked as he walked up to Jungkook and reloaded his gun.

Jungkook glanced at his friend and then turned his gaze back to the factory windows, which were completely dark. A cold fire burned in his eyes.

"I will destroy it!" - Jungkook said and walked forward with determination. 

Jungkook walked in front, Taehyung a little behind. They looked around carefully, and walked through the thicket so that they were less visible through the windows, in case Doohoon was watching. The rain dripped monotonously, soaking Jungkook and Taehyung within minutes of reaching the entrance of the dilapidated factory. 

It was dusty and cold inside. Jungkook stood at the entrance, peering into the darkness. It was quiet inside - too quiet. But he knew you were there. He could feel it.

The wind came through the cracks and made the place even more oppressive. Jungkook and Taehyung looked around. The factory was big and they had to go around to find you. Taehyung pushed Jungkook's shoulder lightly, getting his attention.

"We need to split up. She could be anywhere." - Taehyung said in a low voice. Jungkook nodded. He knew it was for the best, but right now, all he wanted to do was find you and take you away.

Taehyung went to inspect the lower part, while Jungkook went upstairs. He pointed the gun forward and listened to every sound. Jungkook walked quietly and like a shadow. Because of the heavy black clouds and rain, it was dark inside. 

Jungkook moved upstairs, walking so quietly that even the old metal floor beneath him made little sound. Water from his jacket dripped onto the concrete, leaving dark spots.

The aluminum smelter was huge and abandoned. It had once been a bustling place, but now only the wind wandered through the empty workshops, making the rusty beams creak. In some places, broken wires hung from the ceiling, and pieces of scrap metal lay underfoot. The air was full of dust and the smell of rust, mingling with the musty aroma of moisture.

Jungkook cautiously walked past the row of broken machines, his eyes sliding around every nook and cranny. There were no footprints. No sound. Only the wind howling and the sound of raindrops on the iron roof.

He looked into a small back room, but it was empty.

"Where are you?" - He whispered. His heart was beating faster and faster. Anger, anxiety, and impatience mixed into one burning cocktail.

Suddenly he heard voices. Jungkook stopped abruptly. He cocked his gun, listening. The voice grew louder. It was right above him. His heart thumped loudly against his chest.

He raised his head. He started to move toward the sound. And then he heard Doohoon screaming. Jungkook ran toward the stairs.

They swayed under his weight, creaking as if they were threatening to collapse at any moment. But he didn't stop.

When he reached the top floor, he found himself in a long corridor. Old lamps were hanging from the ceiling, but none of them were lit. It was even darker here than downstairs. 

A few more steps. He heard nothing, it was quiet again. Jungkook stopped in front of a door, which was the only one slightly ajar. It was old, with peeling paint.

He put his hand on the handle and gripped the gun tighter with his other hand. He pushed it open slowly.

And he saw you. You were sitting on the floor, tied up, with a busted lip, disheveled hair and all dirty. Your eyes were full of pain, but at the same time - unconquerable.

He met your gaze. And his heart went into overdrive. He was instantly at your side. He knelt down and grabbed your face. 

"My love." - He whispered, looking into your eyes, which seemed unable to believe that Jungkook was real. They filled with tears and you finally cried. 

"Jungkook..." - You said, your voice breaking. Jungkook wrapped you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, wanting to feel that you were real. That he had finally found you. He thought he'd go crazy if he didn't find you. 

"Did he hurt you? Are you in any pain? Did he injure you?" - Jungkook asked question after question, looking into your tired eyes, filled with tears that flowed like a stream. 

You did not answer. You just closed your eyes and sobbed, clinging to Jungkook as if you were afraid he would disappear. His heart clenched with pain. He ran his palm through your dirty, tousled locks, angrily noticing the bruises on your wrists from the ropes.

"It's okay, my love. I'm here... I'm here..." - His voice was low, warm, cautious, like a gentle whisper in the dark.

Jungkook pulled a knife from his belt, holstering his gun before he went, and quickly cut the ropes that had cut into your skin. Your arms fell down and you shuddered as the blood started to circulate again. He immediately grabbed your palms, pressed them to his lips, and lightly kissed the red marks of the bindings.

"I'm going to kill him..." - Jungkook exhaled, his voice filled with icy hatred. He wanted to get up, go, and destroy Doohoon right now. "I will destroy him. Is the baby okay?" - Jungkook asks. You just nod, still sobbing. He kisses you on the forehead and you feel how warm his lips are. Jungkook looked around. 

"Where is that bastard?" - He asked you again. 

"I... I don't know... he went out." - You say quietly. 

"I have to find him..." - Jungkook says, pulling his phone out of his wet jacket. He types a message to Taehyung that he found you and that you are on the top floor. Jungkook tried to get up, but you clung to him with weak fingers, as if begging him to stay.

"Don't go..." - Your voice broke, and your eyes burned, as if you were afraid to be alone with the nightmare again.

Jungkook froze. He couldn't leave you. Not now.

He gently picked you up, wrapping you in his jacket to keep you warm. You didn't resist, just buried your face in his neck.

"It's over. I'm taking you away from here." - Jungkook whispered, but his eyes burned with cold revenge. He turned to the door.

And then... Loud footsteps.

It was Doohoon.

Jungkook turned around, and his gaze, which had just been full of tenderness, turned into a pitiless darkness.

He pulled you to your feet and stood by the window. He noticed the gun. Doohoon had left it right on the windowsill. He grabbed it and loaded it. He put it in your hands and said. 

"If something goes wrong, shoot." - You looked at him frightened. 

"I'm not going to kill him." - You whispered, shaking your head. Jungkook grabbed your face and drew closer. 

"Don't kill him. Just shoot to the side to distract him." - You didn't have time to say no. The door opened and you and Jungkook saw Doohoon who come in. 

Doohoon froze in the doorway. His eyes were full of hatred. But he was smiling evilly. Doohoon slowly stepped inside, his gait relaxed, but his eyes betrayed tension. He looked from Jungkook to you, and his smile grew even wider.

"Of course you're here. I admit I was expecting you much later. You're the best at what you do, as usually, aren't you?" - Doohoon asked. Jungkook raised his eyebrows and pressed his body closer to you, protecting you with his body. 

"And you're using dirty methods as usually, bastard. I'm going to kill you for stealing her." - Jungkook said, his voice sharper than a knife. Doohoon burst out laughing. Jungkook just watched, and you shivered from the cold behind him. He knew Taehyung was coming because he had sent him a text. His sudden appearance would be to his advantage. 

"I took what should have been mine from the beginning. She was supposed to be mine, but you're a greedy scumbag who decided that your best friend is just your property. You even managed to knock her up." - Doohoon says. Jungkook clenches his fists and prepares to just shoot Doohoon in the head. But he can't do it in front of you. It would be too traumatic an experience for you, and it could affect your pregnancy. 

"I will just blow out all your brains and they will decorate the walls here." - Jungkook says. 

"No, man. Let's have a real fight between us. For her. The one who wins will take her for himself. But let's not use weapons, because it's not interesting. Let's fight for her with our own strength." - Jungkook suddenly laughed. Doohoon tensed up and the smile disappeared from his face instantly. 

"You're dumbass. You still don't understand that she's not a thing that can be taken anyone’s of us. She is my woman. Mine! And she will never be yours, and no amount of fighting will make her yours." - Jungkook said, pronouncing each word angrily. Jungkook took a step forward, and his voice, though quiet, was bone-chilling.

"Do you know what your problem is, Doohoon?" - He looked directly into his enemy's eyes, and his gaze burned with anger mixed with contempt. "For as long as I've known you, you've been trying to be better than me, from getting a place in the Taekwondo school to the Y/N. But the truth is, you just wanted to be me. But you failed. You failed every time. And you know why? Because you're a nobody. You're a miserable prat who's spent your whole life envying and copying me." - Jungkook said. Doohoon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowed, and his hands shook with pent-up anger.

"Shut up..." - He wheezed, but Jungkook just smiled in defiance.

"You can run after me all your life, copy my movements, my habits, but you will never be me. You're a crazy lunatic who thinks you can steal everything-even someone else's life." - Jungkook stopped a few steps away from Dohun, ready for anything. Doohoon took a sharp breath, his hands clenched into fists, and his eyes darkened with rage.

"You think I was copying you? No. Your arrogance is so great that you think you are the navel of the earth. You talked only about yourself, thought only about yourself. You never even considered me as a friend, and I was just your shadow. When I began to like Y/N and I admitted it to you, you became a psycho, obsessed with taking her away from me. And you were only lucky in that she unfortunately liked you. I could have had a good chance to be her boyfriend, but you did everything to make her give herself to you, an insatiable bastard who didn't mind any hole, and you took her virginity as a reward." - Doohoon said. Jungkook stood still for a moment. He was seething with anger. His dark eyes flashed dangerously, and something invisible and heavy seemed to have thickened in the air. Any more and Jungkook would turn his face into a mess. 

He was looking at Doohoon as if he was assessing his every bone and muscle, as if he was deciding whether he should spend another second with him. You looked nervously at Doohoon's face, which was saturated with hatred and rage. 

"Oh, so now you're a victim?" - Jungkook tilted his head to the side, his voice sounding poisonously calm. "Poor Doohoon, always in the shadow of me. I'm surprised you haven't realized it's not about me. It's about you."  - Doohoon gritted his teeth, his fingers clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "You called yourself my friend, you hurt me, then you apologized, and then you wanted me to fail again. So what kind of friendship are we talking about when you've always considered me your competitor? You used to think of yourself as some kind of special victim. As if I took away all your opportunities, as if I deliberately destroyed your chances. But, Doohoon, you never had a chance. You're too weak. Not because you're physically inferior to me, but because you have nothing inside you." - Jungkook took another step forward, forcing Doohoon to back away. 

"You don't know how to build your own life. You were just looking for someone to lean on, someone to blame. First it was your father, then me, now Y/N. But you know what's funny? Even now you don't realize that you lost not because of me, but because of yourself." - Jungkook did not stop. Doohoon was breathing heavily, his face red with anger. 

"You didn't even see me until I became your opponent! And now you're standing there preaching to me?" - Doohoon was trembling with hatred. 

"No, Doohoon." - Jungkook narrowed his eyes coldly. "I've seen you. I've seen you become more and more pathetic, sinking to the very bottom because you couldn't bear the thought of someone better than you. I saw your failed attempts to become me. And you know what? I even felt sorry for you. But now..." - Jungkook was silent for a moment. "Now I don't even feel sorry for you anymore." - Jungkook said in a tone of utter contempt. Doohoon clenched his fists, and at that moment his patience broke. He lunged forward, swinging at Jungkook with all his might, but he dodged.

At the last moment, he grabbed Doohoon's arm and twisted it back sharply, making his opponent cry out in pain. Jungkook held him, and he twisted and writhed in pain. You stared at it all in fright, not knowing what to do. You instinctively clenched your fingers around the cold metal of the gun in your hand. 

"Are you angry now because I'm telling the truth? Because you lost again?" - Jungkook held Doohoon tightly. "You know what I'm most grateful for? That you and your father set me up. For trying to destroy me. But thanks to you, I got real friends, not problems. Those you have never had and will never have. I know what real support is. And you? You are left with nothing." - Jungkook continued to press on Doohoon’s arm, but the latter, gritting his teeth, jerked forward with all his might, pulling his limb out of his grip. 

He turned sharply and threw a swinging punch Jungkook barely managed to dodge it, but he took the next blow to the stomach completely. He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain spreading through his body, but he didn't stop. An elbow to the jaw forced Doohoon to retreat, and Jungkook took advantage of this to apply a takedown and throw him to the ground.

The air was filled with heavy breathing and dull sounds of blows. They fought like beasts-without rules, without pity. Doohoon rushed forward again, trying to grab Jungkook by the throat, but he intercepted his arm and punched him sharply in the chest. Doohoon grunted, but he didn't give up-he swung his leg, and this time Jungkook didn't have time to dodge. He flew backwards, falling to the concrete floor.

You instinctively clenched the gun in your hands even harder, so that your fingers turned white. Your breath came out in ragged gulps, and your heart was beating so hard it was echoing in your temples. They were fighting in earnest, and even though Jungkook was strong, Doohoon was not giving in. You didn't know what to do until you suddenly saw Doohoon pushing Jungkook into the wall, his arms tightly closed around his opponent's neck.

"Stop it!" - You shouted, running over to them. You wanted to save Jungkook. He couldn't lose. He was not supposed to lose.

You ran over and grabbed Doohoon’s arm, trying to pull him away from Jungkook. But he turned around and pushed you away so hard that you couldn't stay on your feet. Your heavy body flew backwards uncontrollably, and you felt a sharp pain in your head as you hit the metal frame. The world around you shook, your eyes blurred, and hot blood ran down your temple.

Doohoon punched Jungkook in the face, then in the solar plexus. He fell to the floor. Doohoon exhaled all the pent-up anger and walked over to you, his eyes flashing with hatred.

"You're a fool! You're protecting him. You always do. I will kill your lover today, and then maybe you. Because I'm not sure if I'll want you after all this." - Doohoon said, towering over you. 

Jungkook, who was still lying on the floor, heard these words. He heard you moan softly in pain. Everything around you seemed to blur, and only one thing flashed through my mind-he must never touch you again. Never again.

He stood up again, gritting his teeth in rage and pain, and lunged at Doohoon with renewed vigor. Doohoon fought back, and Jungkook advanced more and more actively. They were determined not to give in to each other. The lead was constantly changing. At first, Jungkook was the one who was attacking, but as soon as he has a little distract, he became the one who needed to defend. He had to finish off Doohoon quickly so he could get to you and check if you were okay. 

Their fight moved from the room where you were sitting to the stairs. They were exchanging brutal blows-each of them dead tired, both drenched in sweat and blood-but neither stopped.

"Jungkook!" - Another voice called out. It was Taehyung. His eyes quickly ran over the scene in front of him, the bloody Jungkook, and Doohoon, who was equally wounded. Taehyung came running with a gun in hands. 

"Take her away!" - Shouted Jungkook, not stopping his attack on Doohoon. "She's in the room! Get her out of here!" - Taehyung immediately rushed over to you. 

While Taehyung tried to help you, Jungkook continued to fight. But the sleepless night searching for you was taking its toll. Jungkook was at the limit of his physical capabilities. He hadn't slept for a day, he was mentally exhausted because he had to defend himself to Namjoon, had a fight with you, and then found out that you had been kidnapped. His body ached, his fists ached from the blows, but he held on. 

At some point, his fingers touched the cold metal on his belt. His gun. It could have been the end. Jungkook snatched it from its holster. But Doohoon saw it coming. At the same moment, he kicked him in the arm, and the weapon flew out of Jungkook's fingers, clattering to the floor.

"No weapons, remember?" - Doohoon smiled wryly and swung again. Jungkook fought well, but this time Doohoon didn't give him a chance. A powerful punch to the stomach made him curl up, another to the face knocked him back. He hit the railing of the stairs and wheezed heavily.

Doohoon, breathing heavily, lifted Jungkook by his hair and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Now which one of us is pathetic? You noticed I'm well prepared. I'm going to throw you down and you're going to kiss the floor and fall into an eternal sleep. And Y/N will now be mine and I will do whatever I want with her. I win, Jeon Jungkook." - He whispered the last sentence into his ear. 

Doohoon pulled his hand back, about to throw him down. Jungkook saw him preparing for the last move. But at that very moment, when Doohoon leaned forward to push harder, Jungkook elbowed him sharply in the ribs. It was unexpected, and Doohoon automatically loosened his grip.

Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used this moment to bend down, twist out of his grip, and push him with his whole body.

Doohoon didn't have time to get his bearings. He tried to grab the railing, but missed. Terror appeared in his eyes as he realized he was falling. His body flipped uncontrollably in the air, and the next moment he disappeared over the edge of the stairs.

Jungkook was breathing heavily as he stood over the precipice. He spat blood and looked down. Doohoon will never move again. 

The majestic house, located in a prestigious area of the capital, looked luxurious even among other mansions. Its architecture combined modern minimalism and elegant classics: tall windows with black frames, a light facade made of natural stone, a wide terrace overlooking the garden, where well-kept trees cast soft shadows on the marble paths. Inside, there was a spacious lobby, a shiny Italian marble floor, and a crystal chandelier that reflected soft light throughout the room. Although the house looked expensive and minimalism, it had a cozy feel. 

You stood by the window in the nursery, holding the phone to your ear. The baby was sleeping sweetly in his crib, immersed in a world of dreams, and you were staring at the Seoul night skyline, listening to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes, I'll check how this happened and get report to Namjoon."  - You said confidently but quietly, patting the baby on the back. "No, he shouldn't know about this before time. All the details have to be confirmed first." - You explained as you left the nursery. Your tone was even, cold, professional. Once upon a time, you hadn't even imagined saying these things, but life had changed you, and now you confidently took your place next to Jungkook.

You remember the day that changed you and your life in detail, because it was a nightmare. Meeting Ji Sung, then going to Mono Corp and meeting Namjoon, fighting with Jungkook, and being kidnapped by Doohoon. Doohoon kidnapped you and held you captive, but Jungkook found you. And when he came to rescue you at an abandoned aluminum factory, he and Doohoon got into a fight and Doohoon died after falling from a height. 

You will never forget his body, a strangely shaped body lying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. 

You hated Doohoon. You hated every moment of his captivity. In some moments you even wanted him dead. But when it yet... it became a difficult experience for you. His dead body repeatedly came to you in your dreams. His eyes, full of horror, haunted you at night, forcing you to wake up in the silence with sticky sweat on your skin. But you never told Jungkook about it. Fortunately, though, after going through a lot of stress and traumatic experiences, you were able to keep your pregnancy alive. 

You remember coming to the defense of your thesis with a big belly, which you had been working on diligently throughout your pregnancy. For you, this work became an escape from reality, because as soon as you immersed yourself in it, you forgot about all the horror you had experienced. 

You and Jungkook confessed your expectancy to your parents when you were about two months pregnant. They were happy and as Jungkook said earlier, they immediately started planning the wedding. So after another two months you became Jungkook's wife.

When you first heard Jungkook call you his wife in front of someone else, your heart skipped a beat. And then it filled with warmth. You were used to him belonging to you as much as you belonged to him, but hearing it out loud was special. 

And then you gave birth. You gave birth to a boy. Yongsu . It was the name Jungkook chose for him, and it meant pure and long-lasting. You let your husband choose the name. After giving birth, you were mostly at home with your child. Jungkook bought a house in Hannam-dong, and you moved there after the wedding. 

You remember how you started working for the Ran Noir clan and how you changed after the kidnapping. Jungkook told you that Namjoon had forgiven him for his debt. You were happy to hear that, but Jungkook also told you that he didn't want to leave the mafia world. You were against it at first and you had some serious fights, but eventually you accepted Jungkook's position.

One night you were lying there thinking about everything you had been through and what had happened to Jungkook. You realized that you had been captured by Doohoon because of your weakness. If you had been more determined and tougher with him, he would have let you go much sooner and maybe he would be alive now. 

You knew everyone from Ran Noir, thanks to Jungkook, and you saw that they are not ruthless monsters. They are people who have a code and are engaged in a business that just has somewhat undiplomatic methods. But they are power, authority, control, and you were attracted to that.

You made a decision that you have no right to force Jungkook to choose between you and the clan, as you did before. You decided to become a person who would always be on Jungkook's side, no matter what side it was - black or white. After all, you would love this man forever and know that if he was by your side, you would be happiest. 

So very soon after you told Jungkook your opinion and that you were okay with it, he was happy and grateful.

Jimin and Taehyung asked you for help several times. You did a great job of helping them.  Jungkook was against it at first, he wanted you to stay away from the world if mafia. But you couldn't, because you wanted to gain strength and control over your own fears, and working for such a strong clan helped you do that. 

When Yoongi asked you for help, you were shocked and of course you didn't mind. Very soon after, Namjoon offered you the position of an analyst. That is, a person who would develop negotiation strategies, analyze information about competitors and enemies. You were supposed to be a tool in finding weaknesses in the businesses, schemes, and plans of the enemy. Not exactly your profession as a journalist, but you used your undercover journalism. 

You never thought that your life would turn out this way. That one day you, a man who once feared even the shadow of the mafia world, would become a part of it. But you also never imagined that you would love the man who belonged to that world so much that you would choose to stay by his side anyway.

Jungkook didn't immediately accept your decision. He spent a long time convincing you that you had no place in this. He thought you were doing it out of stubbornness, out of a desire to prove something to him.

Over time, Jungkook began to accept that you were now a part of this world. Moreover, you became a valuable asset to the clan. Namjoon personally recognized your analytical work, and Yoongi even joked that you could have been his right-hand man if you weren't Jungkook's wife.

You and he became a real team. Working together, you complemented each other: he was a man of action, and you were a mind that built strategies. When he was on his way to a meeting, you already knew what his opponent would say. When he was planning an operation, you would break it down into details and find the enemy's weaknesses.

You were no longer afraid. And when you first heard from Namjoon that your name was being spoken with respect in mafia circles, you just smiled.

Jungkook saw how you changed. He no longer tried to stop you. Because you were by his side not as someone to be protected, but as his equal.

"I never thought I would see you like this one day." - He said one evening when you were sitting in the office discussing a new assignment.

"Do you regret it?" - You asked then. 

"On the contrary." - He smiled at you. "I'm proud. My mafia queen." 

You closed the door of the children's room and met a 45-year-old woman. The maid standing by the door bowed silently.

"I need to go to Jungkook, please look after Yongsu." - You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The woman just nodded, and you lightly touched the cold metal of the wedding ring on your finger and went to Jungkook's office.

The second floor greeted you with dim lighting and the scent of expensive wood. You walked down a long corridor, stopped in front of a heavy dark walnut door, and knocked lightly.

"Come in." - You heard a familiar voice. Jungkook was sitting at a large desk, deep in papers and monitor screens. His jacket was casually thrown over his chair, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, and his dark hair slightly disheveled, as he had been working nonstop for hours. He came back from the company around 9 p.m. and has been sitting here ever since. 

You walked closer, holding your tablet, leaning on the edge of the table and looking at your husband.

"We have a problem." - You began, crossing your arms over your chest. Jungkook finally tore his eyes away from the monitor and raised an eyebrow, assessing you.

"Problem?" - He leaned back, scrutinizing your features.

"Yes, and a pretty serious one at that." - You ran your fingers across the table, leaning a little closer. "I think you should take a look at this." - You handed him the tablet, but Jungkook didn't even move. His eyes lingered on your face, sliding down the thin fabric of your shirt, your posture. "Jungkook!" - You called out to him, as if to scold him for looking at you with devouring eyes. But Jungkook just hummed and grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to sit on his lap.

"Problems can wait." - He whispered, breathing in the scent of your skin. You rolled your eyes but didn't resist. You ran your fingers down his forearm, feeling the tension of the muscles beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

"You're just looking for an excuse not to work..." - You murmured. You put the tablet somewhere on the table so you don't accidentally drop it and running your nails along his neck. Jungkook smiled, his fingers slowly sliding down your back before pulling you confidently closer.

"When you're around me, I don't think about anything else." - He declares. His voice became deeper and his eyes darkened with desire. He leaned in, his lips touching your neck, leaving a slight heat on your skin. You felt your breathing become heavier, but you still tried to maintain control.

"Jungkook, we... have... work to do..." - You barely managed to say, fighting the sensation of his lips on your neck. 

"It can wait." - He murmured, nibbling on your ear. His hands slid lower, his fingers finding the gentle curve of your hips. He knew you wouldn't resist for long.

"We really won't get anything done if you..." - But your voice trailed off as he abruptly pulled you even tighter against him.

"I don't see the problem." - His hot whisper made you shiver. You were about to say something else, but then he kissed you - deeply, greedily, as if he wanted to take all your strength with that kiss. And at that moment, all your arguments evaporated. Jungkook always knew how to make you forget about everything in the world.

His lips slowly made their way down your neck, leaving hot trails as he pulled away from your sweet lips. You closed your eyes, feeling your heart speed up. You'd always thought you'd learned to control your reactions, but with Jungkook, it was impossible. 

"You're just taking advantage of the fact that I can't say no to you." - You whispered, but your voice didn't sound like a real reproach. Jungkook lifted his head, his lips touched your cheekbone, and then slowly rose to your ear.

"Can you?" - He playfully bit your earlobe, causing you to take a slight shaky breath.

"Uh... Theoretically..." - You pressed your lips together, trying to hide your smile. Jungkook snorted, his hands sliding confidently down your back and then stopping at your buttocks, squeezing them.

"And practically?" - He asked again. You opened your eyes and looked down at him, your eyes sparkling with a sly smile.

"Practically..." - You leaned in closer, deliberately touching his lips slowly. "I think you have to convince me." - Jungkook laughed hoarsely. You admired your husband mesmerized. 

"Oh, baby, you have no idea what you're asking for." - Jungkook purred. His hands tightened on your buttocks, and the next moment he stood up from the chair, lifting you up with him. You screamed, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Jungkook!" - You squeaked. 

"What? I'm just going to convince you." - He laughed as he watched your cheeks flush. You tried to get to your feet, but he didn't let you. His hands slid down your hips, and then he lowered you onto the desk, pushing the documents to the sides. Your skirt was pulled up in one motion so that you could open your legs wider for Jungkook. 

"You know I'm going to drop everything again." - You reminded him with a sly smile, lightly running your fingers through his hair.

"Let's be honest, you do it on purpose." - His fingers slowly penetrated your shirt.

 "Maybe." - You smiled slyly. Jungkook leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours. 

"Admit it, you like to provoke me." - He insisted. You slid your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the strength that lurked beneath his clothes.

"If I didn't like it, would I be your wife?" - You asked rhetorically. His eyes flashed.

"I knew that, but I had to make sure. If you like provocation so much, you should know how it will end." - He said into your lips. Your laughter dissolved on his lips as he grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss, stripping you of your last vestiges of resistance. His tongue filled your mouth with possessiveness and you were ready to obey him. 

His lips moved down, hot and relentless, leaving traces of his claim on every millimeter of your skin. You felt shivers run down your spine as his fingers slowly touched your thigh as if to tease you, and then gently moved upward. He began to undress you. He wanted to tear the shirt that fit you perfectly, but he knew you would protest and scold him for ruining another thing.

It didn't take long for Jungkook to get you naked. Wasting no time after he removed the your shirt, he immediately freed your breasts from the lace bra. Your nipples immediately hardened, and you don't know if it was from the cold or from excitement. It seems both theories are correct. Jungkook leaned over to your nipple and took it into his mouth. He sucked on it pleasantly, making you want to do it more. 

"Kook..." - Your voice was soft, almost pleading.

"What, baby?" - His low voice sounded close to your flesh, and his warm breath caused a pleasant shiver somewhere in the innermost corners of your mind. You pressed harder against his crotch, your fingers tightening their grip on the fabric of his shirt.

"Let's make this quick, we still have work to do." - Your lips stretched into a sly smile, even though you knew you'd forgotten all about any business. Jungkook looked up, his dark eyes glowing with dangerous confidence.

"No, there will be no quick. Besides, I'm already working." - His hands squeezed your buttocks confidently. "I'm just focused on the most important task at hand." - You could barely contain your laughter.

"So what are you working?" - You asked through a big smile. 

"To make sure my wife never thinks about running away again when I take her." - He said with a cocky smile on his lips. His words made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, Jungkook grabbed your hips and pulled you sharply even closer, forcing your pussy into his semi-hard cock. You clenched your legs around his crotch to calm the throbbing between your legs. "You know what drives me crazy the most?" - He leaned in, forcing you to tilt your head back as his lips were at your neck again.

"What?" - You barely managed to get the word out when his breath burned your skin.

"That even after all these years, you still know how to make me forget everything and want you as insatiably as the first time." - Jungkook confessed. You felt a butterfly in your stomach. It had been a long time since he had made you feel that way. His lips captured yours again, this time deeper, more passionately, while his arms held you tightly, not giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn't want to, either.

His tongue was intertwined with yours. The desire to have Jungkook inside you grew stronger. He broke the kiss, finally running his tongue over your plump lower lip. 

Jungkook pulled your skirt up to your stomach and tugged your lace thong down, pushing you to the edge of the table. He knelt down on his knees. He touched your aroused center with his finger, causing you to shudder slightly. A soft moan escaped your lips. 

Jungkook massaged your clit, greedily enjoying the sight of your wet pussy. He kissed it, lightly sucking on your center. You clutched his hair with your fingers, not controlling your movements. Your legs trembled a little, but when Jungkook grabbed them in a vice grip, you relaxed. Your husband drew a long strip his tongue across your velvet folds and then looked up at you. 

"You're flowing on my tongue, baby. You so badly want me to eat you?" - You opened your eyes, which had been closed in pleasure. Your gaze was clouded with lust and desire, at the same time. His black eyes, which looked like toy eyes, had nothing to do with them. Although they looked innocent, they looked into your very soul. 

"Please, Kook, don't talk, just do." - You begged. Jungkook slapped you, lightly, but you still screamed, clenching your fingers on his shoulders. 

"Wrong answer, love." - He said, smiling at the corner of his lips. You breathed heavily. And then you smiled back. 

"Oh honey, I can't wait for you to eat me and then fuck me so I forget the world exists." - You said seductively, and Jungkook liked that answer. He squeezed your thighs harder, digging his nails into the soft flesh, and finally got down to business. 

He touched his lips to the inside of your thighs. His lips were hot and it caused a wave of uncontrollable goosebumps. He kissed you between your thighs, slowly getting closer to your pussy as if he was mocking you. You were literally dripping onto the table. Suddenly he bit you, it didn't hurt, but you felt a slight tingling sensation. 

You bit your lip to keep from screaming. Jungkook left in a hurry, and you wanted to tell him to do what he had to do, but you didn't say anything. Otherwise he would punish you again, even though you always had fun doing it. But it was as if he was deliberately not touching where he should have, and you grew more and more impatient. 

Jungkook approached slowly, and when his lips finally came to your pussy, you rejoiced. As he sucked on your center, you moaned louder and louder. He let go of your clit and then began to play with it with his tongue, caressing it in a circular motion. You put your hands on the table, sliding your nails over the lacquered surface. You arched your back, leaned on your arms, threw your head back, and completely surrendered to the pleasure Jungkook had so skillfully created. 

You come on his tongue with a loud moan full of pleasure. Jungkook feels your clit twitching. He lingers his tongue on your folds until you stop shuddering. He stands up, wiping his chin of your juices. Your eyes are blurry, but you smile happily. 

You breathed heavily, trying to somehow regain control of your body, which was still trembling from the pleasure you had experienced. Jungkook looked at you with a smug smile, knowing that he had once again brought you to a state where you could not say a word. Jungkook ran his finger over your slightly swollen lip, humming with satisfaction.

"What, my love?" - His voice was low and measured, but his eyes were burning with hunger. "Can't you get a word out?" - You inhaled heavily, barely forcing yourself to focus on him.

"You... you almost destroyed me..." - You whispered, making him laugh briefly. You raised your hand, gently sliding your fingers down his chest. 

Jungkook leaned closer, making you feel his hot breath on your skin. His fingers, so confident and strong, ran down your neck, leaving you with light goosebumps once again.

"Almost?" - He raised an eyebrow, as if considering your words. "Does that mean I haven't done my job yet?"

His lips touched your neck, leaving a hot trail there. You felt desire flare up inside you again, and your body treacherously pressed closer to him. He leaned his hands on the table, and you were very close. Your pussy throbbed again when he pressed his hard cock against you, which was tight in his pants. 

"Kook..." - Your voice was quiet, barely audible, but he knew exactly what you were trying to say.

"Don't worry, baby..." - He raised his head, his eyes shining with dark passion. "I won't stop until I've destroyed you completely."

"Then why are you still dressed?" - You said, your eyes full of lust. He hummed, cocky and short. 

"Oh, I'm in no hurry..." - He grabbed your buttocks and literally pressed you into him against you, making you feel how ready he was. "I want you to beg for it." -You broke into a playful smile, running your tongue over your lower lip.

"And what will my begging get you?" - You asked out of curiosity. But you wanted him to fuck you already, because you thought begging Jungkook to do it might be one of your favorite things to do.

"That depends on how good you are at it." - His lips pressed against your ear, his voice almost a whisper. "Because I intend to take you apart tonight." - Your heart skipped a beat. You felt yourself burning again from the intimacy between you. Between the passion that is still there. You looked down at his crotch and then pushed him away slightly. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, not realizing what you did.

"Do I really need to beg you?" - You protested slightly. Jungkook's eyes darkened and he smiled predatory. He wanted to take a step toward you, but you stopped him by resting your foot on his abs. Jungkook looked away in surprise. He stared at you, and you only smiled wider.

"Don’t come any closer." - You said playfully. Jungkook was breathing heavily. And his cock twitched in his pants when he heard your hot tone. Fuck, when you forbid him, he gets horny to the max.

He grabbed your ankle, squeezed it with his fingers, but you pressed your fingertips against his abs, adding strength. 

"Maybe I should make you beg? Do you want to? Can may I make you beg so you can fuck my pussy?" - You asked seductively. Jungkook gave a low laugh. You're so bold today. He swears you'll drive him crazy. He could have told you no, taken you and punished you for disobeying him. Usually Jungkook dominates your sex, but not tonight. You also want to show him that you have power over him.

Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of own cheek, greedily looking at your face, which is seductive and beautiful. He lowers his eyes to your naked breasts, which attract him, then his gaze slides lower, wanting to see his favorite pussy, but your raised leg does not allow him to see it. You look so damn sexy and he already wants to fuck you, but he wonders how you'll make him beg.

Jungkook takes a step back, releasing your leg. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. His dark eyes glittered with hunger, and the piercing on his lip disappeared between his teeth, a habit that always drove you crazy.

"You really think you can do this, baby?" - His voice sounded dangerously low, but you just stretched your lips into an even wider smile.

"Think?" - You tilted your head, looking at him seductively from under your lashes. "No, Kook. I know I'm going to do it."

His jaw tensed, and you knew he was on the verge. But instead of lunging at you, he took another step back. 

"Okay. Make me beg." - He said with a tone of mockery. But you knew that there was no way he would be able to resist you, and you didn't understand why he was laughing at it either. You stopped smiling and became serious. You put your foot down and said. 

"Sit in the chair." - You ordered. Jungkook did not resist. He sat down in the chair, holding the armrests. He spread his legs wide, because his aroused cock was painfully resting against the in tight boxers. Jungkook leaned back, watching your movements lazily. 

You climbed off the table and slowly pulled off your skirt, completely freeing yourself from your clothes. You kept your eyes on Jungkook, who was watching you closely, though he tried to pass off a disinterested look. 

You turned your back on him and bent slightly, dropping the papers to the floor, and moved his laptop and your tablet, leaving it dangerously near the edge of the table. 

You turned around, seeing that he had just taken his eyes off your bare buttocks and pussy. You smile. 

"You haven't had the urge to ask me to take your needy cock yet?" - You asked as you sat down on the table. Jungkook laughed, and you could hear his voice growing heavy with excitement. He definitely wanted to, but he couldn't give up on you so quickly, you hadn't done much of anything.

"Your naked body attracts me as usual, but do I have to beg you for it? I could sit here forever and just looking at you." - He said. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn't give in so quickly. Although he could easily end this game. 

"Okay, love , what would you say if I touched myself..." - You spread your legs, giving him a great view of your wet pussy. You touched your clit with one hand and squeezed your breasts with the other. "Can you watch this forever, too? Or until I cum from my own fingers and just leave?" - You asked. Jungkook's breathing quickened. He gripped the armrests. His cock was throbbing and he was going crazy at the sight of you naked, sitting on his desk, touching yourself.

You were literally masturbating in front of him and he realized that he really couldn't hold back for long. He wanted to be the one who touches you. He wanted his fingers to be instead of yours. You threw your head back, moaned, and he was ready to rush at you. But when you wanted to check if he was still holding on, you noticed that he was almost on the verge. 

"Want to continue instead of me?" - You asked, licking the finger you had been caressing yourself with. And then you slowly licked your lips, as if to lick off the remains. 

Jungkook stood up abruptly, but you didn't move. He walked over slowly. You left your head slightly to keep eye contact with him. 

Jungkook stopped just a few centimeters away from you. His gaze was dark, piercing, and his jaw was tense with pent-up desire. He ran his tongue over his dry lips, as if he had already savored what he was about to do.

"So this is what you act?" - His voice was husky, and it sent hot shivers down your spine. You burned with the desire for his cock to fill you to the brim. But you just smiled slyly, not looking away.

Jungkook leaned down, his hands resting on the table on either side of you, trapping you completely. His breath was scorching, and you felt the tip of his nose gently touch your neck, sliding it along your tender skin.

"So I have to beg because of that?" - He whispered against your ear, his voice deep and teasing. You laughed, putting your hand on his chest.

"Yes... You can't let me satisfy myself on my own, right? But if you want me to want to take your cock, I want you to beg me." - You slid your fingers down his stomach, all the way to the waistband of his pants, where his cock was sticking out tensely. "And I think you're getting hard, Kook."

He laughed hoarsely, but you could see that his patience was running out.

"Please, touch me." - He suddenly wheezed, squeezing your thigh. His voice was so low that you felt as if it was penetrating your skin, making you melt even more under his touch. You smiled. God, that's a turn-on. It turns out nice when it is to be begged for. 

You undid the button on his pants, pulling them down quickly. You pulled his black Calvin Klein boxers down just as quickly, freeing his hard, aroused cock. You grabbed it with your hands and rolled it a few times. Semen dripped from his tip. 

"Hey, Jeon. Can't I see you trickle, wanting to fuck my pussy?" - You purred, masturbating him. Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, breathing heavily. 

"You're so bold today, baby. I like your power. But I'll be the one to fuck you, not you." - He said. He didn't let you answer. His lips came over yours in power. His tongue filled your mouth, immediately finding yours, intertwining them in giving a fierce passion to your kiss. Jungkook caught your tongue, which was always trying to escape his pressure, and sucked it. He broke away from you when you both needed air. 

You continued to pump him. Your thumb touched his sensitive glans several times, and your other hand caressed his balls. 

"You haven't begged me to fuck you yet, just to touch you, I can finish my hands work and go to bed." - You said with a smile. Jungkook, who was enjoying your hands, held his breath. Your hands almost made him want to come, but he liked to do it inside you the most. He stopped your hands, and you looked innocently into his eyes. 

"Give me your pussy." - He said, pulling you off the table. You rested your hands on his chest, not letting him turn you around. 

"Beg." - Yours sang. Jungkook was going crazy. His eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, and his hands tightened on your hips. You knew he was about to snap, that any more and he'd just forget about your game and do it his way.

"Baby..." - His voice was low, slightly trembling with tension. He leaned down to your ear, touching his lips to your hot skin. "Please... give me your pussy. Let me sink into you, feel how hot and wet you are for me." - His words, his whisper, his heavy breathing made you tremble. His tongue slid along your neck, his hands went to your waist, and then down to your hips again.

You smiled, stretching out the moment, wanting to hear more.

"More..." - You whispered, running your fingernail along his chin. Jungkook growled, almost tearing forward, but he held on.

"Please..." - He whispered again, his lips leaving hot marks on your skin. His fingers touched your throbbing pussy again, and he ran them gently along it, making you hold your breath. "I want you, baby... I want to be deep inside you..."

You gave up. His words and touch burned you from the inside out, making you need even more. But you were still in control.

"Then take me, Jeon..." - You finally whispered, driving him crazy with those words.

Jungkook couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, bending down and pinning you to the table. His fingers slipped between your legs to make sure you were ready for him.

"So wet... just for me." - His voice sounded like he could already feel you from the inside. He spread your legs wider, his heavy breathing close to your ear. "Ready?" - He pressed his cock against you, making you arch with desire. His hot breath burned your skin, his hands held your hips tightly, making you relax under his touch. "I'm going to take you, baby..."  - He whispered, sliding his cock between your wet folds, but not yet entering. "I have to admit you made me beg, but have you forgotten how this all started? You have to respond for your provocations... I'll make you scream my name." - Just like that, you easily lost your power over them as soon as you allowed yourself to be fucked. You almost moaned at the words. Your body was already aching with desire, you were literally flowing for him, feeling him tease you without giving you what you craved the most.

"Jungkook..." - You groaned, pushing your hips back, hoping he would enter. But he just laughed in satisfaction, grabbed your hair, and gently pulled your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder.

"Hah? You're started begging me, baby, and I didn't even force you." - He said in a low voice, through heavy breathing. You bite your lip, not wanting to answer, but he pushed forward a little harder, his head penetrating you just enough to make your body shiver with anticipation.

"Please..." - You finally gave in, feeling everything inside you clench with anticipation.

"I'm ready to listen to this forever." - His voice was victorious, satisfied. And finally... He entered you with one deep thrust. You exhaled sharply, your back arched as he filled you completely. "Fuck... so tight... it stills so tight for me." - He groaned, pausing for a second to feel your walls clenching around him.

You trembled, resting your hands on the table as he began to move, slowly pulling himself out almost completely and then sinking deep again, making you squirm beneath him.

"Fuck... do you feel that, love?" - He dug his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as his strokes became faster, deeper.

"Yes... God, yes..." - You couldn't control your moans anymore, letting out everything you were feeling. Jungkook grabbed your waist, pulling you harder against him, and his next thrust made you scream.

"Oh, yes, scream for me..." - He growled, driving himself even harder into you. You couldn't think anymore. All that existed at that moment was him, his body, his cock filling you with every thrustz He was everywhere. He was your goddamn universe right now.

His hands held your waist tightly, helping you take each deep thrust. Jungkook moved fast, hard, taking you with the same passion he had begged for you with just moments before.

You clung to the edge of the table, feeling yourself getting closer to an explosion with each stroke. Suddenly, he turned you around, sat you on the edge of the table, and entered you again. You grabbed his shoulders, lightly scratching them with your nails. 

"Fuck, baby, you're still so tight..." - He moaned, bending down slightly to grab your breast and run his tongue over your hardened nipple. Your fingers found his hair, tugging at it, making him curse hoarsely.

"Jungkook... I..."

"Just a little more, baby..." - He lifted one of your legs, changing the angle so that each thrust hit right at your most sensitive spot. You screamed out in pleasure, your body trembling with the unreal pleasure that washed over you in a wave.

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, a few more rough strokes and he moaned your name, spurting deep inside you. His cum spilled filling you up. Jungkook's arms clutched your waist as if he couldn't let go. You were both breathing heavily, enjoying this moment with your bodies still intertwined.

You tried to steady your breathing, trying to come back to reality. Your body was still trembling with the aftertaste of pleasure, but your mind began to clear a little. And then you remembered why you had come here in the first place. Jungkook was smiling lazily as he ran his fingers over your stomach.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you destroyed?" - He asked. You started to move to stand up. You didn't have the strength, but you had come to see Jungkook because you needed to talk to him about the problem you were having. 

"Absolutely." - You smiled tiredly. Jungkook stepped out of you and pulled on his boxers. "But now we really need to do some work." - Jungkook raised an eyebrow as he buttoned his pants. 

"Are you serious? I want to go take a shower and eat." - He complained. But you weren't so relaxed. There was a problem, and that's why you had come to your husband's office. You sighed as you put your feet down on the floor and started looking for your clothes.

You put on your panties, which were lying near the desk, and then quickly put on your skirt. You suddenly felt Jungkook's arms around you as you fumbled with the buttons on your shirt. Jungkook ran his hand down your thighs, lazily drawing invisible patterns on your skin. He kissed your neck. 

"Jungkook, this is important." - You said, turning to him. "Namjoon is waiting for the report, and I can't send it to him." 

Jungkook's gaze turned serious. He stopped his movements around your hips and raised his eyebrows. 

"What happened there?" - He asked tensely. You gingerly released yourself from his arms and went to pick up the tablet that was on the table. Jungkook sat down in his chair and waited for you. You walked over and turned the tablet toward him.

"What is this?" - He asked immediately. 

"Our accountant called me today. He dropped this off to me. These are the financial transactions of our company over the past month that were related to our project." - You explained, pointing to certain records. "As usual, I went through the statements and suddenly noticed that there were small but constant expenses for some intermediary company. At first they looked normal, but..." - You said as you peered in next to Jungkook. 

"But?" - He asked, turning his head to you. You zoomed in on one of the notes.

"She seemed strange to me. I checked out the company. It was founded only a few months ago. And there were no such expenses before. I don't know where it came from or who signed a contract with this company. I definitely didn't have any business with them, because I would have remembered." - You said tensely. Jungkook studied the data carefully.

"Someone is trying to launder money..." - He onfirmed. You nodded. 

"Yes, but the question is who's behind it." - You swiped your finger across the screen, showing another entry. "We need to check all the people involved in the project. But it will take a long time. What should we tell Namjoon?" - You asked, your voice filled with excitement. Jungkook clenched his jaw.

"We need to tell him that the latest uranium shipments are delayed due to customs control and that this needs to be resolved. In the meantime, we'll look for the money launderers. We need to find who is behind this." - Jungkook said.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You had a bad feeling about this. It was as if someone was deliberately creating a problem, and you and Jungkook were caught in the middle of it.

Jungkook was silent. He still held the tablet in his hands, glancing over the documents, but you knew he was already forming a plan in his head. Suddenly, he put the tablet aside and reached out to you.

"Come here." - He grabbed your wrist, inviting you to sit in his arms. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but he was already hugging you gently. His arms wrapped around your waist and his warm breath touched your neck.

"We'll figure it out. I promise." - He said soothingly. You relaxed a little, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I know... I just don't want this problem to go too far." - You worried. 

"It won't." - He patted your back, leaning his head closer to yours. "Now... let's go take a shower. Then we'll have dinner. We need to catch our breath."

"Are you seducing me again?" - You smiled, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. Jungkook laughed softly, leaning down to your lips.

"If it is... so what?" - He kissed you slowly and gently. He pulled away from your lips, and the next moment he was already picking you up, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Hey! I can walk!" - You shouted. 

"I know." - He touched the tip of his nose to yours. "But I like carrying you." - You shook your head, laughing, and he moved toward the bathroom without letting go of you.

A black Mercedes Geletwagen was crossing the city center. You and Jungkook were on their way to Mono Corp. You had to get to the office to take care of some urgent matters. You left the baby with your mom, who had come to visit you and Jungkook that morning. When you got to the penultimate floor of the company, you had to part ways. Jungkook said he'd pick you up in a few hours, after he'd taken care of all his business and you were going home for a family dinner.

Your secretary greeted you with a big smile. She didn't often see you at the workplace, and yet you had to be here. You gave her a few instructions and were about to enter the office when she called you. 

"Y/N-nim. A gift was sent to you yesterday, but I don't know who it was from. I put it on your desk." - You thanked her confusedly and went in office. 

You slowly walked over and threw the bag on the chair. On the smooth surface, among the neatly folded documents, was... a candy. Bright, childish, left by someone purposely. You took the candy in your hands, rolling it between your fingers, but a feeling of wariness did not leave you. You frowned. And next to it was an envelope. White, without any inscriptions. A strange feeling crept inside you, but you picked it up and opened it, hesitating a bit. Inside was a photo.

Your heart skipped a beat for a moment. It was you, standing between two of the most important people from your past, Jungkook and Doohoon.

This photo was taken on the day when both boys won the competition and made the team representing the city. It was one of the happiest moments of your youth. The three of you were best friends then. Your fingers trembled as you looked inside the envelope again.

There was a piece of paper inside. You unfolded it. The black letters, written in a smooth handwriting, screamed danger. 

"You are the cause of his death. You will not live if he is dead."

It was as if something exploded in your head. Your heart was pounding, and my hands were clenched. A chill ran down your spine, and you looked around, as if expecting to see someone in the office.

But it was empty. Only the candy, the photo, and a piece of paper on the table. 

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[erysser]

SIBLING - TEACHER CONFERENCE

-> summary : in which Yuji gets into trouble and Sukuna is forced to deal with it. Fortunately, Yuji's pretty teacher makes it worth it.

-> pairings : ryomen sukuna x reader

-> a/n : big brother Sukuna + modern AU !! No curse AU 💔Both reader and sukuna are in their 20s.

Ring!

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows at the irritating sound, pausing the gory movie in front of him. His fingertips touch the screen, a scoff escaping as the phone continued to buzz, flashing an unknown number.

"Hello?" His bored voice says as he picks up, eyes moving back to the TV.

"Hi, Are you Ryomen Sukuna?"

"Yea?"

"Ah okay! You were listed as an emergency contact for Itadori Yuji. Um... It seems that Yuji has gotten into a bit of trouble today at school. Can you come in and handle this?"

Sukuna scoffs at the statement, rolling his eyes. He sucks his teeth as the words soaked into his mind. Yuji got into trouble? Was he trying to ruin his day off?

"Do I need to?" A stupid question Sukuna knows, but he really hoped that the person on the other side would say no.

"Um... yes?"

great.

"okay. I'll be there soon."

The call ends with a click and Sukuna grumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans back against fhe plump couch. What a way to spend his day off.

☆

Your eyes move from the phone to Itadori who had been sitting in front of you for the last half an hour. It had been 20 minutes since you called his brother. His eyes don't meet yours, gaze firmly on the floor as he grips his pants leg tightly.

He didn't say anything. Shame obviously filling his head as he avoided eye contact. The normal chatter that filled any room he was in was gone. His face battered and bruised from the fight and his knuckles red and purple.

"Your brother is on the way," You repeat ; and he nods, not even looking up. You frown. The boy was almost your age and you felt terrible for him. It wasn't his fault. Yuji was always in trouble yes, but never for things like this... He was defending a classmate, yet he's the one to be punished over winning the fight another person created? It was stupid.

"I'm not mad at you," Your voice barely above a whisper, softness radiating off your tone. His eyes finally tore off his feet. A pang of guilt hitting you as he stared back with reddened eyes that shook rapidly.

He was crying.

"What the hell happened?" A harsh voice interrupts before you could even move to comfort the boy.

Your eyes widen, immediately moving to the door to see a tatted man leaning at the doorway. His gaze moves from his brother to you, eyes softening as he took in your appearance.

It was obvious that Itadori and the man in the doorway were siblings. The light pink hair was a dead giveaway. Yet, the man and Itadori were like the sun and moon.

The soft and caring features of Yuji were nowhere to be found on him, being replaced by a harsh and intimidating gaze that pierced the soul. His defined arms were littered with tattoos, no doubt continuing under his baggy t-shirt.

You feel your face heat up as your eyes lingered on him. Clearing your throat as you turn away, "Um, Yuji here, got into a fight."

Sukuna enters the room, his dark and clunky boots slamming against the wooden floor.

"Did he now?" He asks, pulling up a seat next to you. His tone calm though a hint of annoyance lingered in the air as he spoke. You nod, quickly rambling and explaining what happened to the tatted man.

Sukuna stares at your features as you rambled, eyebrows raised as he listened to your voice. A small smirks plays on his face as he watches your downturn eyebrows. Your concern, worry and care obvious from the way you described Yuji.

You couldn't have been any older than him, perhaps the same age. What was a beautiful person like you doing taking care of teenagers? You should've been going out with friends, chilling, clubbing and yet you reserved yourself to teaching? Sukuna could barely believe it.

"I'm sorry, did you catch what I said?" Your voice interrupts his train of thoughts as your eyes meet. He stares at you with a plain expression, a glint of mischief shining through under the calm guise he wore.

"Yea," He says, leaning back on his chair, looking at Yuji whose ears pinkened under the embarrassment. "This one always cause you trouble, huh?"

"What? No! no he-" You stumble on your words, jumping to defend the boy. Sukuna's eyes crinkle, humoured by your eagerness to defend the boy like he was your own brother.

"It's alright," Sukuna waves off, "Yuji, leave the room. I want to talk to your teacher, privately."

Itadori gives a confused look, staring dumbfounded at his brother who jerked his head towards the door. Hesitantly, he stood up and stepped out, casting a concerned look to you as he shut the door.

The silence echoes around the room and you shiver into yourself under Sukuna's heavy gaze. His eyes linger on you, moving his chair closer.

"I'm so sorry about my brother," He states slowly, not an ounce of remorse in his voice. "I think.. perhaps we should keep in contact just in case he starts any trouble again."

Your eyebrows shoot up at the words. Was he..?

"Excuse me?"

A smug smile creeps onto his face. "I mean, my grandfather is... senile at this point, and I'm the oldest in the family besides him, so.."

You raise your eyebrows at him, unimpressed by his words. You had met Itadori's grandfather before and to call him senile was an insult and a falsehood at its core.

"uhuh..." You hum, crossing your arms

You look him up and down, taking in his whole appearance. He wore a pair of baggy black jeans and a an oversized wrinkly grey t-shirt. His shirts wasn't low cut but you could practically make out the long tattoos that detailed his chiseled neckline.

"I don't know if that's quite professional," You say softly, feigning ignorance. He scoffs.

"Professional? What do you mean? I'm purely doing this for my brother's best interest," His lies coming off as sweet concern as he spoke.

What a liar.

You hold yourself back from rolling your eyes, a smile ghosting your lips. You eyed him for a while, thinking on the best course of action.

The man in front of you was awfully good-looking, it was practically sickening. Yet, he was your student's older brother... was it really the best idea to give him your number?

You frown at thought as he pushes his phone towards you, the empty contact staring at you expectantly.

You sigh, taking the phone into your hand.

☆

Itadori looks up as he hears the door click open. Sukuna's heavy boots click on the ground, a proud smile decorating his face as he stared at his phone. His eyes move to Itadori, gesturing for him to follow him as he walked off towards his car. He shoves his phone into his pockets, head held high as he walked. Itadori scrambles behind him, stumbling as he moves to catch up with his older brother.

"What's up with you? Why are you so happy?" Suspicion laces Itadori's voice, eyes narrowing at the abnormally happy man.

"Can't a man be happy?" Sukuna retorts harshly, rolling his eyes at Itadori. His hand reaches to the younger boys hair, pushing his head down as he ruffles it. Itadori didn't say anything, still eyeing him suspiciously.

Sukuna didn't say anything, his grip tightening on his phone that stored his now prize possession.

Your number.

[sakashq]

Love Drought. jude bellingham x fem!reader

🤍 summary: After his move to Real Madrid, Jude hasn’t been the same loving boyfriend you once had.

🤍 wc: 600+

🤍 warnings: y/n usage. I HATE IT. oh and angst! sorry guys 💕💕💕

🤍 yap! this is based on my current situation i fear 🤦🏾‍♀️🤦🏾‍♀️ i swear this is the last time i’ll bring my ex into my work💔

🤍 my girls <3 EXTRA SPECIAL dedication to @hrts4havertz because she is jude’s wife i fear. and to @ar4ujos @halfwayhearted @iovepoem @joaoflms &&. @planetpedri

Flexibility was always something you were capable of. So when your boyfriend Jude signed a contract for a team in Spain, of course you agreed to make the move for him. You loved the beauty of Spain anyway and ended up residing in the heart of the country. Besides, if things didn’t work out, you would still want to live here. You had made new friends and gotten a better job than the one back in Germany — life was just better in Spain.

Until it came time for him to actually play for the team. With Dortmund, Jude was amazing at balancing both you and his career. But now at this higher-level club, it seemed like he had just pushed you aside and only worried about his new club. It was great that he was focused on making the team proud, but that left zero time for you. Whenever he was home (he was always out with his new teammates), he’d barely acknowledge you and brush things off. Your friends called it the “Madrid curse.” Once signing with the team, they brainwash you. Obviously it was a silly joke, but sometimes it lingered in the back of your mind. Was this club destroying your relationship?

You never brought it up because you didn’t wanna seem selfish. He’s focusing on his career, he’s doing big things! That’s amazing, is it not? If you brought it up, it’d just make you seem like a jealous girlfriend. Even if you kind of were.

It got to the point where dates didn’t happen either. Someone who used to try and take you out once a week now only glanced at you once a week, every other time getting ready for football or hanging out with his new football friends. It was all him, him, him. Never any time for you.

Okay, that’s fine. He’s trying to establish relationships with his new teammates. But what about the relationship he already had? The one with his loving and loyal girlfriend that moved across the continent for him? Why was there no time for her?

For the first time in ages, the two of you were sat on the couch together. You sat away from him, sitting in nothing but silence. He looked over at you, raising a brow.

“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“Nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t seem too fine. Talk to me,” he responded, his body now turned and facing you.

You stared blankly at him, unsure if you really wanted to talk to him right now. You sighed, deciding communication was probably needed in this situation. “You barely have time for me anymore. I get it, you’ve joined a new club and you need to bond with your teammates. But do you really need to every night?”

He looked at you, almost as if he was going to laugh. “So you’re jealous of Vini, Aurélien, and Eduardo is what I’m hearing?”

“Jude, I’m being serious.” You looked at him, your face and body language very solemn.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, hear me out. You get ready, dress and wear whatever you want however you want and I take you wherever you wanna go.”

You frowned saying, “You don’t get it. Weeks of craving your attention, and you think it’ll just be resolved by one date. It’s just gonna go back to the way it was afterwards.”

“Well what do you want me to do, Y/n? I’m trying here,” his voice raised a little, startling you. “I can’t make time for Madrid and you.”

Your face dropped, your heart going with it. If you weren’t upset then, you definitely were now. What did he mean by that? “So you could with Dortmund but you can’t now because it’s a slightly bigger club? You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“It’s a lot more draining with Madrid, Y/n. You don’t get it,” he shrugged.

“No, I get it. It’s fine, do what you wanna do. You’re gonna realize how good you had it when it’s gone.” You got up from the couch, grabbing your car keys off the coffee table and heading for the door.

Jude got up, ready to chase after you immediately. “Y/n, come on, we can talk about this. Y/n.”

You opened the door, shutting it behind you. Jude followed not too long after.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. Okay, that was a dickhead move. But you leaving doesn’t solve the problem,” he told you. He had a point, sure, but you were mad at him. No way he was gonna win. He was just worried about whether or not you’d be coming back. He loved you dearly, even if he wasn’t currently showing. You leaving upset with him destroyed him. The thought of something happening to you while you were still mad at him paralysed him. He didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself if something happened.

“Okay, what?” You turned around.

“Come back inside,” he pleaded, his brown eyes begging with him.

Not giving in to his pleas you replied, “No. I can’t get a conversation with you and now you wanna talk. I’m done trying.”

“I know, I know, I fucked up. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just… saying stuff. I don’t want to lose you.” Your heart broke seeing his face, shattering into a million different pieces. Maybe he really wanted to try, or maybe this was just a manipulative move to get you to stay. Either way, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Please just talk to me.”

You sighed, not responding but walking back over to him. And after a lengthy conversation, everything was okay again. It wasn’t like how it was before, but things were starting to look up. You two agreed to communicate more and take days off just to spend it with each other. After all this, it ended right where it started— the two of you sitting on the coach together, this time with you in his arms.

[1920sladydectective]

Okay but… first of all I LOVE your writing. It’s amazing and I’m so hyped for the miniseries!! (Please tag me if possible 💖)

Would you ever write for a reader who is very good friends with Mel (maybe college or coworkers or just generally friends) and when she meets Ambessa she just has the biggest crush?? The forbidden-smut-overall tension would send me 💔

Hello sweetpea,

Thank you for all your support, you're a star. Here is part one of this University friend sex AU situation. I will be writing more and it will be an angsty, smut to love tension fest, for now this is the silly set up and initial sex. I hope you like! 4.2K, not proofread.

Ambessa is kinder here, as in modern worlds she couldn't be a warlord to me and I fancied making her a more playful, enticing woman like she can be in canon. She's still a bad parent but less so I guess?

I'm British and was picking Saltburn half the time lol

Writing slowed as my assignments killed me, hoping to get back to it without burning myself out

xoxo

WARNINGS: Drug use, Alcohol Use, Age Gap Sex, Best Friend's Mum sex, degradation and praise, silly uni kids being uni kids.

Mel’s offer to spend the summer at her childhood home was a blessing. With your mother gone and your father on an oil rig, you were not looking forward to spending summer alone in your hometown. 

This was a little much however. She’d called it a bit over dramatic as you pulled onto a private road, but driving up you saw a stately manor with its own forest surrounding it. You called that rich as fucking shit. It loomed over its surroundings and if Mel was to be believed, its owner was much the same. 

You knew Mel had money, though she was a generous and likeable person who was very open about it, she reeked of it without her open disclosures. The sleek Land Rover you had road tripped in was another obvious case, spacious for two and perfect for endless roads of Katy Perry blasting. 

Somehow, despite the excitement, you knew staying here was going to have its troubles. Even if it was as small as getting lost on the way to the bathroom. 

Mel’s mother was another thing to be tense about. She was exacting and harsh and apparently devoid of all love. Despite this Mel was happy to return home for the ten week summer, perhaps because she had you as a shield. 

A man, a Butler, by the name of Rictus came out to greet you and collect your things, taking them to your respective rooms as Mel dragged you along on a half hearted, sarcastic tour. Her entryway was larger than your flat and it made you snort. Paintings worth more than you were fucking everywhere and of course she had a huge, regal looking cat. 

“Mina is very aggressive,” Mel muttered, “I think it’s the only reason Mother tolerates her,” 

“Hello Mina, I shall give you your space,” You said calmly, the ornate ball of fur screeching at you and running away. 

Her departure heralded the matriarch, and Mel’s face stilled. 

“Mel, my darling,” Her voice was amused, her stature and look mesmerising as she emerged from a side room, “I would have come to greet you had I known it was this afternoon you’d be arriving,”

“You did know,” Mel scoffed into her mother’s sudden and short hug, before rolling her eyes in your direction. 

“And you must be Mel’s little friend, come to stay,” 

“She has a name,”

You did and it stumbled out of your lips, an unsure smile on your face. Why did Mel’s mum have to be the hottest woman you had literally ever seen? “Thank you for having me, Mrs Medarda,” 

“The pleasure’s mine, Dear,” Her sharp focus was solely on you and you felt suddenly very breakable, “I do hope you enjoy our hospitality,” 

Mel gripped your arm, dragging you away with platitudes to her mother about seeing her at dinner. Once you’d made it to her (ridiculous, opulent, crazy) bedroom, she let out a huff. 

“I’m sorry about her, she isn’t around a lot so we won’t have to worry about it too often,”

“It’s okay,” Your voice was calming, giving your friend a winning smile, “Anything beats an empty flat and working in a coffee shop,” 

You began to regret that reassurance once you sat opposite Mel eating a bowl of french onion soup. It felt like you were intruding on a private moment, jabs and quips hidden behind flowery words as the Medarda women tore each other to shreds. It was the first time you’d seen Mel on the back foot. 

Rictus seemed used to it, serving food and sorting through the house as their voices rose. You learned this was his last day before a long holiday and clearly he had decided it was not worth pitching in his opinions when Mel or Ambessa asked for them.

Instead, Ambessa drew you into the conversation against her daughter's wishes, tugging opinions from you about food and schooling and her house. Each one seemed to widen her smirk, golden orbs fixed on you. She felt warm, inviting to you, in the way a lion would. Majestic but deadly. Fatigued and stuck in a power struggle, you ate tiramisu in silence. Then Ambessa mentioned the party. 

“Mother really,” Mel groaned, “Must you?”

“Must I have my annual summer party in my own house? Same as I do every year?” She scoffed, fixing her with a colder stare. 

“I-I don’t know, could be fun,” It was clear in Mel’s eyes you were a traitor, though she wished to appease both friend and host. 

“Exactly, thank you dear,” Her warm smile shone on you again, “and you girls can help me,” 

“Of course,” Mel rolled her eyes, seemed you’d laid your bed and she would make you lie in it, “She especially would love that, she has an eye for culinary arts,”

What a lie. You burnt water. Ambessa didn’t seem to notice or care. 

Several days passed like this, basking in the sun, swimming in the pool and being the unintentional deciding vote in Medarda madness. Kino, Mel’s brother, seemed to usually fill that role and favoured Mel constantly. You, however, were a more even bet and that seemed to delight Ambessa. Mel was right about the ridiculously large orchestra, Ambessa’s view on the food timings made more sense. This went on and on for the first two weeks as you settled into a routine. Ambessa seemed to be around constantly, far more than Mel was used to and Kino would not return until the night of the party. Everything seemed to be balancing as well as it could until the day the party arrived and you realised with a resounding slap to the soul that you had a crush on Ambessa Medarda. 

It was fucked. You knew that. She was your friend’s mum and a scary, mysterious woman to boot. But she was also light and funny and beautiful. She made you feel special and considered and opened her home to you, lavishing you in a luxury you had never known. Sometimes it felt personal, like her eyes lingered to spark heat on your skin. Her hands would brush yours as she passed a plate at the table, she would leave tea for you on the kitchen island as you always rose just after her. It was maddening and probably in your head. 

This dreadful, eye opening doomed, morning started with Mina the cat. Fruit tea firmly in your grasp, you made your way to the library. Instead of finding it empty, you heard Ambessa’s velvet tone, eyes catching the back of her as she stroked the bundle of evil fluff. 

“Now, my little demon,” Ambessa muttered, “You have mutilated my favourite scarf and for that you shall suffer, how do you plead?”

Mina growled, nibbling on her long, strong, beautiful- nibbling on her fingers. 

“I see, into the fire you go,” She muttered, faking a throw into the cold, ash coated harth as Mina skipped off under the bookshelves instead, “On the lam? I should have guessed,”

Your little snort travelled, her eyes snapping to meet yours as she raised an eyebrow. Whoops fuck. 

“Another criminal in our midst,” She smiled, teeth glinting, “Though I’d say you’re less slippery, darling,” 

Darling. Fuck. You were doomed. 

It was then that the realisation had hit, and molten fear and excitement curdled in your stomach. She was muttering about how you could help her with party preparations, words smoothing over you like gentle waves as you nodded. Somehow you were in the kitchen again, in an apron more expensive than your car cutting carrots and listening to her hum Frank Sinatra of all things. 

Mel didn’t come down until well past noon, obviously intentional on her part as you popped the last of the prepped food in the multitude of fridges. The rest was being done by caterers, but Ambessa had had you prepare her staples for the one hundred and fifty guests. You wondered how they’d all fit, but it was a stupid thought. She could have had thousands here with little trouble. 

“Somebody has been a little Angel,” Ambessa said, voice light as she locked eyes with you, “and it isn’t you, Mel,” 

“Spare me,” She sighed, eating a cereal bar, “Has she broken your spirit yet?”

“Can’t break what I haven’t got,” You quipped, looking away from the older Medarda with burning cheeks. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” It was quiet, blink and you’d miss it, but Ambessa had definitely muttered that in your ear as she wandered through to answer a call from the decorators. 

Mel grinned, grabbing your hand, “We need to go and get ready, buy lunch out and get space before we’re swallowed whole by mum’s elitist world,”

You followed after her to the car, not having the heart to mention she was firmly one of those elitists herself. 

When you returned, nails and hair freshly styled upon Mel’s insistence, there was a red Bently in the drive. Your friend practically threw herself out of the car, hip bashing on the door as she ran inside. 

You were met with a tender reunion, brother and sister rambling over each other as Ambessa leaned against the doorframe with a grin, her eyes caught yours for a moment before she embraced her two children. 

Slipping away, you gave them their space as you rifled through your clothes and hung up your dress. It was pretty, it would suit you and it was now the nicest thing you owned. Guests would be arriving in an hour and you used the lull to enjoy your own thoughts, makeup applied with deft hands.

Knowing what you knew about your feelings, it would have been wise to prepare yourself for the sight of an even more fancy Ambessa. You didn’t and so naturally you nearly died. It simply wasn’t right, how ethereal she was. You licked your lips, heart smashing against your ribs as you came to rest at the entrance. Like a line of prize animals, Ambessa had lined up her children and it seemed from her waving hand, you were to participate in this presentation. Kino was all crinkles and kind laughs, instantly making him likeable. Somehow, he still stayed your third favourite Medarda, and it felt like a betrayal to debate who held the first spot whilst the daughter held your hand playfully and the mother’s eyes ran over your exposed legs. 

Bollocks. 

The greeting system felt archaic and yet entirely Medarda. This was the upper echelons and you were a pretty little ornament of the working class to be questioned and nodded at patronisingly. Ambessa had smiled in her swirling red wine several times at orange housewives’ pitying glances as you mentioned your plans to work after university. God forbid. It took an hour and a half for people to trickle in, all seemingly knowing your name as apparently it had been included in the hosts section of the invitation. Mel was best at schmoozing, leaving you and Kino to trade glances and giggle at each other. 

There was little to be done after that, with every Medarda’s attention divided as you floated in the background, having insanely good food and drinking enough to kill a horse. When the condescension became too much you retreated to the empty games room, finding an equally reclusive Mina. It seemed that today for whatever reason she was willing to tolerate you, stealing nibbles of your salt and vinegar crisps as you sat curled in the glow of the fairy lights. It was odd to rest in a beanbag that wasn’t lumpy and ripping at the seams, the leather supporting you perfectly 

“Enjoying the party?” Sweet silk asked, wrists melodic with bangles. 

“Yes Ambessa, of course,” You rushed out, “It really is marvellous,” 

“Don’t lie, child,” She says with a snort, joining you on an opposite beanbag, “They’re a bunch of shits and yet they give me lots of money, so here they sit rotting away the soul of my house every summer,” 

It felt rich coming from her and yet you nodded like you understood. Her hand moved in a sweeping arch, a thickly packed joint suddenly appearing in your eyeline. 

“Let’s make it more fun, shall we?” 

You laughed, loud and unbidden. You were going to smoke with Ambessa Medarda. There was no way in hell you would say no, whether it was a trap or not. An unnecessarily fancy gold lighter lit the end as she sucked it between those plump crimson lips, leaving a pretty ring for your own to rest upon. It felt seductive, how your lips caressed where hers had laid, your own tinging a slight pink as you passed it back and forth. 

This was some quality shit, even you knew that. It was easy to tell because it was blowing your fucking socks off. Everything swam in a pleasant buzz, as she murmured tale after stupid tale about the party’s attendees until you were howling with laughter, tears leaking out of your eyes. 

Ambessa liked you like this, unbidden and open as you basked in your amusement and relaxation. If she had known seeing you like this would be easy, she would have offered you drugs your first day. When she said as much, her tongue a little looser, you giggled again as you finished the joint. 

You were useless after that. She wore it better, all it did was make her calmer, tone more sultry. You were in awe of her, and Mina clearly didn’t care for your harsh tugs as you hung on her every word. 

Mel found you forty minutes later, higher than the empire state building with a plate piled high with goodies for you and Ambessa to share. 

“Fuck off,” Mel growled, eyes widening at her mother’s easy smile, “You’ve left me alone to host so you can soak my friend in drugs?”

“I soaked too, Mel, I’m not mad,” 

You giggled, half choking on a brioche stuffed with lobster. Mel silenced you as you inhaled an olive. 

“You could handle it, Dear,” Ambessa said affectionately, “You always were my little social butterfly,” 

“I thought I was a fox,” Mel snapped, “You look less like a wolf and more like a malfunctioning hyena,” 

That set you off again, your hand covered your mouth as your shoulders shook. This seemed to be the final straw for Ambessa as she fell into giggles too. 

“I-” A loud huff, “Damn you both, I hate you,” 

Mel stormed out, leaving you behind to recover from your mindless adventure. It took another hour, evening beginning to beckon, before you were coherent. 

“What a nice little break that was,” Ambessa said, body overly close to yours, “But dinner is looming and my daughter is unfortunately right, I must host,”

The rest of the party was spectacular in your eyes. Kino found you, half sobered up, and dragged you into beer pong with his friends. It was clear this was less approved by the hidden nature of the location, wrapped in the hedge mazes. That seemed a disaster, drunk kids in their twenties stuck in a maze, but it was so fun you hardly cared. Mel was looser too, her friend Jayce and Viktor had popped by, opening her up like a hesitant flower. 

“I hope Mum wasn’t awful,” Mel muttered as she cuddled into your side on a bench in the maze, “You seemed quite chummy,” 

“I-I know she isn’t always good to you, Mel,” You muttered, lust and infatuation receding slightly as you gazed at your friend, “I’m sorry if I upset you by hanging out with her,” 

Mel paused, flicking a leaf off her skirt as she snuggled deeper into you, “I’m quite glad actually, it’s made her more tolerable, and despite her faults, she can be fun” 

Your eyebrows rose, surprised at the admission. Their relationship was strained, but seemed in a drunken haze that was easier to process. 

Dinner, the actual sit down portion in the huge marquee, was exquisite. You were on the head table, nestled between Mel and Kino as everyone laughed. The amount of odd, worship dances that happened around Ambessa was unnerving, but her still relaxed shoulders made you snort. 

As the party continued and the sky was painted a deep red, Mel tugged you into an aggressive dance than had you toppling and rolling down the large hill, grass stains staining your clothes. 

What a great summer. Even if you did want to fuck her mum. Shut Up. 

The next morning you were less elated. You had no memory of getting into bed, though you were half in your covers with water on your bedside table. Whispers echoed, too far to reach, a tender kiss to your temple. 

The culprit was rather obvious once you stumbled into your bathroom with a yawn. Sharp, clear red lips rested against your skin as they had the joint, making your heart flutter. Hesitant fingers grazed it, matte colour coming off on your fingers as an echo refined in your memory.

“Sweet dreams, Pretty girl,”

You scrubbed it away reluctantly, stomach swimming. 

The entire grounds were pristine, cleaners having come in as people left in droves in the early morning. It was now late afternoon, the sun well past its warmth peak for the day as you forced down a salad and some bread. Health, greenery, water. These demands your body cried bitterly, who knew weed and wine was bad for you?

Mel and Kino were in a similar way, becoming one with the sofa as friends played bleakly on a screen that blew out the quality in a ridiculous way. You curled under Mel’s arm, yawning. 

“She lives,” Kino mutters, flicking your ear, “You did a backflip off the pong table, or at least tried to,” 

Mel started to laugh, nodding at your baffled expression, “Mum caught you and send us all to bed like naughty teenagers,” 

“Really?” 

“No,” Kino scoffed, “She called you a half brained twat and took you to bed,”

“Fantastic,” You groaned, there went your chances, not that they’d ever really existed, “Where is she? I need to apologise,” 

“Away, work trip for four days,” Mel nibbled against a pretzel, the salt soothing, “She said no parties whilst she’s gone, hypocrite,”

There was a party and your behaviour was infinitely worse, almost ridiculously so. 

Mel and Kino’s friends were eclectic, a mixture of posh and poor that mingled like oil and water yet it seemed to work. A blue and pink haired couple tried to eat each other’s faces as Kino did obnoxious tricks into the pool. Vile, candy flavoured vodka mixed with champagne blurred everyone’s vision as you suddenly felt like a reckless teenager. You’d never had this phase and now you were living it in a random manor house in the Surrey outskirts. 

Still, as the hours ticked by you missed her murmurs to Mina, your morning tea being prepared and her knowing, conspiring glances across at you. You missed the burn of your skin as she entered a room, her spiced and strong smell. You missed her. 

When Ambessa returned, she did not seem to suspect anything, weathered from business and silent throughout dinner. You tried to prompt some amusement, though all she gave you was an arched brow or eye roll. Though she joined in on movie night, she curled up alone on a chair with Mina, reading through documents as she went. 

Hours later, wrapped in Egyptian cotton, you felt restless. There was nothing to do but shake the energy out. Ambessa lingered in your thoughts. Perhaps she was angrier about your acrobatics attempts that you’d prepared for, or had grown bored of your overly sarcastic, childish antics. You yearned for her, crush firmly cemented like a rough pebble in your stomach, slamming down as a reminder with each movement you took. 

Your multifaceted hunger led you to the pretty kitchen, the whole house still as you tiptoed in. 

Or so you’d thought. 

Ambessa stood, swaying slightly with a glass of wine in her hand. She looked different like this, undone from nonsense as she fell away to reveal the sharp mind beneath. 

“Just going to stand there, little one?” 

You gulped, “I’m sorry to bother you,” 

“Now, when did I say that?”

“You didn’t,” You conceded with a nervous grin, “I just didn’t realise anyone was awake,” 

Her gaze fixed on you fully then, golden swirls captivating, “What did you need?”

“Food,” You blurt, “Was just going to grab some crisps or something,” 

She moved into motion at once, flickering on the hob light, “I’ll make you something,” 

You shook your head, stumbling platitudes about her kindness and your ability to sort something. 

“For god sake, girl,” She huffed, tone amused, “Let me do as I please in my own home,” 

That shut you up, her hips moving side to side as she assembled various things. The lull you had created did not last for long, she seemed far more talkative than hours earlier. 

“There is one thing I have yet to tell my children,” A spoon smashed against porcelain, “I had the house fitted with cameras just before you all came home,”

Cameras, that was a safe investment. You were honestly surprised she didn’t have them befor- The fucking party. 

Another nervous laugh leaked out, “I-I see,” 

“I’m not cross with you, Dear,” A glug of oil, a crunch of pepper, “Or them, really. I am not an idiot, though it did reaffirm one thing,” 

“What’s that?” Your heart was hammering into your lungs, making your voice oddly airy. 

“You haven’t got any common sense,” She snorted, sliding a glass of wine your way, “Backflipping off of my pingpong table and then swimming paralytic two days later,” 

You blushed, taking a small sip, as you nodded, “My mother used to say my head wasn’t on right,” 

Ambessa nodded, eyes taking on a dark glint as she turned back to the bowl of marinade, “Then do allow me to screw it back on for you,”

It felt weirdly erotic coming from her, your stomach tensing, your blood boiling. The pan was put away again. What the fuck was she making you?

She appeared in front of you, “Here, eat your food before it goes sour,” 

There was nothing in her hands, you didn’t understand. 

Her once bare lips now glistened slightly with spices, smirked fixed on her face, “Come along, wouldn’t want to upset your hostess when she’s gone to so much effort,”

Warm, firm lips met yours as you felt every sense turn into a white, blank nothingness. She’d offered herself as a meal and you ate like a woman starved. Each lick was salty and hot, her taste mingling with the chili oil until it was only her, blissfully her. Her hands were rough and assured, tugging open your shirt till all the buttons popped off. You needed her, all your worries melting against her tongue as she groped against your chest. 

“You just need some instruction,” Her ragged voice purred, “Someone to obey,” 

You felt yourself gush, eyes fluttering as you nodded pathetically against her. 

Ambessa’s tongue against your nipple had you mewling, body twitching as she shushed you. You didn’t want to be loud, lest she stop, but gods was it hard when she twirled your nipple over calloused fingers. She had you shivering, trembling and gasping within minutes, eyes glazed as your wildest sex fantasies were smashed down in rating by the real fucking deal. 

Her words were ambrosia, drenching you in joy as she called you some of the most disgusting things you’d heard perhaps ever. 

Being fucked against a kitchen island by your friend’s mum hadn’t been in your summer bucket list and yet here you were. Her fingers were wicked, ruining you as she suffocated your moans with her free palm. You had already leaked onto yourself and the floor, but it wasn’t enough for her. 

“Good girl, taking me so well,” She muttered, “You can’t resist it, can you? Slave to your own cunt,” 

Your reply made no sense, and she laughed against your neck, nibbling and lapping at the bead of sweat there. Your thoughts meant nothing, she was right, you were truly a slave to your physical self. By the time she had you squirting against her palm, you would have mindlessly walked over hot coals for her, cumming all the while. 

Her cunt, perfect and warm, crushed your face as she managed to sit atop you on the island. It was the sort of core memory you didn’t expect to make, your practiced tongue working in overdrive to please the goddess above you. 

Her whines and grunts were delicious, as was her dripping wetness, as she tugged your hair with a selfish, possessive vice grip. Her orgasm ripped through her, her back arching as you managed to twist her nipples in return for her earlier fondling, her eyes rolling. 

Slipping off of you with a grin, she tossed you a damp cloth and wiped herself down. 

“Sweet girl,” She slurred in your ear, placing a kiss there, “Knew you’d been a fun toy,” 

It would have made your cunt flutter, it would have forced you into a passionate and sweaty round two as you lose your mind to pleasure again, if it weren’t for the fact that you actually sort of really, very seriously liked it. 

But you? You were just a long line of sweet little fucks and you’d betrayed her daughter to join the notch on her bedpost. 

Fucked. Doomed. Shattered.

[hannie-dul-set]

나비 / NABI — ONE.

SYNOPSIS. in which you’re trying your damned best to willfully ignore your feelings for your friend of over twenty years, but— as always— life seems to have a different plan paved out for you.

PAIRING. choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRE. childhood friends to not quite friends (derogatory) to not quite friends (endearment) to lovers, romance, humor, hurt/comfort but more on comfort, coming of age, slowburn, college! au, “it’s always been you” trope, pining, tons of denial, beomgyu is the only man ever, featuring a large ensemble of idols from various groups. WARNINGS. swearing, explicit language, alcohol consumption, rumors as a plot device, mentions of sex, a few minor injuries. WORD COUNT. 9k (out of 40k).

NOTE. hehe...it’s here. this first part is a little short and slow, but things are gonna start picking up from here! please let me know what you think so far 😭😭 half my soul was injected into writing the entirety of this i will never be the same again 💔 also, i recommend listening to beomgyu’s covers while reading this and the upcoming chapters HAHA anyhow, please enjoy!

모기 / MOGI — ONE — TWO — THREE

YOU STILL DON’T LIKE CHOI BEOMGYU. Ever since you and he reconciled and publicly became friends again, your life has never known quiet— all thanks to the countless insects constantly buzzing around him, and by consequence around you, every damn day. And it’s not like you can keep avoiding him. Choi Beomgyu has made the executive decision to take advantage of the guilt you’ve been feeling, so for the past month, you’ve been a slave to his whims. 

Responding to 3AM ice cream runs even though you’re swamped with assignments. Going to parties hosted by people you don’t know the fucking names of because he keeps calling you a boring loser. And, the cherry on top, having to deal with Lee Heeseung’s even more annoying presence, just like how you’d predicted he’d behave if he ever finds out you and Beomgyu are friends.

Which he did. Much to your despair and agony.

“Beomgyu, your girlfriend’s here to see you.”

Case in point. You spare him nothing but an eye roll when he lets you in the clubroom of the, ahem, coding club. You’re here because Beomgyu texted you to fetch him a matcha latte and since you’re playing as his slave at the moment (and until your patience runs out), you obliged out of the kindness of your heart, only to get a truckload of teasing in return.

“Oh, hey, what’s up,” Yeonjun throws you a peace sign from their worn out sofa by the door the moment you enter. He’s accompanied by a good number of chip bags on the cushions.

“Hey,” Hanbin greets you as well when you pass by their alleged meeting table. Which, by the way, has stacks of leftover takeout containers and some empty, some half-empty plastic jugs of water. “Beomgyu is on the computer.”

“Thanks,” you tell him. This clubroom is a fucking gremlin hole.

“You know what.” Your path towards Choi Beomgyu is interrupted by Hyunjin, suddenly popping out of the half-wall separating the lounge area from the computers at the back. You jump, because what the fuck? “My heart races everytime you come here. I still get flashbacks from the day you threatened to wreck our safe haven. I think you gave me PTSD.”

Ah, yes. That day. That was eventful. It was the first time you’ve seen Choi Beomgyu cry.

“Serves you right, gossip snorter,” you say. “Out of the way, I have business to deal with.”

Hyunjin indeed gets out of your way, and there he reveals a row of four computers lined up against the wall with their assigned nerds mashing on the keyboards and yelling profanities at matching game screens. You zero in on the one on the far left corner. Surprisingly, Beomgyu is relatively calm compared to the others. You tap on his shoulder. He turns his head around.

“Oh,” he says, pulling his office chair back from out of the desk with a swivel while removing the headphones from his ears and letting them rest around his neck. You notice Jeongin seated beside him, who looks up at you only for a moment only to flinch back to the screen. “You’re here?”

No, shit. You jangle the latte in front of his face, head cocked, and he reaches out for it. But then you quickly jerk back your hand before he can snatch it from you. “Nuh-uh. Pay up.”

“Tch,” Beomgyu clicks his tongue and shoots you a bitter look. “Hyung, can you toss me my jacket?”

Someone from behind does indeed toss him his jacket, and at that very moment as well, Heeseung decides that it’s a great time to indulge in his newly founded hobby. “Hey, how about me? Why didn’t you get me a drink?” He joins the already crowded crevice in the back and swings an arm around your shoulder. “You get a boyfriend and forget all your friends. Have you forgotten that you two got together because of me? I’m hurt, I’m so hurt.”

Your face scrunches up. “Literally, how many times do I have to tell you he’s not my boyfriend.” You elbow Heeseung off, eliciting another whine from him. When your eyes snap back at Beomgyu, you see that he’s preoccupied with going through wallet. You kick his chair. “Say something, dipshit.”

Beomgyu hands you a bill and exchanges it with the matcha latte. You wait for him to speak. He takes a long sip, pulls his face away from the straw with a grimace, hands back the drink to you, then says, “What she said.”

You look at him, drink now back in your hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Keep it,” he says, putting his headphones back on. “Don’t you have class?”

Your jaw clenches. Fucker made you run an errand for nothing. He gives you an asshat smile of goodbye then spins his chair back to his computer. You scoff and smack the back of his head, causing his headphones to slip off. “Bye.”

“Hey!”

“Later,” Heeseung bids you off, and it’s followed by a chorus of goodbyes from the inhabitants of the testosterone infested, stinky gamer cave. Seriously, every time you drop by here, you feel an ounce of your soul shriveling up and rotting away. Yeonjun very politely opens the door for you. You hear one of them yell out before you leave.

“Come over tomorrow. Hanbin hyung’s treating us to pizza!”

And with that, you’re finally free, matcha latte in hand and a desire to breathe in some fresh air because you’re pretty sure the air is polluted in there. But still. It’s been a lot easier to breathe recently than when you two weren’t on good terms.

“Saved you a seat.”

You make it to class two minutes before the schedule. Minjeong proudly taps on the seat next to her, and you take the invitation. “As you should,” you hum, taking out your notes from your bag, and not long after Sungchan arrives and lands on the spot next to you.

It’s the week before finals. Prof Shin starts the class and decides to fuck all of your study schedules by giving a last minute assignment due next week as well. 

“Does this guy want to give us depression before the summer or some shit?” Minjeong complains the moment your professor leaves the lecture hall.“I swear to god, if another prof gives us an assignment due over the break, I’m killing myself.”

“You two have plans over the break?” asks Sungchan, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and the three of you head out for lunch, funneling out into the hallway along with the rest of your blockmates.

“I’m going home,” says Minjeong.

“I have summer classes,” you answer.

Sungchan stops in his tracks. “You serious?” 

“Yup.”

“You bet on it.”

He looks at the both of you like you’re a bunch of withering old ladies and he’s very much unimpressed. “Make some time for the last week. I’m throwing the wildest summer rager and you two can’t miss it.”

You’re pretty sure you replied with something along the lines of an agreement, but you’re not quite sure. The thought completely slips out of your head throughout the next week because, well, finals. And before you know it, your first semester of uni comes to a close, and summer comes crashing in at full swing.

#1: YOU STILL DON’T LIKE HIM FOR WASTING SO MUCH OF YOUR TIME. It’s eight in the morning. Monday. You’re standing in front of Choi Beomgyu’s door.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s the start of your summer semester so you thought you ought to make something healthy just to kick things off on a good note, but as you were scavenging ingredients for fried rice, you realized you were out of salt so that’s why you’re here. You knock on his door again, three times, and you manage to finish watching five more Instagram reel clips before Beomgyu finally answers the door.

Creak.

“Took you long eno—”

You’re caught off guard by the mop of shaggy hair greeting you, clearly having just woken up. His eyebrows are knitted together while he lets out a yawn. He’s in a tank top. It rides up a little when he stretches his arm to reach for an itch on his back.

“What?” he rasps with a grunt, squinting at you after he’s finally settled himself into reality. “Why the hell are you up so early?”

You clear your throat. “Got any salt?”

Beomgyu blinks at you, processing your words. Then he steps back, points a thumb towards his kitchen, and nudges his head in the same direction. “Go crazy.”

With that, Beomgyu lets you monopolize his kitchen cupboards while he flops onto the sofa. You laugh seeing him practically melt into the cushions. He’s never been a morning person. You’re pretty sure he fell asleep like three hours ago.

“I’m gonna steal some of your chives too,” you inform. Beomgyu makes a muffled noise that you assume is a yes, so you go ahead and take the liberty. When you pop out of his kitchen area, you see him in a not very spine-healthy posture on the same sofa while scrolling through his phone. “I’ll drop off some bokkeumbap later.”

Beomgyu’s eyes flit up from his phone and he wiggles into a more normal position. “Do you have plans today?”

“Class,” you answer on your way back out.

“It’s summer?” he says. “Did your dumb ass get your calendars mixed up?”

You roll your eyes, stopping right before the door with your hand on the knob and turn your head to face him. “I thought I could use the early credits so I won’t have to take too many classes in my fourth year. So I could focus on my internship and all.”

There’s a pause. You can see the three dots slowly appearing in succession above Beomgyu’s bedhead. “Oh,” he says. There’s a drop in his voice. Only for a second. “Well, have fun, nerd.”

You stick your tongue out and leave his apartment with your borrowed goods, returning once more after you’ve finished cooking to give him a portion. Honestly, without the food your moms send over, you’re pretty sure he’d be living exclusively off of takeout.

Anyhow, you head to campus for your first summer lecture, and— for the first time god knows how long— your entire day is spent with a lingering, and almost unusual echo of quiet.

“That’s it for our syllabus. We’ll be starting our full swing of classes next week. See you.”

When you exit the lecture hall, the hallway is near empty. The courtyard too, with only a few students littered about underneath the midday sun. It’s so quiet, it’s weird. Around this time, you’d usually be having lunch with Sungchan and Minjeong, sometimes Beomgyu, sometimes Heeseung, but that brat’s not around right now either because he’s on vacation. 

Not having anything to do, you decide to stop by the campus cafe— Horangnabi. You don’t go here often, committed to the shop near your apartment because, well, it’s more convenient for your morning coffees, but you weren’t able to grab one earlier since you cooked breakfast. Might as well get a latte before you leave campus.

“Hi, welcome!”

You’re greeted by the barista, and like most of campus, it’s pretty empty inside as well. "A spanish latte, please. Iced.” While making your order, a sign on the counter catches your eye.

Part-timers, now hiring. You blink, letting it settle for a moment. Maybe for too long of a moment, because the whir of the milk frother snaps back your attention. 

“Are you interested?” 

The barista slides you your drink over the counter with a smile. You take it and press your lips together in a moment of thought. 

You only have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and it’s too inconvenient, not to mention expensive to go home, back and forth from Seoul to Daegu and vice versa, on the days in between. Most of your friends are on vacation or went back to their hometowns over the break so you have no one to hang out with over the summer. And you could use the extra money.

“I don’t have any experience, though,” you tell her.

“That’s fine. You’ll get a few days of training,” she answers.

Tempting. You’re almost convinced. “What if I just want to work for the summer? Can I quit when the next semester starts?”

“A lot of students do that,” she hums. You see her take a square of tissue paper from the display, jotting down a series of numbers before sliding it over to you as well. “Julie. Call me if you wanna take the bait.”

You spare one more second to ponder. Then you take the number from under her fingers and carefully stuff it into your pocket. “Thanks.”

The heat has finally settled the moment you exit the cafe, a little bell jingle trailing you from behind, and you take a mental note to bring an umbrella with you from this day forward. Their coffee is good, you have to admit. If you work there for a good month or two, maybe you’d even end up saving cash by making your own drinks instead of having to buy them.

You decide to take the path through the parking lot to make your exit. There’s more trees around, meaning more shade because it’s really freaking hot. It’s very bare in the lot. You pass by a few cars, of which you assume belong to faculty and staff, until one of them honks at you, and you flinch to a halt.

Another honk. Your brows furrow. Looking around, you try to find the culprit, but you end up moving your head in just the right direction for the sun to beam its light directly into your eyes, blinding you temporarily, and you wince. God damn it. You hear another honk again, and you feel yourself start to get irritated. It’s coming from behind you. You spin your heels, vision still muddy from the direct sun attack, but nevertheless you start walking.

“Seriously, who the hell keeps fucking— oh!”

You bump into someone. You feel them balance you by your shoulders.

“You should’ve seen how dumb you looked.” You hear a snicker. Of fucking course, it’s Choi Beomgyu. Who else would it be? “But hey, you make a pretty good pigeon jerking your head around like that.”

“Fuck you,” you jab his arms off. “What are you even doing here?”

Beomgyu notices your coffee and takes a shameless sip from it before answering, “Get in the car. It’s so freaking hot out, jesus.” 

You don’t really have a choice because he practically shoves you into the passenger’s seat. So gentle. You nearly spill your drink all over when your ass lands on the leather cushion. 

“I was just about to sleep again after you dropped off the food earlier,” he explains while starting the car, and you watch him intently. Whenever your schedules matched, you’d sometimes go to and from uni together. But you can’t seem to get used to the image of your friend acting like a responsible adult. It’s fucking with you a bit. “But then I got a message from Prof Kim, asking if I could come by the office today.”

He pulls out of the parking lot, and the cool air finally settles into your skin. “For what?” Beomgyu lets out a groan. Must’ve been for a not great reason.

“The EMC department is hosting a conference of some sorts this year and he asked if I could be a volunteer facilitator, ask a few others from the department to help and join along too.”

“Oh? You gonna do it?”

“Ugh. I don’t know.” You pass through security out the main gate and start heading back to your apartment. “I wanted to come home over the break but the working days for this thing will apparently last throughout the summer. Prof Kim did say this will be minused from my volunteer hours, but I don’t know.” Beomgyu then gives you a side eye all of a sudden. “Speaking of. You undutiful daughter.”

“What?” you leer.

“Your mom hoped that you’d be home for the summer, too. Why didn’t you ask her first before enrolling for summer classes?”

“Why the hell do you two keep talking about me behind my back?” You’re shriveling up. Seriously, why does your mom contact him before you? This is getting ridiculous. “And I’m doing all this so I can graduate early and find a job early, by the way. I don’t even have a full week of classes so I can still come home the first week of July.”

Apparently, you two argued for long enough to finally reach your building. 

“Tell me when you plan on going home,” he says, leaning against the wall beside your door watching as you key in your passcode to your unit. 

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes, smiling. The door unlocks. You push it open. “You’re my free ride after all.” 

Now, your expected response from that is another retort from him, how you’ve been exploiting his kindness and whatnot and you’d have to snark back as well. But for some reason Beomgyu just stays quiet. He says nothing, an unreadable look on his face as he looks at yours. You raise a brow.

“What is it this time?”

Choi Beomgyu says nothing. He lifts up an arm, points his index finger near your face, and jabs his finger straight into your forehead.

“I’ll send you a review of your bokkeumbap later.” He laughs at your appalled expression.

“You’d be shocked to find out it’s better than my mom’s,” you say back, a hand tending to the spot he just attacked unprompted.

“You wish.”

“Eat shit.”

“Oh, I definitely will.” 

You send him a kick, which he dodges before fleeing into the safety of his apartment. Slippery bastard. Anyhow, you call it a day and settle into your own place. Few hours later, Beomgyu indeed sends you a review of your cooking with a photo of an empty dish attached. Three out of five, he says. Slippery bastard turned ungrateful bastard.

The next day, you’re at Horangnabi again. The night prior, you called Julie’s number and gave her the news that you’re in, and she told you to come an hour before opening so they can get you settled.

You come in with a greeting, and you see Julie look up from behind the counter to wave you in with a smile. “You’re here! Hanbin, come meet our new part-timer.”

At the mention of Hanbin’s name, you immediately double take, and emerging from the door to what you assume is the storage area is indeed the Hanbin you know from the coding club. 

“You!” you immediately shriek, almost feeling a hint of betrayal because this is the first time you’ve seen him in daylight, because their clubroom is always so fucking dark. And in something other than the god damned flannels everyone in their club is always so fond of wearing like it’s an unspoken uniform. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, so it is you!” Hanbin happily exclaims. “I thought it was just someone with the same name.”

Julie was delighted to find out you two already knew each other. You skip all the necessary introductions and jump in head first into getting acquainted with the equipment instead.

“We’ll go through all of the drinks first. I also have the recipes printed out over here in case you need reference.”

Having a familiar face in an unfamiliar workplace is indeed a pleasant surprise, but there’s also a familiar sense of dread to have one of Beomgyu’s coding club buddies in here. Granted, he doesn’t annoy or tease you as much as the others, but those guys have already given themselves a label in your head, and Sung Hanbin is no exception to your collective bad impression.

“And then you twist the handle— just like that.”

You’re in the middle of your first latte, the espresso machine up and running. After which, Hanbin teaches you how to use the milk steamer without any difficulty, and you pour the milk into the same cup as the espresso you made earlier. “Wow,” Hanbin remarks. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“I think it’s all thanks to the caffeine I’ve ingested,” you say. “Skill buff. Or whatever you guys say.”

Hanbin laughs and compliments your latte once more. Needless to say, it doesn’t take long for your discomfort to completely disappear because at this point in time, Beomgyu’s friends would already start asking you about him— where he is, why isn’t he with you, etcetera etcetera. But his name has not left Hanbin’s mouth even once, and it’s already the end of your first day.

“It’s always slow here, except on rare occasions, so you’ll be able to handle it with no problems,” Julie says before sending you off. “Anyway, Hanbin and I will be around during your shifts, so you can run to us in case a particularly grumpy student comes to order.”

Hanbin gives you a thumbs up and a bright grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

And that’s how you established your new routine for the rest of the summer. It’s just like Julie said. Things are pretty slow. The only notable thing that happened on your second day at work is Beomgyu sending you a very unflattering, low-angle selfie under the blinding lights of the faculty office glaring behind his head with the text message that he said yes to volunteering for the conference. Sad face emoji included. 

On Thursday, Julie taught you how to make a damn good waffle. On Monday next week, you got your first shitty customer. Finally on Friday, you decided to open your skeleton closet to Hanbin, because not once since your a little over a week of working here has he asked you about the whereabouts of Choi Beomgyu.

“You and Beomgyu are friends right?”

There aren’t any customers except for the regulars from Bio that are almost always found in the corner of the cafe until closing. Hanbin is wiping the already squeaky clean counter because there is nothing to do. “Yes?” he answers, a smile on his face, but with a tone that’s evidently confused. “So are you?”

Christ. Now you’re the one bringing that bastard up. “Right. It’s just a little odd.” There, you bring up what you’ve observed so far since working here, and the fact that you and him have shared actual conversations not involving your old friend, and how it’s pretty surprising to you. “One time, I thought someone was going to confess to me. Turns out he just wanted me to convince Beomgyu to help him rank up in League.”

“Well, I don’t really need any help in that area.” Hanbin laughs, shaking his head. “Sounds like you and him have been friends for a long time.”

Neither of you have told anyone about your history. No reason in particular. Beomgyu just never found the need to tell his friends that you’ve known each other from birth, and neither have you. But Hanbin’s presence, when separated from the rest of his friends, just feels like a blanket of comfort, and you find yourself spilling your guts to him— including the previous three to four month cold war you caused and the reasons.

Hanbin is patient. He listens the entire time with an attentiveness you can only compare to a saint. “I guess being a social butterfly has its unintentional consequences. I’m just happy to hear you two made up.”

“I probably would never regularly step foot in your dungeon hole otherwise.”

He laughs. “The guys in the club also tease you a lot, don’t they? Doesn’t it bother you?”

You press your lips together. “Yeah, but at this point it’s just white noise to me now.”

Hanbin looks at you. “That doesn’t mean you enjoy it either.”

Well. He’s not wrong. 

Your conversation gets cut short with the cafe bell signaling the entrance of customers. You look at the door. It’s a whole stampede of people. It’s Choi Beomgyu and his friends and you can’t even go on a day of talking about them without them showing up.

“Whoa, I’ve never been here before.”

“Dude, you’re in your third year. Where the hell have you been?”

“Doesn’t Hanbin hyung work here—”

“Yeah, let’s ask him to give us free cookies.”

“Hyunjin, buy me a drink.”

“Buy your own drink, nerd.”

“Hi, I’ll have an iced americano, and a— o-oh, my god.”

You’re face to face with Yang Jeongin who nearly pisses himself upon the recognition that it’s you behind the corner. It dominoes to the rest of the group. You don’t know why they’re being so dramatic. You let out a huff and a sigh. “An iced americano and…?” 

Jeongin doesn’t get to answer. Beomgyu unwedges himself from the group and squeezes his way to the counter. “You work here now?” 

You cock a brow. “Uh. Yeah.”

“Since when?” he immediately follows up. You’re a little taken aback.

“Since last Tuesday,” you answer after recounting. Beomgyu makes a face that burrows a pit in your stomach.

“You didn’t tell me.”

Okay. Now you’re very taken aback. There’s a cough from the crowd. And then a very intuitive, not-so-hushed remark from one of the boys. “Holy shit. They’re having a lovers’ quarrel.”

It hits a nerve. Hanbin quickly dissuades anything before you could open your mouth. “So, what are you guys ordering?”

The amount of drinks to make and pastries to bring out gets you busy for a while, but you still keep an eye on Beomgyu, watching as he settles back to normal joking mode with his friends while you try to find an opening to talk to him. You and Hanbin finish making all their orders, so you ask him if you can be excused for a moment. He tells you to go ahead and you make your way to Beomgyu, who’s sitting on one of the ends of the three conjoined tables in the more spacious corner of the store.

He’s talking to Yeonjun. When Yeonjun notices you approaching, he immediately quiets down, so you take this as permission to interrupt. You tap on Beomgyu’s shoulder. “Hey.” He turns around and looks up. “You good?”

Beomgyu opens his mouth, about to say something— “Ahem,” — but then Yeonjun clears his throat, accidentally catching the attention of the rest of the boys, and they’re suddenly popping out their heads like meerkats in your direction. “Should I give you two some space?”

“What’s going on?”

“They’re having a moment.”

“Oh my god.”

“Do you guys sell popcorn?”

You’re used to their teasing. You’re used to their bullshit, really. You’re fine if they pull on your hair strands inside their clubroom, but for fuck’s sake this is a public space. Heeseung isn’t even around, but it seems like all his clubmates caught his disease. Your bio regulars are sneaking a few glances at the commotion. There are other customers too. You’re visibly annoyed and embarrassed— which doesn’t go over Beomgyu’s head, because he notices. And he also looked like he’s getting irritated. 

“Hey, you two should just apologize and make up!”

Beomgyu gets up. You see his jaw clench. Oh no. You quickly grab his arm with a tug before he can do anything— only for Hanbin to show up with a tray, setting it down on their table in a less than gentle manner. They flinch. They shut up. Hanbin sets down a few plates with a chilling smile.

“We don’t have popcorn, but here are your fries,” he says. Wow. “Do you guys want to add anything else?”

There’s a single squeak from the group. “No, we’re good.”

Hanbin hums in acknowledgement and retrieves the tray from the table— not without sending you a thumbs up, to which you mouth a thank you in return. He smiles and nods before going back to the counter, and there you feel Beomgyu removing your hold on his arm from a while ago, and you quickly flit your attention back to him, fearing that you might’ve upset him. Again. Like last time.

“Wait—”

“Are you trying to slack off?” he jeers. You look at him, a little surprised. Beomgyu nudges his head to the counter and you see a few customers filtering in. He did remove your hand from his arm, but he’s still holding it. “I’m not upset because you didn’t tell me you started working here. Well. I was. A bit. But not anymore.”

You feel his thumb run through your knuckles, going over the bumps of each joint, followed by a gentle squeeze.

“It must’ve been heaven for you to get some peace and quiet for once. But then I had to bring these losers around,” he wrinkles his nose. You feel a load get off of your chest. Beomgyu lets go of your hand. “If you told me beforehand, I would’ve steered them away from here.”

“Well it’s fine as long as they don’t cause a scene.” You say the last part a little bit louder than conversational-volume. From the corner of your eye, you see Hyunjin cough on his fry. “Anyway, I gotta get back to work.”

“No shit. Go do what you’re paid for, slacker.”

He lands a smack on your back and you’re pushed off to do your job. Gosh. Hanbin welcomes you back to the station and the both of you are kept busy for the time being, up until late afternoon strikes, and Beomgyu says he can’t drive you home today since they’re still needed back at the faculty office.

“Your girlfriend can get home just fine! Prof Kim’s looking for us, hurry—”

And just like that, he gets lugged out of the cafe. Jeongin laments about returning to “printing hell,” whatever he means by that, and the walls of Horangnabi are once again returned to their original state— peace and quiet.

The bell jingles. You hear nothing but the metronomic melody from the speakers. “Your friends are so draining,” you tell Hanbin.

He just laughs. “They’re quite energetic.”

You should’ve appreciated the serenity and calmness of your first couple of days working here because for the next few weeks, the coding club has decided that the campus cafe is going to be their regular hangout spot from now on. Or until their summer volunteer work finally ends.

“You know, you’re so pretty.”

It’s the end of June now. You’re wiping off some spilled milk from the counter when Julie suddenly decides to dote on you. She’s on the other side of the counter, face between her palms, and your wiping stops, face flushed.

“I—I’m sorry?”

“You’re like the prettiest flower in a garden and I’d fend off all the other bees and butterflies just to have you for myself,” she doubles down. You release a laugh, mildly forced because holy shit, this is a new kind of attention. “No wonder you have all these guys buzzing around you all the time.”

Julie thumb-points at the corner the coding club guys usually occupy. You hear Hyunjin losing his shit over something—

“I think he’s the one they keep buzzing around, seonbae.”

—something Choi Beomgyu very likely said considering the grin he has on his face, and how Yeonjun is also collapsing on his shoulders. You watch as his grin disappears into a cup, taking a sip from the lime soda he ordered. Then he notices you staring. He settles down the drink and gets up. 

“Oh no, he’s coming over.”

“What?” he says after reaching the counter, taking the spot next to Julie. “Are you talking shit about me again?”

“Hey, not everything is about you, insect,” answers Julie. Those two have gotten pretty close too. “I was talking about how pretty our new barista is. She’s a breath of fresh air. A rose among the truckload of weeds sullying the pretty interiors of our dear cafe.”

Beomgyu snorts at the comparison. You give him the stink eye.

“I get what she means,” Hanbin slides into conversation. He hums and passes you the milkshake Jeongin ordered. It’s still missing the whipped cream on top. You fetch a container from the fridge and walk back to your station, only to be met by a sudden debate on what kind of flower you are now.

“No, no. She’s not a rose,” you hear Yeonjun interject. “Appearance wise, she’s like a daffodil. Personality wise, she’s a venus flytrap.” A few of them chortle and laugh. You roll your eyes and start shaking the container.

“You’re wrong, she’s a hydrangea!”

“Aren’t they poisonous?”

“Exactly.”

A few more give their pitches. Honestly, you’re pretty impressed by the amount of knowledge these gamer gremlin boys have. You finish Jeongin’s milkshake and give it back to Hanbin for delivery. Beomgyu is quiet throughout the whole debacle, until Hyunjin eggs him on to give his pitch. They need to hear the expert’s verdict, he says. Beomgyu just brushes them off until he notices you looking at him expectantly. He pauses. He’s actually thinking about it. You’re pleasantly surprised at his sudden thoughtfulness— that is, of course, until he actually opens his freaking mouth.

“You’re a milkweed.”

It’s like a ball gets punted into your head. It bounces off and lands on the ground. You hear a wheeze from the boys. You give Beomgyu the middle finger.

“A weed! Not even a flower!”

“Hey, they are flowers! Go look it up!”

Beomgyu can’t redeem himself anymore. You’re already looking at him with bitter disgust and Julie proceeds to call him a piece of shit.

“It really is a flower!” 

He still defends, pleading his case to you even after the topic has shifted. Julie has left to clean up some tables. Beomgyu remains in his spot on the other side of the counter until you decide to believe him and his alleged substantial botanical knowledge. 

“Sure, whatever,” you deride. Beomgyu is still pouty. “Anyway, your conference thingy is this weekend, right? We’re going home right after?”

“Yeah,” he says, still sounding a little bitter and you bite down a laugh. His eyes flutter down, noticing something on your chin, and offhandedly wipes off what you assume is some stray whipped cream from earlier with his thumb. “Do you wanna leave in the morning or afternoon?”

“Oooooh.”

Lee Heeseung suddenly rears his head near the counter to return their empty plates. He’s back from vacation and now he’s here to reclaim his rightful spot as your number one annoyance. “Get a room,” he says with a shit eating grin that you want to wipe the floor with.

“Why’d you even come back early?” you leer at him. “Weren’t you supposed to be island hopping until the end of July?”

He sticks his tongue out. Beomgyu just laughs. “I can’t miss Sungchan’s party. You’re going, right?”

Right. The alleged wildest, most epic summer rager Jung Sungchan mentioned before parting ways with you and Minjeong over vacation. He texted you about it again last night. You couldn’t leave him on read because he called you immediately after.

“Unfortunately,” you lament. “Sungchan’s gonna throw a tantrum if I don’t show up.”

“You know Sungchan?” Beomgyu suddenly asks. 

You give him a pointed look. “Duh, obviously. We’re in the same major.”

It’s like a lightbulb materializes on the top of his head. “Ah,” he says. “I forgot you had other friends.”

You quickly retaliate by attacking him with the nearest thing you can get your hands on: a dish towel. He lets out a very fake, very dramatic yelp of pain and tells on you to Julie noona for abusing your customers and that you should be fired. 

“You’re no customer, you termite.”

“Ack! Noona! She’s hitting me again!”

“Is this how the youngins flirt nowadays?”

Both of you freeze in frame— him trying to yank your weapon from your hands and you with an arm up ready to throw a punch— and turn your heads towards Heeseung, who has a very smug smile playing on his face. You shoot Beomgyu a glare before roughly tugging the dish towel from his grasp. “Shut your mouth, Hee. How’s it going with your compsci girlie, anyway. You’ve stopped bragging since last month.”

Heeseung’s smile stiffens. He breathes out a ‘haha,’ before starting to turn away. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Serves him right. After a while you routinely bid them good riddance since they have to leave for volunteer work again. The weekend comes rolling, they finish the conference, and, with summer vacation coming to a close, you also bid your part-time job here at Horangnabi farewell as well after two-months of service. 

“It’s not like she’s never coming back here,” Beomgyu huffs. You two decided to stop by before leaving off to your hometown, Monday after their conference. Julie refuses to stop squeezing you. Beomgyu tugs on your shirt sleeve, but you don’t budge. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Coming from the guy who’s spending the entire week with her,” Julie spits back. “You better bring her back here in one piece, you bug.”

Choi Beomgyu succeeds in retrieving you this time. The container carrying two cups of coffee swings in your hand as an arm hooks around your neck, tipping you back, and the top of your skull hits Beomgyu’s chin.

“Hanbin, we’re heading out.”

“Drive safe!”

You’re only spending a little over a week in Daegu. You two still need to come back to Seoul in time for Jung Sungchan’s, cough, epic summer rager. He hasn’t missed a day in reminding you about it. You’re out for a joint-family dinner with Choi Beomgyu and his family and your phone buzzes only to see Sungchan’s text saying [three days. i better see you there 🫵🫵🫵]. 

“Your classes don’t even start until September.”

It’s the third week of August. Your mom decides to walk you to Beomgy’s car. “I still need to enroll and register for my classes,” you tell her. “I’ll call you when I arrive.” You pause. “And if you want to know what I’m up to, just ask me directly for god’s sake. Quit asking that guy.”

That guy wrinkles his nose at you. “Auntie, don’t listen to her. She’s just being jealous.”

“Wait until I tell your mom about how you nearly set fire to your kitchen.”

“Say a single word and I’m never letting you in my car anymore.”

Jung Sungchan’s party is at their vacation home in Eunpyeong District because his parents aren’t in the country. There’s a pool (gross). He promised you and Minjeong exclusive room access to escape to in case of emergencies (nice). It’s late afternoon. Beomgyu is already there because, well, he’s Choi Beomgyu and everyone’s obsessed with him. You’re still at Minjeong’s apartment, getting ready and borrowing some of her accessories.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you guys here?” he asks over the phone. You can barely hear him with the noise in the background. “Taxi fare’s expensive.” 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Minjeong makes a face from the foot of the bed while she irons her hair. “I’ve saved up a lot of pocket money thanks to you being my personal chauffeur anyway. And Minjeong doesn’t like you. She thinks you’re a douchebag.”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Bye.” You hang up. Minjeong still has a look on her face. “What?”

“I think he’s stringing you along,” she says bitingly.

You let out a huff. “How can he string me along when I don’t even like him?” Minjeong simply says that Choi Beomgyu gives her bad vibes, whatever the fuck she means because the only vibe Beomgyu exudes is the vibe of extreme annoyance. You hop off Minjeong’s bed and change into the outfit you brought, opting to put on this very big, droopy sunhat you once bought at a flea market as extra protection. It’s stupid hot out. You steal some of Minjeong’s sunscreen as well before finally heading out.

“Did Sungchan invite everyone at uni or something?”

A foot into his gate, it’s already so crowded. Like really fucking crowded. There’s music blasting somewhere. You can’t find Sungchan anywhere in the yard so you and Minjeong squeeze your way into the house, and there you find him with Heeseung. Minjeong yells for his attention, and he spins around with a big smile. “Hey, you made it!” Sungchan hurls himself at you with a bone crushing hug. “It feels like it’s been ten years since I last saw you.”

“Quit being so dramat— ack! Tap out, tap out! I give!”

He finally releases you, and you grunt. “Here you go.” He tosses the keys to the room he promised. 

“Have fun partying.” Minjeong snatches it into her hands immediately. You scan the area for a bit. You see Hyunjin and Jeongin in the corner of the living room.

“Boo, you’re so lame,” jeers Sungchan, to which Minjeong just ignores and tugs your arm.

“How about you?” she asks.

You shift your gaze back to her. “I’ll go look for Choi Beomgyu’s round head first then hermit up there with you.” Minjeong makes a gagging noise before going off for the staircase. You’re ready to take out your phone to shoot Beomgyu a text, but you feel a sudden weight on the top of your head, so you look up, brows knitted.

“Your boyfie’s out in the back, sunshine,” Sungchan says while attempting to snatch your hat. 

“Not my fucking boyfriend.” You swat his hand away and readjust the hat on your head. “But thanks. Later.”

The thing about your longtime friend is that no matter how crowded the place, no matter how flooded an area is with people and people and people— he’s generally very easy to find. Just look for a crowd, look for bodies circling around each other and whoever is at the epicenter, at the eye of the storm, is more often than not Choi Beomgyu.

Your trick is proven to be effective this time around as well. When you leave the living room through the glass doors to the backyard, you spot him instantaneously sitting on the ledge of the other side of the pool, feet dipping into the water as he laughs along with the large group surrounding him. It’s bright out— the sun’s rays bouncing off from the water’s surface to glitter the underside of his face. Even the sun has his attention. It’s so comically ridiculous that you almost roll your eyes into a scoff. That is until you see him see you, and within a moment’s notice, he’s up on his feet and is departing from the crowd to walk up to you.

“You’re here.”

The first thing he does is swipe the sunhat from your head, adding it to his obnoxiously colored outfit: a bright pink buttoned top with neon orange flowers, the color matching the necklace he’s uncharacteristically wearing. He’s also got a pair of square framed sunglasses perched on his nose. “Is this your highlighter cosplay?” you ask, snickering. 

He shoots you a glare. “Fuck off. What took you so long, anyway? Thought you got lost or something.”

“I wish I did,” you grunt. There’s a holler and a splash from somewhere. You feel a few droplets hitting the skin of your feet. Beomgyu tugs you by the arm a little farther away from the pool. “This is way too noisy for my liking. And I thought I’ve been desensitized by you and your friends.” 

“Yeah, but—”

“Beomgyu!”

A third voice suddenly barges in from behind you. Beomgyu’s eyes leave your face for a second when you feel someone brush past your shoulders. “Hey!” Beomgyu greets back, giving who you assume is one of his friends a high five before the guy runs off again, then his gaze flits back to you. “Anyway—”

“Hey, kid, haven’t seen you in a while!”

A more familiar face shows up and greets Beomgyu with a slap on the back, once more fishing away his attention. You’ve seen him at Horangnabi before, you think. “Hyung, I’ll get to you in a sec!” he says. When Beomgyu looks at you again, his smile quickly drops into a pursed huff. “Ugh.”

You laugh. “You were saying?”

Beomgyu smacks his tongue in distaste, tugging you even further into a corner in the backyard, right next to a bush-lined fence under the shade. “I was trying to say— it’s good to get out of your comfort zone once in a while, you know. Your mother would cry tears of joy to hear that her hermit of a daughter is at a party.”

“Why do you always bring up my mother when you want to make a point?”

“Extra leverage,” he grins. “There’s drinks in the cooler. Want me to get you one?”

“Nah,” you say. “I’m gonna hole up in Sungchan’s room in about—” you check the time on your phone. “Ten minutes. Minjeong’s already in our sanctuary.”

You receive a pinch on the nose from Beomgyu for that. You try to elbow him off, and just as he’s about to say something again, you two hear his name being yelled out from somewhere in the area. “Choi Beomgyu! Pool volleyball, stat!” Beomgyu pauses, arms dropping to his sides and his shoulders slump in defeat. A single breath of wind, he’s gonna fall over.

“God fucking damn it.”

It’s very funny seeing him like this. “Off you go,” you push his limp body out of the shade, the sun hitting you both once more. Beomgyu makes a grunt of protest. “Go, butterfly, go. Your people are waiting for you.”

Beomgyu gives you a look of awful judgment, but starts unbuttoning his shirt anyway in preparation to take a dive. “You’re not gonna swim?” he asks.

“In that water?” you grimace. “Want me to catch a disease or some shit? You’re on your own, pal.”

“Drama queen,” he huffs, fully removing his shirt now and you’re like whoa there— eyes away, eyes away. A screeching voice calls from his attention. He looks behind to yell back, “Shut the fuck up, I’ll there in a minute!”

“Hand me your phone,” you tell him, holding out your hand. Beomgyu turns around, looking at you with his atrociously bright shirt hanging on his forearm. You clear your throat. “And clothes. Ask Sungchan for directions to his room to find me later.”

“You sure?” he asks, digging into his short pockets.

“Yeah. Go have your fun, loser.”

Beomgyu hums and takes your offer, handing you his phone, tossing his shirt to your face, putting your sun hat back on top of your head and making sure to ruin your hair in the process. He’s so fucking annoying. “I’ll be back after I kick their asses.”

The shirt drops from your face and falls, only to hang on your arm. “Hey. I don’t really care,” you say. Beomgyu doesn’t find that response satisfactory. He makes a face before running off, slow at first before breaking into a sprint once he’s near enough the pool, before jumping straight into the water with a loud splash!

His head emerges from the water, largely grinning with his hair sticking to his skull. It doesn’t take long for him to be swallowed by a group of people. You take this as your cue to leave.

“I know you hate it when people assume you’re dating. But seeing all that, I really can’t blame them.”

“Holy shit— Minjeong,” you jump, meeting face-to-face with your friend the moment you spin your heels. She’s got her arms crossed, looking at you like she’s massively unimpressed. “When did you get here?”

“I thought you died or something,” she shrugs. There’s a splash from the pool, you two getting hit as collateral damages and Minjeong makes a gagging noise. “I can’t believe I left home early for this mess.”

You make a noise of agreement. It’s around four right now, the number of people isn’t getting any smaller, and the music is yet to get louder. Choi Beomgyu’s shirt and phone are still on your person. Said phone buzzing incessantly in your hold. “I’ve been out here for a good ten minutes,” you say. “I think that’s enough.”

“Good call. Let’s go upstairs.”

On the way to the room, you bump into Heeseung, who ropes you in to taking two jello shots before setting you free. You also greet a few people that you know for uni here and there, but you can barely hear them over, well, everything. It’s so chaotic, you’re beginning to wonder how the hell Jung Sungchan is going to clean up the aftermath of this. Or maybe that’s why he was so desperate to have you and Minjeong over. So that you’d help him clean up. 

Minjeong seems to agree with your theory. You two key in the door to the room he gave you while cussing him out. “That bastard. Of course, he’d have ulterior motives.” The door opens. Minjeong lets herself in and immediately throws herself face-first onto the bed. “I’m gonna nap.”

“You dressed up all cutely just to sleep at a party,” you say, scanning around the room for a place to put away Beomgyu’s things. 

“Hey, my ten minutes of screentime needs to be worth it,” she replies, voice muffled by the mattress. “Night, night.”

With how pretty the interiors look, you’re pretty sure this isn’t a room Sungchan frequents. A guest bed, maybe. There’s a large window on the opposite wall revealing a vivid backyard view, sheer white curtains filtering the sun. It’s very bohemian. Tasseled rugs, rattan decor hung all around. You notice the round, wicker seat next to the bed with a patterned cushion. You toss Beomgyu’s belongings there and walk up to the window.

Peeling back the curtain, you look down to see a flood of people scattered all about the yard, muffled music and noises leaking into the cracks of the room. Choi Beomgyu is still splashing around the pool. You watch as he throws a beach ball overhead, eyes following it fly across the water, until it ultimately bounces off the pool ledge and hits someone from behind. He looks pretty happy with the stunt. You let out a huff, a tug on the corners of your mouth, and let yourself sink into the soft rug in between the bed and the windowsill, laying down.

You hear Minjeong squirming from above. Damn, she’s actually sleeping. You’d get up there and join her too, but the floor is already comfortable, and you’re already yawning, so you feel yourself starting to doze off, lulled by the distant sounds of people from the outside.

When you open your eyes again, it’s orange.

You open your phone. Almost six in the evening. The sunset leaks into the room through the sheer curtain, painting shadows on the floor as you blink and regain your consciousness.

Then you hear three sharp knocks from the other side of the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming.” It takes a while for you to reconnect the wires in your brain. You let out a yawn as you make your groggy steps towards the door, seeing Minjeong wedged into the upper corner of the bed in a way that’s definitely going to wrinkle her outfit. There’s a few more knocks on the door. You twist the knob open and lo and behold—

It’s Choi Beomgyu.

“Oh, thank god, I found the right room this time.”

Half-clothed. With a very evident, painful red mark on his left cheekbone.

“Holy shit. What the hell happened to you?”

You’re wide awake now. Beomgyu answers with a sheepish grin. “Well. You see. A little accident occurred.” 

He flinches back and looks away guiltily with tightly pressed lips the moment you nudge your face closer. It’s swollen. You take a step back with a sigh. “Explain,” you say, grabbing him into the room. You tip the door close with your foot and bring him to the foot of the bed, careful not to wake Minjeong up in the process.

“Some of the guys got a little too tipsy,” he starts as you sit him down onto the mattress. You kneel onto the bed stool, sinking into the loose blanket draped on the cushion just next to his outstretched legs while he continues yapping. “There was a surfboard involved. Don’t ask. But with alcohol-induced lack of coordination, and then there’s me who was by the pool ledge at the wrong place at the wrong time— I think you can get an idea of what happened.

He leans back, sinking his hands into the cushion. You dip forward. “That’s nothing to brag about.” Yeah, he’s gonna need some ice. 

“I think I bumped my head a little too.”

You feel a breath escape. He’s smiling. How many beer cans has he downed already? “Beomgyu. Seriously. What the fuck?” His face is irritating you, so you grab it and yank it down to get a good look of his big, round head. “Where?”

“Ack! Gently! Do it gently!” he complains, and you feel his right hand coil around your left wrist. “It’s father in the back, I think—”

“Quit grabbing—”

“Ow!”

You do manage to find the bump, but you accidentally press on it a little too hard, causing Choi Beomgyu to yank your wrist in surprise, jerking you forward out of balance. Now, that’s fine and all, but at the same moment, you hear two unfamiliar voices speaking in hushes approaching the door. Your eyes widen.

“Are you sure this room is empty?”

“Yeah, it’s empty, just—”

Swing! 

You try to get up. But your knees slip on the blanket on the stool and you stumble forward upon hearing the door slam open.

It’s a domino effect. Your palms are pressing against the soft mattress. Choi Beomgyu’s bruised face is looking straight at you in alarm. From underneath. You’re on top of him. On the bed. You snap your head towards the door and it’s wide, wide open with two people, half inside, and a few more heads poking in and zeroing in on you as the realization that you forgot to fucking lock it dawns upon you and soaks into your bones.

This. This isn’t a favorable position.

God damn it all.

“Sorry!”

And the door is slammed shut once more. That doesn’t matter. The damage has been done. You feel your face starting to burn and your strength attempting to escape from your body.

“Uh.”

The voice from below you reels your attention back in. You blink. Shit. You’re practically pinning Choi Beomgyu against the bed right now and his face is just a few inches away from yours. The heat is rising to your head. You want to move, but your arms won’t budge— seemingly temporarily locked into place by the shock of the sight underneath you.

His eyes are wide open, reflecting the orange tinted light from the ceiling, flushing his skin with a light shade of auburn, the tint deeper on his cheeks and nose. You see his throat bob, muscles contracting. 

The thing is, you’ve known him for a good twenty years or so, give or take. But you’ve never seen his face this close before, and you have to admit—

“C—can you move?”

Choi Beomgyu is kind of pretty.

Even with an ugly bruise forming underneath his eye.

“Hey. I don’t think this is gonna help kill any of the rumors.”

You look up to see Minjeong further up on the bed, very, very awake. You forgot she’s here. You toss yourself to the side with a squeak, practically hurling yourself off from the bed. “It—it was an accident!” you start. Minjeong simply shakes her head with sigh.

“I know. I saw everything. I was already awake the moment you sat this fucker’s ass on the bed.”

Hot. Your face is very hot. But Minjeong is also very right because god— you’re not sure how far things are gonna escalate. How many people saw that? Five? Maybe Six? Gosh, you don’t fucking know. The only thing you’re sure about is the fact that Lee Heeseung is gonna have a field day once he hears about this. You are royally screwed.

나비 / NABI. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[savannahsdeath]

hi i love your writing SO MUCH and idk if i requested this already but… do you think we can get a brothers best friend ellie?? readers brother DOES NOT want them together but they end up fucking when he’s asleep/not home. or reader goes to ellies house and eats her out while shes on call with reader’s brother?? either one is fine i would just love to see you write it

i think you requested that but i made it likee the brother didnt care so heres a second one🤭ill post the first one too tho!!

BBF!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! smut, almost getting caught

writers note: im sorry its so short whateva💔

You couldn't decide whether you like it or not.

Well, of course you did. Ellie never failed to make you feel good, her strap hitting all the right places while her hands caressed your thighs. She was rough, but not too rough. Degrading, but also praising. Basically, she was all you could ever ask for and more. What was there to hate?

But at some point, there was this little voice in your head telling you you're pathetic. Pathetic for liking this, agreeing to this and... just admiring her overall.

Because, jesus, 'she's my brother's friend. Best friend. What am I going to tell him?'

You, as the little sister, always let him insult you. Your opinion didn't matter, you gave up on trying to be important long time ago. You didn't hate him, he wasn't that bad. It was just sibling love language. He just couldn't be nice. If he knew about you and Ellie...

You were good at hiding it, though. When you first met her, you didn't believe she's really friends with your brother. Not to be mean, but you didn't thought he'll get along with someone who seems so... perfect.

'She probably has a shitty personality.'

That's how you explained their friendship. And you were terribly wrong.

After she visited your house once, she kept coming almost every day. At this point, you got used to that.

Oh, well, not exactly... There was some awkward situations, like when you exited the bathroom in only a towel wrapped around your bare skin and you saw her leaning against the handrail in the hallway. She only ruffled your hair and laughed at your embarrassment, seeing you blush and holding onto the fabric like your life depended on it. Maybe it did, actually?

It wasn't long after that before you began to wonder -'She can't be friends with my brother... can she?'- You started to notice more things - her kindness towards you, a tender touch here and there, and the way she looked at you made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. So what if she was his best friend? Would he really mind?

But what if he did? What if he found out?

Suddenly that little voice in your head was screaming louder than ever, and that feeling of shame and guilt crept up on you again.

But no matter how much of the guilt you felt, and despite the small voice in your head telling you you're pathetic, it felt right. You felt accepted. Accepted by someone who was perfect in every way. The thought of telling your brother filled you with dread, but it seemed so far away. You could figure out that little problem later, right? Just for now, you could feel a rush of emotions - mostly guilt, but also a rush of lust that made you want more.

More and more.

And she gave you more.

A quiet -'fuck'- escaped her lips as she saw your cunt throbbing against her strap. Her hands continued firmly holding you down as you didn't even bother to stay quiet. You felt so good... and so ashamed... You wanted it to stop but at the same time, you knew you'd beg for more if she would even simply slow down.

It was really your own fault.

This was the first time in ages you were left home alone, so you immediately invited Ellie over. First time you won't have to bury your face in the pillows. First time she won't have to shush you. First time you could actually do everything.

You were fighting your own thoughts, not knowing which one are the bad ones. You had no idea if you're doing the right thing. And you most definitely weren't but you were too fucked up to realize that.

Ellie chuckled, hearing your not-muffled this time sounds. "Were you always this loud? Jesus, how did we manage to keep this a secret for so long?"

The truth is, she wasn't silent herself. Fine, she wasn't a whining mess, unlike you, but still - the little 'fuck's and praises escaping her mouth weren't too quiet.

You continued squirming and whimpering about how big she is and how much it hurts, hoping it'll magically change, though you didn't really wanted it to. Or maybe you did? You weren't sure. Your mind continued the fight wether it's good or pathetic, none of the sides prevailing.

She clicked her tongue in disappointment, but her smirk told you how proud she really is. "I know, I know, so stop moving so fucking much." She said.

Her raspy, tired voice was enough to make you squirm again. You weren't used to hear it in these circumstances before, since it's obviously the first time she could speak loudly and clearly, without worrying about your brother.

"I said something, doll." Her grip on your hips hardened, almost aggressively pinning you to bed.

You heard the ring hanging near the door, meaning someone opened them. Just by footsteps you could tell it was your brother.

"Should I stop?" She asked with mock-concern and interest. You realized your answer won't change anything - maybe just the intensity of her moves, so you didn't waste your energy answering. That was a sign of your obedience and helplessness Ellie waited for. "Good girl."

She rolled you on your stomach and tangled her fingers in your hair, pressing your head into the pillow. She shoved it down with every thrust - every hit of your climax - to stop you from moaning. And of course it didn't work completely, but they faded enough to be inaudible outside the room.

She was intentionally going faster and faster. She loved playing with you, feeling the thrill of it, even though you didn't find it so amusing. You digged your nails into the tattoo on her forearm, hoping to slow her down.

"Ya know what will happen if he hears?" She didn't seem to care that your fingers were literally drawing blood from her body. "You'll handle it. Unless you want him to find out?" She whispered.

You immediately shook your head, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut.

Then, your moment of focus broke as you heard knocking, on the door to your room this time.

"I'm back!" Your brother announced.

You asked him to tell you whenever he goes out or cames back, mostly so you knew if Ellie's free, since he only goes out with her. Today was the first time he went outside on his own and the poor guy had no idea she found a reason to visit your house anyway, just like he had no idea she did so even when he was home, in his room, right above yours.

The lack of response surprised him, so he knocked once more before shouting confused -'You there?'

Ellie looked down at you, daring you to answer, mouthing silent 'go on' in the most taunting voice she could.

"Yes! That's good!" Your voice was shaky and you knew he will notice.

He wasn't really caring, just curious, so he had to know everything. His first sentence sounded cute, like he really cared, but you figured out he's making fun of you as soon as you heard the other questions. "Are you crying? What, you weren't invited to some lame party? Or a boy you know for a week broke up with you?"

And what were you supposed to say? -'No, your best friend is fucking me for... probably more than an hour now, and her dick is probably bigger than yours, so I can't control my tears'

"Yeah, something lik- Oh, fuck off!" You screamed back, succeeding to pretend you're really hurt because of one of the pathetic things he accused you for.

He laughed. "Mhm- Whatever!"

The footsteps climbed up stairs and got silent. Ellie bit her bottom lip, holding back a chuckle.

"Does he really think of you so low?" Her hips slowed down again, but became more precise. "You did good, don't worry. It'll be over soon."

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Reader Forbidden Love (fem)

Poll story!

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, unhappy marriage, cheating, p in v, unprotected sex, angst

1.9k word count

💔

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At 2 am you wake up and head into the shower. Today is your last day home before your seven-month deployment and you hate to admit you’ve been looking forward to it. While other soldiers might love their time home, you don’t. It’s all stagnant, the same mundane life you try to run from. You step out of the shower to see your husband, Jon, standing there brushing his teeth. He looks over at you and smiles.

In an attempt to hide your body you snatch your towel off the hook and wrap it around yourself, giving your husband a weak smile in return. You quickly walk past him into the bedroom, gathering your uniform while leaving behind a trail of water. Jon pokes his head into the bedroom to watch you, assuming your attitude is just nerves.

“Jon, can I get some privacy?” You say stomping over to close the door in his face.

Once you're dressed and your hair pulled back in a bun, you go to the kitchen with your bags. Jon sits there smiling weakly at you while he watches you sit to lace up your boots. He hates to see you go, being your highschool sweetheart, he’s never spent time away from you before you joined KorTac.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Me too.”

You stand and so does he. His arms wrap around you in a tight hug, making you feel guilty for your lack of feelings. Being forced to marry him from a young age, you feel as if you’ve grown out of him. He was what you needed when leaving your abusive childhood home, but now that you’re stable you realize it was never love; simply survival. Yet, here you stay. There is an odd sense of loyalty, as if you owe him for helping you get to this point.

“I should go.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

The fifteen-hour flight seemed to drag on, putting your feet down on the ground was a welcomed feeling. Out of the corner of your eye you spot König, looking at you through the eye holes in his sniper hood. For a moment the gaze lingers before you turn your head and continue on your way.

It’s the middle of the night as you toss and turn in your cot, unable to sleep. The first night in a new place always gets to you. In the darkness you look over at the woman that is sharing the tent with you, she’s fast asleep. Letting out a deep sigh, you get off of the cot and leave the tent.

The moons brightness is dulled by a cloudy night, a few shining stars peeking through. Tall grass sways in the wind as your eyes roam. Unconsciously you turn and look towards König’s tent before looking away and letting out a deep breath. After a second thought, you walk away and head back to your tent.

König takes a deep drag of his cigarette watching you walk away from his tent with a smirk. He pushes off of the tree and begins to walk towards you, letting a puff of smoke slip from between his lips. His eyes trail over every inch of your body as he approaches you.

“Can’t sleep, Liebling?”

“Jesus Christ!” You jump and turn around when you see him, letting out a small laugh.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” König chuckles lightly.

You watch as he tosses the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it before walking closer to you. “I saw you were looking for me.”

“I—”

“I was waiting for you, follow me.”

König grabs your hand and walks you to his tent. While he tries to appear relaxed, his heart is pounding in his chest. It’s been too long since he’s seen you, since he’s been able to taste you. He scans the area to make sure no one sees the two of you together, standing guard as he opens the flap of the tent and lets you in.

You enter his private tent, but before you can say a word König scopes you up into his arm and lifts you up. He pulls his hood off and tosses it to the floor, leaning in to kiss you deeply. He holds you ass cupped in his hands, squeezing the supple flesh as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your lip’s part, accepting his tongue as he carries you to his chair and sits down.

“I’ve missed you.” König says as he pulls back, letting his hands rub circles over your hips and rear.

“I’ve missed you too, König.”

“Why did you ignore me earlier today?”

“There were a lot of people around.”

“Ja? That doesn’t mean we can’t talk.” His hands slip underneath your shirt and begin to touch your warm flesh. “I was a little upset, I won’t lie.”

“I’m sorry.” You move your hands to cup his strong jawline.

“Don’t be sorry. I have you now.”

König lifts your shirt up and pulls it over your head, he begins to kiss your neck down to your cleavage. His hands slowly wrap around your back, unhooking your bra and allowing it to fall off your body slowly. He takes a moment to look down at your breasts before leaning in to kiss them, his mouth eagerly finding your hard nipples.

While his mouth suckles at your breasts he continues to undress you, undoing your pants and letting his hands slip underneath the waistband. He stands you up to pull your pants down, his lips leaving your breasts and trails down your abdomen. The strong smell of your wet cunt hits him as he pulls down your black panties.

“You look even better than I remember.” König says as he leans back in the chair and pulls off his shirt, undoing his pants to release himself.

“Do you have a condom?”

“Since when do we use condoms?” König tilts his head as he stares at you curiously.

“I- like just in case.”

“I don’t have any. I only have sex with you, and you said we won’t use them.” He reaches out and grabs your arm pulling you to him.

You go willingly towards him and straddle his lap. The heat from his erection adiates underneath your lap as you rock your wet pussy back and forth on his length. He’s right. You said no condoms because you wanted children, but now you’re second guessing it. Could you really break up a nearly two-decade long relationship?

“Where’s your mind?” König whispers as he kisses your neck.

“Right here.” You lie.

You adjust yourself and reach between your legs to position his cock right up against your entrance. His lips linger on your neck as he waits for you to lower yourself, his cock throbbing slightly with need. After waiting, you sit down on him; sinking down slowly but completely on his long shaft.

“Oh, fuck y/n.”

König’s hands move down to your hips, assisting you in your bounces. His eyes lower and lock on to your breasts as they jiggle with each little motion you make. The sounds of pleasure that leave him come out in a melody matching your rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You don’t respond as you continue to move, your hands on his shoulders with your nails digging in and leaving red marks behind on his pale skin. All you want to do is focus on how good he feels stretching you out, closing your eyes and just trying to tune his voice out. That is until he grabs your jaw in his massive hand, forcing you to open your eyes and face him.

“I asked, whose pussy is this?” His voice is more of a low growl when he asks the second time.

“Yours.”

The usual blue color of his eyes is replaced by his blown-out pupils, completely lost in the moment with you. “Gut, good girl.” König lowers himself in the chair and leans you forward against his chest as his hands grip you. He thrust up into you, rapidly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You gaze back into his eyes as your eyebrows pinch together, your body becoming overwhelmed with the need to orgasm. The sound of your sopping wet pussy swallowing him up radiates in the small space of the tent. König’s body quickly becomes sweaty, his breathing heavy as he tries his best to hold off on his own release until you do.

“König.” You whimper.

“Oh- y/n. I love you fucking pussy.”

“Please, harder.”

König stands, shocking you. Your eyes open wide as he quickly turns and places you on the chair. He grabs the back of the chair and use it to balance himself as he slams into you, watching your face as it slowly crunches up.

“Cum for me, cum on my cock!”

“Fuck!”

You squirm, each thrust of his cock sends a powerful burst of ecstasy throughout your whole body. The begging and whimpers turn into a mumble of nothing as your pussy clenches around his cock. König closes his eyes for a split moment before looking back down at you, pushing himself all the way in causing you to cry out softly. He throbs, releasing deeply in you.

König tilts your face up so he can kiss you, keeping his cock inside of you while he calms down. Every time he cums inside of you, he uses his cock as a plug. In his mind this only ups the chances even though you haven’t been pregnant yet. Yet.

Once you both clean up and get dressed, you reach down to pull your boots back on. He hits on his little nest on the floor, he’s too big for a cot so he works around it. You’re distant, more than usual. It worries him, but he’s trying to act calm.

“Where are you going so quickly? Don’t you want to snuggle?”

“I’m tired.”

“So? Sleep here.”

You look up at him and let out a soft sigh. “You know I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“We could get caught.”

“So?” König leans forward, not used to this defiance from you. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, König.” You snap at him.

His eyes widen, not expecting you to get so angry at him. For a moment he just waits and watches you. He stands and walks to you, grabbing your waist, and pulling you back to sit on his lap on the ground.

“König!” You sound annoyed with him as you try to stand up, but he won’t let you go.

“Please, please talk to me. Don’t act like this after all this time apart.” His voice sounds defeated in that moment. He can’t bear to speak out loud that he’s fearful of you growing tired of him, of this. You’ve become the most important person in his life. Losing you isn’t something he’s ready for.

“I don’t know. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Talk to me. I will try to help.” He’s desperate to not be rejected.

You turn and look at him with a small frown. If only it could be that easy. There are a million thoughts rushing through your mind. Is a future with him even realistic? “Not tonight. We should really sleep.”

Reluctantly, he relaxes his hold on you. Logically he knows that he can’t force you to open up or stay here with him. While he wants to, he can’t. He watches with sad eyes as you stand from his lap without so much as a goodbye kiss.

“I love you, y/n.”

“Me too…” You say softly to König before leaving his tent.