#<- it's not but i want it to be in my tag

[reigobun]

Six in new tpot. Im crazy im insane

[yaekiss]

o. okay. vampire brainrot blurbs part two.

because of castrum kremnos' pomegranate juice representing blood, you don't find it odd when mydeimos— your mydei— eyes up your neck on the warmer days where your turtlenecks and necklaces are switched out for tank tops and sweat that rolls down your face and neck... he hears nothing but the pumping of blood up the jugular vein, your panting after a hard day's work, the frustrated growl when your procrastination gets the better of you. you know mydei can help with that, right? just follow him to his room, focus only on the deep and satisfied groans he lets out at the exquisite taste of your blood. how could he resist when your fingers splay over his back or when your nails dig in to his strong shoulders? how could he resist when the taste bursts upon his tongue like the pomegranates he oh so adores?

bladie is a tsundere, for lack of a better word. he loves the attention you give him, but rarely do you get more than a hitching of his breath or a stutter in his words when you're looking. unfortunately for bladie, the red in his warm cheeks give him away every time, no matter if it's from you feasting/feeding from his thighs or purring lewd promises into his sharp ears. he may look away and scoff some nonsense about how you simply must stop this perverse routine, but you know better. you know bladie better than he thinks, so you know that he loves when you spoon him, attention only on him as you feed only on him, speak only to him.

dan heng is an equal, truly. you share glasses together in the cool breeze of a summer's evening often, and neither of you feel a wanting for more. it's comfortable living with him in your life: there is no hunger, for blood nor food, there is no yearning when your love is but a mere room away. human or not, dan heng there for you just as you are for him: a bared neck to feed from, a glass of blood to share in slow kisses, a wonderful lap warmer if he feeds from you.

𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔 - 𝒑𝒕. 𝟐

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Subby! Mydei, Subby! Blade, Subby! Dan Heng (separate), no gendered terms for reader, vampire! AU, blood and biting, a mix of fluff and smut for Blade's and Dan Heng's parts, brief mention of a handjob (reader giving) in Dan Heng's part, lmk if I missed anything! ꩜ A/N: MORE VAMPIREPOSTING YAHOOOO! about 1k to be exact. this one is a lot more errr fluff and feelings than I expected it to be, I think mydei's one is the raunchiest one while dan heng's is the fluffiest one (there's still smut ofc dw) HOPE THIS IS NICE orz... I don't know if I'm that good at writing more intimate feelings fluff content >< ꩜ Adjoining Rooms: Part 1 (Childe, Kaveh, Diluc)

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟓: 𝑴𝒚𝒅𝒆𝒊 ꒷꒦ Human!Reader x Vampire!Mydei ꒦꒷

Mydei always has something to look forward to when he's around you, regardless of the climate or season

If it's a colder day and you have a turtleneck or a scarf on to keep the chill out, he can't wait until the both of you are back at home, where the temperatures are perfectly nice and cozy. Indoors, it's finally warm enough that you can shed the layers you've been bundled in (by none other than your sweet Mydei for the fear of catching a cold). The both of you settle in for the night after a day outside and he, at last, has unfettered access to teasing and biting at your neck. Alternating between mischievous nips along where your pulse bounds the hardest and heated kisses pressed to your skin, Mydei can't get enough of you at all,,,,

Warmer days. You've said it all pulpie!! Urgh can you imagine him soothing you over your frustration (the unbearable heat of the daytime definitely didn't help your mood). Mydei's nothing but honeyed affection as he leads you to your shared bedroom. He already has everything prepared on a side table. Curiously, a goblet of pomegranate juice is there too, a vibrant scarlet. Temptingly, he sets himself onto your lap before he helps himself to the feast at the crook of your neck, laving over the area first, only then does he bite down. You get to hear his breathy pants right next to your ear, groaning low at the taste of you on his tongue. Then suddenly, he licks over the puncture mark one last time before pulling back. Your confusion only doubles when he grabs the goblet and tips it until the red is spilling over from his clavicle down down down way past his torso. He guides your head over to his neck, mirroring his position earlier. You can hear the rising hunger in his voice.

"Don't you want to see just how sweet I can be for you too? Go on, bite down."

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟒: 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Human!Blade ꒦꒷

He gets so blushy when you ask him to keep his legs apart so that you can drink from his inner thighs ("Surely there's somewhere less... perverse." A lot of talk for someone who's not kicking you away.)

His muscles jump when he feels your lips brush across the sensitive zone there, a hand caressing up his calf as if to rile him up even more. As you lean in again to sink your fangs in, all his senses hone in onto those two points.

"I swear, ah, this is the last... time I let you- hah... do this to me!"

(Your Bladie has said this many many times before in the past. How many times has he unwrapped the bandage around his right thigh for you? How many times have you caught him staring breathlessly at you when you feed from him?)

But there's also something so indescribably intimate about the whole ordeal, regardless of how repetitive it has gotten. Your eyes flick up and catch his hand fisting and toying with the sheets beneath him. Time to wrap mealtime up for now.

You leave a trail of kisses from the side of his calf up to where you were drinking from. Then, you shift your body so that he rests comfortably in your arms. With this arrangement, you're even more aware of the thundering pace of his heartbeat when you're pressed closely to him. Taking one of his hands into yours, you entwine your fingers, thumb idly tracing circles on the back of his palm

Cooing praises into his ears, fond amusement fills you as you watch the tips of his ears turn even more pink. He scoff under his breath but he doesn't move to pull away from you

The hand in yours squeezes tight, promising not to let you go, so you have to promise to do the same with him

🏷️𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝟎𝟎𝟎𝟑: 𝑫𝒂𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒏𝒈 ꒷꒦ Vampire!Reader x Vampire!Dan Heng ꒦꒷

Dan Heng feels like he got truly lucky to meet someone who complements him so well. He doesn't know how to explain it but he's in a sort of paradoxical state where he's so at ease and sated with you that he wants for nothing and everything at the same time

Whether you fill the silence in his room with lighthearted chatter, or the two of you simply work on your own projects in comfortable silence, Dan Heng can't help but smile softly whenever you're near him

On special occasions, you two like to share some glasses of blood. Over time, you've learnt each other's preferences, be it for blood type or food to pair it with. The breeze on his skin is nice as you spend the nighttime watching the stars, but he'd much rather stare at you instead. (If he could still blush, you'd note how rosy his cheeks are even in the dimmed lighting.)

There's no need to go through the whole awkward "I'm somehow a vampire" thing with a fellow vampire. You don't pry when he's not ready to reveal his past, and you listen when he does. He's infinitely grateful to have someone who gets him at such a personal level.

The both of you spend the nights in each others room rather often, he realises. This thought pleases him, his eyes curving up slightly into crescents while you're currently mouthing at his jugular, the sharp points of your teeth scraping across his skin but never breaking past it. A pleasant heat builds up in him when he feels your hand snaking from his chest, to his abdomen, and further down still. He grinds lazily against your palm, quiet moans slipping past his lips.

"What are you thinking about that's got you smiling like that?" You ask, incentivising him to answer with the promise of release as you swipe your thumb against the tip of his cock.

"You already know the answer to that," he rolls his eyes in faux exasperation, the arms he has around you hugs you closer to him, until he's able to tuck his face in a slot between the both of you.

"It's always just you."

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[omegaversereloaded]

feel free to interact with this poll like it's a regular post! nader says he doesn't mind as long as it's being shared :)

nader @abdalsalam2000 and his family's campaign has been vetted - please check out his blog! he and i also speak on whatsapp :) thank you for sharing!!

[deadpoets]

MAX VERSTAPPEN + SNOOPY ☆ for karen @dallaswinstons & lindsay @permanentreverie <3

[r-aindr0p]

Sneaking in

[colorful-horses]

Guys, I'll be honest, I may need to go on hiatus

[flux1563]

Seeking attention ft karina

Words :7k

Tags : squirt, titfuck, creampie

"You're not listening to me, Karina," groaned her friend Winter, her voice cutting through the buzz of the crowded cafeteria.

Karina's eyes snapped back to Winter, a hint of annoyance flashing across her face before she plastered on a smile. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said, you're not listening again," Winter repeated with a knowing look. "You've had your eyes on him all week."

"Him?" Karina played coy, but her cheeks betrayed a soft blush as they turned towards the figure Winter indicated—Y/N, the enigmatic scholar who sat at the corner of the room, nose buried in a book. His tall frame and chiseled features made him the center of attention without even trying, yet he remained oblivious to the whispers that followed him. "What about him?"

Winter rolled her eyes. "Come on, Karina. You can't ignore the fact that every guy in class wants a piece of you, but you're pining over the one who barely notices anyone exists outside of his textbooks."

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the start of another dreaded afternoon class. Karina's heart skipped a beat as she gathered her books, her thoughts racing. Winter's words echoed in her mind—everyone else saw her as the object of desire, but she only had eyes for the unattainable. The one who didn't seem to care about her curves or her smile. The one who was perfect for her, yet so out of reach.

As the students shuffled out, Karina took a deep breath, steeling herself for the challenge she was about to undertake. She had to get Y/N's attention somehow. She had to make him see her beyond her body. An idea began to form in her mind—she would ask him for help with her homework. It was a simple plan, but it was a start.

That evening, Karina found herself standing nervously outside Y/N's apartment, her heart pounding in her chest. She had sent him her address earlier in the day, hoping he wouldn't think it strange. The door creaked open, and there he was—his piercing gaze meeting hers, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

"Hi," she managed to squeak out, her voice betraying her nerves. "I, uh, I need help with my homework."

Y/N looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a curt nod, he stepped aside to let her in. "Follow me," he said, his voice low and even.

The apartment was small but meticulously organized. Textbooks and notepads lined the shelves, and a faint scent of coffee lingered in the air—a stark contrast to the chaos that was Karina's own living space. She followed him to a clutter-free desk, her eyes scanning the room for any personal touches that might give her a glimpse into his soul. But there were none, just the cold embrace of academia.

He sat down and gestured for her to take the chair opposite. "What do you need help with?"

Karina's mind went blank. The words she had rehearsed on the way over escaped her. "Everything," she blurted out, feeling like a fool.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corner of his lips. "Everything is a broad subject. Be specific."

Her cheeks burned as she opened her book to a random page, her thoughts racing. This wasn't going how she had planned. "Just...just math," she stuttered. "I'm really bad at math."

For a brief second, she thought she saw a flicker of something warm in his gaze before it was gone, replaced by the cold detachment she had come to expect from him. "Alright," he said, pulling out a notepad and pen. "Where shall we begin?"

And so, the night of tutoring began—a dance of numbers and formulas that Karina stumbled through, eager to impress him with her ability to learn. Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more she needed to do to capture his heart. Little did she know, the real lesson of the evening was just about to start.

Y/N's patience was unyielding, breaking down complex problems into bite-sized pieces that she could digest. His eyes never left her face, watching as she struggled, nodded, and finally, clicked with the material. It was as if he could see into her mind, understanding her thought process and gently guiding her to the right answers. The way he spoke—so calm, so certain—was like a balm to her frazzled nerves.

As the hours ticked by, Karina's mind began to wander. The way Y/N's fingers moved with precision across the page, the way his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as he concentrated, the way the light hit his sharp jawline—it all painted a picture of a man who was more than just intellect. He was a masterpiece of focus and discipline, and she found herself drawn to him in ways she hadn't anticipated. Her thoughts grew hazier, and the room felt hotter, her heart racing as she stole glances at his strong arms.

The math grew simpler, but the air grew thicker with tension. Each time their eyes met, there was a spark—quick and fleeting, but it was there. Karina's cheeks flushed, and she swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as she wondered if he felt the same. She tried to shake off the thoughts, telling herself to focus on the task at hand, but it was no use. The more he taught her, the more she found herself adoring him—not just for his brains, but for the way he made her feel seen.

Her bladder finally decided it had had enough of the emotional rollercoaster and interrupted her thoughts. "I need to go to the bathroom," she said, a bit too loudly, her face flushing deeper.

Y/N looked up from the book, his eyes briefly meeting hers before he nodded towards a hallway. "First door on the left," he said, his voice a bit gruffer than usual.

In the bathroom, Karina took a deep breath and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The idea that had popped into her head in the cafeteria now seemed silly and desperate, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she needed to do something drastic. With a shaky hand, she turned the faucet the wrong way, watching as the water spurted out and drenched her shirt. Her heart raced as she called out, trying to sound more panicked than she felt. "Y/N! Help, the sink's broken!"

The footsteps grew closer, and the door swung open. Y/N's eyes widened at the sight of her, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. "What happened?"

"I...I don't know," she lied, trying to look as flustered as possible. "It just sprayed everywhere." Water droplets clung to her lashes and trickled down her neck, her shirt clinging to her skin.

Without a word, he stepped in, his movements efficient as he turned off the faucet and began to mop up the mess. The tension in the room was palpable, and Karina felt her breath hitch as his arm brushed against hers. This was it—her chance to get closer, to show him she wasn't just a pretty face.

He handed her a towel, and she took it, her eyes never leaving his. The fabric of her shirt had grown translucent in the dampness, the lacy outline of her black bra visible beneath it. She knew he could see it, could see the curve of her breasts and the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

Summoning all her courage, Karina took a step closer, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out to him. Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, a soft brush of skin on skin, but as he didn't pull away, she grew bolder. She felt the towel drop from her hand as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Y/N's body stiffened for a moment, but then, to her surprise, he relaxed into the embrace. His hands found their way to her waist, holding her gently as he returned the kiss with an intensity that made her knees wobble. Karina's pulse raced as she felt his warmth envelop her, his scent overpowering the lingering smell of ink and coffee in the room. It was everything she had hoped for and more.

Breaking away, she whispered, "Just touch my breast, dear." Her voice was a breathy plea, her eyes searching his for any sign of rejection. For a moment, she thought he might push her away, that she had crossed a line she shouldn't have. But instead, his eyes searched hers, as if looking for an answer she hadn't given. Then, ever so slowly, his hand moved up, his thumb brushing the fabric of her shirt before sliding beneath to graze the sensitive skin of her collarbone.

"Ahh," Karina moaned as his hand finally reached its destination, cupping her breast gently. The feeling was exquisite, and she leaned into his touch, her breath hitching. His thumb traced lazy circles around her nipple, eliciting a whimper from her lips. The warmth of his hand seeped through her damp shirt, sending shivers down her spine.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N reached behind her and deftly unclasped her bra. It fell away, revealing her full, round breasts to the cool air. He took a step back, his eyes drinking in the sight of her exposed flesh. The look of amazement on his face was all the validation Karina needed—she was more than just a pretty face.

"You should be proud of yourself, Y/N," she murmured, her voice filled with passion. "Everyone in this university wants my body, but they can't have it because I've fallen in love with you."

Y/N's gaze remained locked on her, his expression unreadable, but his actions spoke louder than words. His other hand found its way to her other breast, kneading it gently as he bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth. The sensation was heavenly, and Karina's back arched as a soft moan escaped her. She had dreamt of this moment, of feeling his warm breath against her skin, his lips wrapped around her sensitive flesh. His tongue danced around the peak, flicking and suckling, sending bolts of pleasure straight to her core.

Encouraged by his responsiveness, Karina grew bolder. She reached for the button of his pants, her trembling hand slipping it free and pushing the fabric down just enough to reveal his thick, hard erection. She couldn't believe what she was seeing—nine inches of pure masculine beauty, the girth of it making her mouth water. "Oh, my god," she murmured, her eyes going wide.

Y/N's eyes snapped to hers, a mix of surprise and arousal. He didn't protest as she guided him to sit on the edge of the tub, his back against the wall. "What are you doing?" he breathed, but she could see the desire in his eyes.

"I never knew you had such an...impressive size," Karina said, her voice a seductive purr. She knelt before him, her eyes never leaving his as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, feeling the heat and power of him. "It's like you're holding a piece of the universe."

Y/N's cheeks colored slightly at her words, and he couldn't help the smug smile that tugged at his lips. "I've never had anyone...measure me up quite like that," he said, his voice thick with desire.

Karina's hand looked almost comical around his length, her fingers not even coming close to touching her thumb. "Look, my hand can't even wrap around it," she said, her voice filled with awe. "You're just too big."

Y/N's smile grew wider, a hint of pride in his eyes. "I've been told I'm...gifted," he said, the word rolling off his tongue with a hint of arrogance.

Karina couldn't help but laugh, the sound echoing through the bathroom. "Gifted is an understatement," she said, her hand still stroking him. "But I'm going to need two hands for this."

With a sly smile, she leaned in closer, her ample breasts pressing against his thighs. "Do you like it when my boobs wrap around you?" she asked, her voice playful and full of mischief.

His eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. "I...uh...yes," he finally managed to say, his voice strained.

With a knowing smile, Karina leaned in closer, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she began to move her body up and down in a rhythmic motion, her nipples grazing his shaft with every pass. The feeling was exquisite, and she watched with rapt attention as his expression grew more intense. Her breasts moving faster and faster around his thick cock.

"Karina," he gasped, his eyes squeezed shut as she worked him with her body. "I'm gonna cum."

"Cum on my boobs," she whispered, her voice a siren's call. "I wanna feel it on me, I wanna feel you in me."

The words were barely out of her mouth when she felt him tense, his hands tightening on her shoulders as he let out a deep groan. Warm, sticky cum shot out, covering her breasts and chest in a hot, pulsing wave. She moaned in pleasure, feeling the warmth spread over her sensitive skin. It was a sensation she had never experienced before, and she reveled in the power she had over him in that moment.

Panting, Y/N opened his eyes, looking down at her. His gaze was a mix of shock and lust as he took in the sight of her cum-covered breasts. "I've never..." he trailed off, unable to find the words to express his thoughts.

"It's okay," she murmured, standing up and reaching for him. "We're just getting started."

Their clothes discarded in a pile on the floor, Karina led Y/N to the bedroom, her eyes never leaving his. The air was charged with desire as they tumbled onto the bed, their bodies entwined in a passionate embrace. His hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and valley, worshipping her in a way she had never felt before.

He kissed her again, his tongue delving into her mouth as she straddled him, her wetness coating his stomach. His cock was still semi-hard, and she felt it nudge against her inner thigh, sending a thrill through her. She wanted more—needed more.

With a seductive smile, Karina slid off him and lay down on the bed, her legs spread wide. "Keep playing with me," she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper.

Y/N's eyes darkened as he complied, his fingers moving back to her swollen clit. He teased it mercilessly, circling and flicking, watching as she writhed and moaned beneath him. Her hips rose and fell, seeking the friction she craved, and he took the opportunity to glide his fingers down her body, tracing the path of her curves before returning to her core.

Her breath hitched as he pushed a finger inside her, feeling the warm, wet embrace of her pussy. It was tight and slick, and he could feel her muscles contract around him as he began to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm. He watched her face, memorizing every expression that played across her features—the way her eyes fluttered shut, the soft moans that escaped her lips, the way her cheeks flushed a deep pink.

He added another finger, curling them inside her as he continued to rub her clit with his thumb. Karina's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of holding back. "I'm close," she panted, her eyes squeezed shut. "So close."

"Cum for me, Karina," he urged, his voice thick with need. "Let go."

And with that, she did. Her body arched off the bed, a high-pitched scream tearing from her throat as she came, her pussy clamping down on his fingers. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before—intense and overwhelming. It was as if every nerve ending in her body was on fire, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her.

As her orgasm subsided, Y/N didn't give her a moment to catch her breath. He kissed his way down her body, his mouth finding her sensitive clit once more. He began to suck and lick with renewed vigor, his tongue swirling around the swollen nub in a way that made her hips buck against his face.

"Oh, fuck," she gasped, her eyes flying open. "Oh, oh, oh!"

Y/N felt the warmth of her climax flood over his face, a salty sweetness that only added to his own arousal. Karina's body convulsed above him, her legs trembling and her toes curling as she squirted like a fountain, her juices spraying across his cheeks and chin. It was a sight he had only ever seen in porn, but here it was, happening in real life. He lapped at her, eager to taste every drop, his cock pulsing with need.

Her body finally went lax, her breathing ragged and her skin glistening with sweat. Y/N sat back, wiping his face with the back of his hand, a look of wonder on his own. "I've never seen that before," he said, his voice filled with awe.

Karina giggled, a lightness to her tone that hadn't been there before. "I've never done that before," she admitted, a shy smile playing on her lips. "But with you, it just feels...right."

He leaned in, kissing her deeply, tasting her on his tongue. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer to him. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

The words sent a thrill through her, and she felt a newfound confidence bloom inside her. This wasn't just a physical attraction anymore—it was something deeper, something she hadn't even realized she craved. "Thank you," she whispered, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. But all she saw was desire—pure, unbridled lust that mirrored her own.

Without another word, Karina swung her leg over him, straddling his waist. His cock stood at attention, and she took it in her hand, feeling the weight of him, the heat and power of his arousal. She positioned herself over his tip, her heart racing as she lowered herself down. The first inch was tight, a slight burn that made her gasp, but she didn't stop. She wanted all of him—needed all of him.

Y/N watched with bated breath, his eyes never leaving hers as she took him in. His hands found her hips, guiding her, urging her to take more. She felt the head of his cock push against her tight entrance, and then with a sudden, desperate need, she slammed herself down onto him. The pain was there, but it was overshadowed by the pleasure—a white-hot spark that ignited within her.

"Ahh, you're so deep," Karina screamed, her voice echoing off the walls of the small room. His cock filled her completely, stretching her in a way that she had never felt before. She paused, panting, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so completely filled. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, she began to rock her hips, sliding up and down his length.

Y/N's eyes rolled back in his head, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. "You're so tight," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of not losing control. "So fucking tight."

Karina's nails dug into his chest as she took him deeper, her body moving in a rhythm that was both agonizing and exhilarating. Each time she slammed down onto his cock, she felt him hit a spot deep within her that no one else had ever reached. It was a feeling she had only dreamed of, a feeling that made her feel alive. "Ahh, so good," she moaned, her voice breathy and full of need.

Y/N watched her, his eyes dark with desire. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her muscles clenching as she grew closer to the edge. "Cum for me again, Karina," he ground out, his own release building.

Obeying his command, Karina raised her pace, her hips moving faster and faster as she chased the elusive orgasm. She could feel it building, the pressure growing until it was all she could focus on. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back.

Then it hit her—a wave of pleasure so intense that it stole her breath away. "Ahhhh," she screamed, her pussy spasming around Y/N's thick cock as she squirted against his belly. He watched in amazement as a gush of liquid spurted out, painting his stomach and chest with her essence. The sight was erotic, and he couldn't hold back anymore.

"Now it's my turn, Karina," Y/N growled, his eyes dark with need as he raised his hips to meet her thrusts. "Let's come together."

His words sent a jolt of excitement through her, and she eagerly leaned into his rhythm, her body moving in perfect sync with his. She could feel him swelling inside her, the heat of his climax building with every stroke. The room was a symphony of moans and skin slapping together, the sweet scent of sex hanging heavily in the air.

With a final, powerful thrust, Y/N buried himself to the hilt, and Karina felt his warmth flood her as he came with a roar "AHHHHHH". Her own orgasm crashed over her, a second wave of pleasure so intense it left her trembling. She threw her head back, her mouth open in a silent scream, as she felt herself squirt again. It was as if her body was claiming him, marking him as hers.

Collapsing onto his chest, Karina tried to catch her breath, her heart pounding like a drum in her ears. Y/N's chest heaved beneath her, his cock still hard and pulsing inside her. She felt the sticky warmth of their combined releases, the evidence of their passion smearing between them as she moved.

They lay there for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds in the room their heavy breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. The weight of his body was comforting, anchoring her to the world. The feel of his heart beating against her cheek was reassuring, a steady rhythm that matched her own racing heart.

Finally, Y/N pulled out with a groan, and Karina felt a sense of loss as his cock slipped from her. He rolled to the side, taking her with him, and they lay there, their limbs tangled together. She could feel his softening length against her thigh, the stickiness between her legs a constant reminder of what they had just shared.

The silence grew heavier, and Karina felt a twinge of nerves. What came next? Would this be a one-time thing, or had she finally broken through his icy exterior? She turned to look at him, his eyes closed, his face a picture of peace. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her with a softness she had never seen before. "For what?" he asked, his voice low and gruff.

"For making me feel...important," she said, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them. "For noticing me for more than just my body."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "You're more than just a pretty face, Karina," he whispered, his breath sending shivers down her spine. "Much, much more."

The words were a balm to her soul, and she nestled closer to him, her heart swelling with happiness. The night had started as a simple homework session, but it had turned into so much more—a confession of feelings she had never dared to hope would be reciprocated.

But as the reality of what had just happened sank in, Karina felt a flicker of fear. This was uncharted territory for her—she had never been with someone who valued her mind as much as her body. Would she be able to keep his interest? Would she be enough for him?

Y/N must have felt her tension, because his arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. "Don't worry," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "I've noticed you for a long time now. And I like what I see."

The words sent a shiver of pleasure through her, and she let herself relax into his embrace. For now, she was content to lay there, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking and the promise of what was to come.

But as the moments ticked by, Karina grew restless. She knew she couldn't just lie there forever—there was still so much to explore, so much more of him to experience. With a sultry smile, she rolled off of him, her body still sticky with their combined arousal. "Now get all on fours," Y/N said, his voice a command that sent a thrill through her.

Without a second thought, Karina did as he asked, her hands and knees sinking into the plush comforter. She felt his body shift behind her, the heat of him a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "What kind of stamina do you have?" she asked playfully, peeking over her shoulder at him.

Y/N's eyes never left hers as he lined himself up with her wet, pink opening. "Let's find out," he replied, a smug smile playing on his lips. With one powerful thrust, he pushed into her, filling her completely. Karina gasped "ahhh", the sensation of his thick cock stretching her was almost too much to handle. It was a feeling she had never experienced before—like a mix of pleasure and pain that left her breathless.

He didn't give her any time to adjust. Instead, he began to pound into her, his hips moving with a fierce, almost brutal rhythm. His hand found her hair, and he gripped it tightly, pulling her head back as he slammed into her again and again. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, making her toes curl and her nails dig into the bed. "AHHHH!" she screamed, the sound a mix of pleasure and surprise.

Karina felt herself stretching to accommodate him, her body adjusting to the relentless onslaught of his thick cock. It was a delicious pain, a feeling she had never experienced before. Each time he hit the deepest part of her, she felt an intense pressure that bordered on unbearable—but she never wanted him to stop. "Yes," she panted, her voice barely audible. "Harder, Y/N. Just like that."

Y/N complied, his movements becoming more forceful. He could feel her body tensing, her muscles clenching around him as she grew closer to climax. He watched her in the mirror, the sight of her bouncing breasts and arched back making him even more determined to push her over the edge. "I'm gonna squirt again," she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back as he whispered in her ear. "Do it, Karina. I want to feel you come all over my bed."

And with that, she did. Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her body with a force that made her see stars. Her pussy spasmed around him, gripping his cock like a vice as she squirted uncontrollably. The bed beneath her grew wet, the fabric soaking up her juices as they spurted out in a torrent.

Y/N's hand didn't stop moving, his palm connecting with her ass cheek with a loud smack. She yelped, the pain mixing with pleasure, sending another bolt of sensation straight to her clit. It was a delicious cycle—each spank making her cum harder, each orgasm making her more sensitive to his touch.

"Yess..." she gasped, pushing back into him. "Spank my ass, baby."

He complied with a smack that was harder than the last, and Karina's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth forming a perfect O of pleasure. "U like that, don't you?" he taunted, his voice a dark growl.

"Yes, I do," Karina moaned, her body begging for more. Each slap of his hand against her flesh sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, making her pussy clench around his cock.

"You're such a good girl," Y/N said, his voice thick with satisfaction as he continued to pound into her. "So responsive to pain."

The smacks grew more intense, each one sending a jolt of electricity through her body. Karina could feel the beginnings of another orgasm building, the pressure in her pussy growing tighter with every hit. "AHHHHH," she screamed, her voice raw and needy. "Y/N, I'm gonna cum again!"

He leaned down, his teeth grazing her ear. "Come for me, baby," he murmured. "Come all over my cock."

With a final, hard spank, Karina's body shattered into a million pieces, her orgasm consuming her completely. She screamed his name as she squirted once more, her pussy flooding him with her release. Y/N groaned, the feeling of her tightening around him too much to resist. He thrust into her one last time, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself deep inside her.

Their bodies went still, both of them panting and trembling with the aftershocks of their shared climax. Y/N leaned down, kissing her neck and shoulder before slowly withdrawing. Karina felt the emptiness acutely, a sudden coldness where he had been so warm and hard.

They lay there for a moment, their limbs entangled, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. Then, with a soft groan, Y/N rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she was nestled against his side.

Karina lay down beside him, her heart racing. She looked up at the ceiling, trying to process what had just happened. It was more than she had ever dreamed of—more than any of the fantasies she had concocted in her loneliest moments. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "For giving me an orgasm that no one else ever has."

Y/N's eyes searched hers, his expression unreadable. "It was nothing," he said, but the tenderness in his voice belied his words. He stroked her hair, his touch gentle and soothing. "You're welcome to come over for homework help anytime."

The room was quiet, the only sounds their breathing and the distant hum of the city outside. Karina felt a warmth spread through her, a sense of belonging that was new and exhilarating. "I will," she said, her voice filled with promise. "As long as you don't mind me...distracting you like this."

A smirk played on his lips, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "I don't mind," he said, his voice low and intimate. "In fact, I might just enjoy it."

With that, Y/N pulled her to her feet, scooping her up in his arms as if she weighed nothing. Karina giggled, her arms wrapping around his neck as he carried her back to the bathroom. The cold tiles against her back were a stark contrast to the warmth of their bodies, and she felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of what was to come.

He set her down gently, his hands sliding down her body to grip her ass. "Bend over," he ordered, his voice firm and commanding. Karina complied eagerly, her hands braced against the cool porcelain of the sink. She felt his cock nudge against her wetness, and she pushed back, eager for more.

Y/N didn't disappoint. With one swift motion, he plunged into her from behind, his cock filling her completely. Karina gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as she felt him stretch her open. He began to move, his hips slapping against her ass as he fucked her with a ferocity that left her trembling.

Each thrust was punctuated by a smack, his hand coming down hard on her ass cheek. The sound echoed through the bathroom, mingling with her cries of pleasure. "Oh, fuck," she moaned, her body writhing beneath his touch. "You're so rough."

"You love it," he grunted, his hand coming down again, this time harder. "You love it when I spank your pretty ass."

And she did. The sting of his hand only made her more aroused, her pussy clenching around him as she pushed back to meet each of his movements. The mirror in front of her was foggy with steam, their reflection distorted but unmistakable. She watched as he claimed her, his hand rising and falling in a rhythm that matched his strokes.

Her body felt alive, each touch a spark that ignited a fire deep within her. She could feel another orgasm building, the pressure in her core growing tighter and tighter with every smack. "Yes," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Keep going."

Y/N's hand never stopped moving, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. Karina's legs began to shake, her body on the edge of something she hadn't felt before. It was as if every nerve ending was alight, every inch of her skin sensitive to his touch.

And then it hit her—a climax so intense it felt like a supernova. Her pussy clamped down on him, her body convulsing as she screamed his name. He didn't stop, his hand never faltering, his cock plunging into her with a relentless pace. "Cum for me," he growled, his voice a dark command that sent shivers down her spine.

And cum she did, her pussy spasming around him as she squirted once again. Y/N watched in amazement, his own release building until he couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, brutal thrust, he came deep inside her, filling her with his warmth.

They stood there, panting and shaking, for a long moment. The only sound in the room was the dull thud of their hearts and the distant rush of the shower. "You're mine," Y/N murmured, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear.

Karina leaned back into him, her body still trembling. "Yes," she whispered, the word a declaration of ownership. "I'm yours."

Their bodies were slick with sweat, their breaths mingling as they held each other close. The world outside didn't matter anymore—all that existed was the two of them in that small, steamy room.

But eventually, the moment passed, and reality began to creep back in. "We should clean up," Karina murmured, her voice still shaky with the aftermath of pleasure.

Y/N nodded, his arms sliding from around her waist. He stepped back, giving her the space to stand up straight. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and concern.

Karina felt a blush creep up her neck as she turned to face him. She had never been so exposed to anyone before, not even herself in the mirror. But with Y/N, she felt a strange sense of vulnerability that was thrilling rather than terrifying. She watched as he grabbed a towel, his own body still flushed with arousal.

He wrapped the towel around her waist, tucking it in gently. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the bathroom. The cold tile felt good against her hot skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room they had just left.

Y/N turned on the shower, the water spraying hot and steamy. He stepped in, pulling her in after him. The water cascaded down their bodies, washing away the sweat and cum that had painted them both. He took a washcloth, his movements deliberate and tender as he began to clean her. The sensation of the cloth moving over her skin, combined with the warm water, was almost too much for her to handle. "You're so gentle," she murmured, her eyes drifting shut.

He didn't respond, his focus solely on her. He washed her thoroughly, taking his time to pay special attention to her breasts and pussy. His touch was soft but firm, as if he was afraid to break her. Karina felt her body responding to him again, her arousal building once more.

But she knew they couldn't go on like this forever. "We should get out," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're going to turn into prunes."

He chuckled, his eyes meeting hers. "You're right," he said, turning off the water. He stepped out first, grabbing two towels from the rack and handing one to her. They dried each other off, the silence between them a comfortable one.

Once they were both dressed again, Y/N turned to her, his expression serious. "I need to tell you something," he said, his voice low.

Karina felt a sudden knot in her stomach. What was it? Had she done something wrong? "What is it?" she asked, her voice small.

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching hers. "I didn't just do this because you're...beautiful," he began, his words tentative. "I did it because I care about you, Karina."

The confession was like a weight lifted from her shoulders. "I know," she said, her voice firm. "And I care about you, too."

He leaned in, his hand cupping her cheek. "I want us to be more than just...this," he whispered, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip. "I want to get to know you—all of you."

Karina felt a warmth spread through her chest. "I'd like that," she murmured, standing on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.

The kiss was sweet, filled with all the unspoken promises of a future together. When they pulled away, she knew that this was just the beginning. "Let's go back to the living room," she suggested, taking his hand. "We have the whole night ahead of us."

Y/N nodded, a smile playing on his lips. "I've got an idea," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "How about we start with a movie?"

They settled onto the couch, their bodies still humming with the aftermath of their passionate encounters. Karina curled up against him, feeling more content than she had in a long time. The TV flickered to life, but neither of them really watched it. Instead, they talked—about their hopes, their fears, their deepest secrets.

And as the night grew darker outside, their bond grew stronger, weaving a web of trust and desire that neither of them wanted to break. For the first time in a long time, Karina felt truly seen—not just for her body, but for the person she was inside.

Y/N pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her in a fierce embrace as they lay down on the bed, their limbs intertwined. The scent of their lovemaking still lingered in the air, a potent reminder of the passion that had just transpired between them. Karina's heart fluttered in her chest, the feeling of his naked skin against hers both familiar and new.

The sun had just begun to peek through the blinds, casting a soft glow across their entwined bodies. The light danced across Y/N's features, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the softness in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss her, a gentle pressure that spoke of affection rather than lust. Karina felt her heart melt a little more with each brush of his lips.

"We should get ready," Y/N murmured, reluctantly breaking the kiss. "We don't want to be late for class."

Karina groaned, burying her face in his chest. "Just five more minutes," she begged, her voice muffled. But she knew he was right—they had to face the world outside of this cocoon of intimacy.

With a sigh, they both sat up, the cold air of the room hitting them like a slap in the face. Karina watched as Y/N stood, his cock still semi-hard and glistening with their combined juices. The sight made her stomach flutter, and she couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled as he reached for his boxers.

They dressed quickly, the act of putting on their clothes almost mundane in comparison to the intensity of the night before. But even as they stepped into the crisp morning air, Karina felt a newfound lightness in her step.

They walked together to the university, her hand in his, their bodies close enough to feel the heat of each other. As they passed other students, she noticed the glances thrown their way—a mix of surprise and envy. Y/N had always been the quiet, brooding genius, and she had always been the flirty, popular one. But now, they were something more—something she hadn't even known she wanted.

Men's eyes followed them, lingering on Karina's curves and the way she leaned into Y/N. They whispered among themselves, their voices filled with disbelief. "How did he get her?" she heard one of them murmur, the words sending a thrill through her.

Y/N seemed oblivious to the attention, his focus solely on her. He held the door open as they entered the lecture hall, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. Karina couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, a swell of happiness that he was hers—at least for now.

As they took their seats, she couldn't stop herself from laying her head on his shoulder, her hand wrapping around his arm. He tensed for a moment, then relaxed, his hand coming up to squeeze hers. It was a silent declaration, a promise that no matter what the day brought, they had each other.

The professor droned on about calculus, but Karina's mind was elsewhere. She was lost in the sensation of Y/N's warmth beside her, the feel of his muscles shifting as he took notes, the way his eyes would occasionally flicker over to hers. It was as if their night of passion had forged an unbreakable bond between them, a connection that went beyond the physical.

But she knew it wasn't all rainbows and butterflies. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed, and she couldn't help but wonder how it would affect their dynamic outside of his apartment. Would he still be cold and aloof in class, or would he treat her differently? And what about the other students—would they whisper and gossip?

Karina pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on the steady beat of Y/N's heart beneath her ear. For now, she was content to bask in the warmth of his presence, to revel in the knowledge that she had managed to crack open the shell of the enigmatic student she had been pining for so long.

The rest of the world could wait—for now, all that mattered was the here and now, and the promise of what was to come.

---

Winter's words played on a loop in Karina's mind as she sat in class, unable to focus on the lecture. "I think you got what you wanted, Karina," Winter had said, her voice filled with a knowing smile. "Tell me your stories." Winter's curiosity was palpable, and Karina felt a blush creeping up her neck as she thought of the tales she could now share.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night before, the way Y/N had looked at her with such intensity, his eyes dark with passion. It had been more than just a physical connection—it had been a meeting of minds, a melding of souls that had left her feeling both exhausted and invincible.

Karina leaned back in her chair, her eyes glazing over as she remembered the feel of Y/N's cock sliding into her, the way he had filled her so completely. It had been more than just sex—it had been a declaration of intent, a claiming that she had never experienced before.

But Winter was waiting, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Karina knew she had to tread carefully, to choose her words wisely. After all, this was new territory for her—how did you explain to your best friend that you had not only slept with the guy you've been crushing on for months but had also managed to break through his stoic exterior?

---

"So, what happened?" Winter asked eagerly as they met up for lunch, her eyes wide with anticipation. Karina took a deep breath, her heart racing as she recounted the events of the previous night. Winter's jaw dropped, her eyes never leaving hers as she listened to the details of their steamy encounter.

"You've got to be kidding me," Winter whispered when Karina finished, her voice filled with awe. "You actually did it. You got him to crack."

Karina couldn't help the smug smile that played on her lips. "It wasn't easy," she admitted, "but I think I've figured out the trick."

"Well, spill it," Winter said, leaning in. "I want to know everything."

Karina took a sip of her soda, her mind racing with the memories of Y/N's gentle touch, his fierce passion, and the way he had made her feel. "You just have to be...persistent," she said finally. "And vulnerable. He's not like other guys—you can't just throw yourself at him and expect him to catch you."

Winter nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "So, you had to show him that you're more than just a pretty face," she mused. "That you actually care about him, not just his body."

Karina nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her. "Exactly. And once he saw that, he couldn't resist."

The cafeteria buzzed with the chatter of students, but the two of them sat in their own little bubble, lost in their conversation. Winter's eyes were filled with admiration, and Karina felt a sense of pride that she had managed to do what no one else had.

[daftpatience]

the shirts arrived!!!!

i'm so happy with them 🥺 there's only a few extras from this order and i'm debating bringing them to kfx or harumatsuri. hum hum

[smutoperator]

Wild Ride

Baek Jiheon, Lee Chaeyoung x Male Reader

Tags: a very bright smile, anal, ass licking, blindfolds, CMNF, (lots of) facefucking, facial, floor sex, free use, girlfriend, master, motorbike, pussy eating, rimming, (very) rough sex, slapping, squirting, standing sex, threesome, voyeurism

Word count: 6067

Happy Jiheon Day!

Jiheon loves to smile. And since today is her birthday, she's got even better reasons to do so. She gets herself ready, tying her hair up and looking at her beautiful honey smile in the mirror.

Jiheon gets herself dressed as she waits for one of her groupmates to arrive. She promised her a wild ride for today, so the young maknae is quite anxious and craving to see what her groupmate is talking about.

Jiheon walks to the door of her house, where her friend is there to greet her. Chaeyoung appears with a beautiful look, taking her helmet off as she gets out of her motorcycle.

"Are you ready for a wild ride, Heonie?" Chaeyoung asks her young groupmate. "Sure," Jiheon asks, showing her cute smile one more time as she gets ready to ride alongside her friend. After a few minutes, Chaeyoung takes her to the house she set everything up.

Chaeyoung blindfolds Jiheon and starts teasing her as soon as they arrive at the house, giving her young friend some kisses. "What are you hiding from me?" Jiheon asks her. "You'll see it soon," Chaeyoung answers.

Chaeyoung walks Jiheon down the hall, turning her around and caressing her friend. "Happy birthday, baby girl," she says. Jiheon smiles again as Chaeyoung kisses her. "Wait, what is this, unnit?" she then asks as Chaeyoung gives a lick to her neck.

"Get on your knees," Chaeyoung commands Jiheon as she starts to strip herself. Jiheon can really hear the sounds as Chaeyoung takes her pants off and dives Jiheon's head towards her pussy. "What are you feeling, Heonie?" she asks her. "It's... Unnie's... pussy," she says.

"Good girl, I want you to lick it as your early birthday gift," Chaeyoung asks her. "S-sure," Jiheon obliges, putting her tongue between Chaeyoung's massive folds and enjoying it as her friend softly moans. "I wasn't expecting this type of fun," she says.

"We are just starting," Chaeyoung says as Jiheon savors her friend's wet folds. Jiheon quickly loses any shyness as she starts fingering Chaeyoung's pussy with ease. "Good girl, keep fucking that pussy," Chaeyoung commands. "Fuck yes," she then moans, enjoying Jiheon having fun with it.

"You're gonna make me cum; don't stop," Chaeyoung tells Jiheon as her moans get louder and louder. "Taste it," she commands as she sees Jiheon putting her fingers down her mouth to take her birthday rewards before going back to eat them out. "Oh shit, that's good. When did you learn how to eat pussy like that?" Chaeyoung asks. "Jiwon unnie taught me," Jiheon answers her.

Chaeyoung and Jiheon share some kisses as they hear some noise coming from the opposite room. You arrive and see them making out, already taking Jiheon from behind. "So this is the free-use slave you promised me, Chaeyoung?" you ask her. "Yes, she's all yours," Chaeyoung tells you.

Jiheon gives you her honey smile as you remove her blindfold. "Are you Chae's boyfriend?" she asks you. "Depends on the day," you answer her as you give Jiheon a few kisses. "My girlfriend's pussy surely tastes even better on you," you tell her.

You take your jacket off and take another look at Jiheon. "Look at me," you tell her. Jiheon pants as you give her pretty face a few spanks, her never ceasing to smile despite your beatings. Chaeyoung sits on the stairs, admiring the whole scene. "Hmmm," Jiheon moans.

"I'm going to give you a ride you're never going to forget. Now, turn around," you command Jiheon, pinning her against the door. "Look at that beautiful ass, ready to burst at any second from those jeans," you tell her, giving her a spanking before heading towards Chaeyoung.

"Take your clothes off and show us that ass," you command Jiheon, who does just as you ask. "Spread those cheeks for me," you tell her, Jiheon showing you the small gape in her ass. "You can do better than that," you tell her. "No, I can't; it's just this tiny," Jiheon answers you.

"Keep spreading it," you tell Jiheon, who tries to do it to the fullest. You grab Chaeyoung, choking your naked girlfriend before heading in Jiheon's direction and pinching her cute pair of tits. Jiheon moans but still smiles as you kiss her and drop her on her knees, Jiheon reaching towards your pants.

"You want that cock, don't you?" you ask Jiheon. "Yes," she answers with another smile. "Well, it's your birthday today, so I think you're ready to blow some candles," you answer her, just pulling the zipper of your pants and staying clothed as your thick meat pops out of it.

Jiheon slowly bobs her head on your cock, Chaeyoung watching as she tries not to get jealous of her young groupmate. "I don't want to take it slow today," you tell her, grabbing Jiheon's face and plowing it in front of your girlfriend. Jiheon takes it like a champ, you spanking her ass as she clings to your cock. You pop out and then swing it on her face before giving her another round of rough face-fucking.

"That's right, you can take it with ease," you tell Jiheon, grabbing her neck as she gives you a hungry smile, aiming for your balls, and then licking your shaft from top to bottom. You enjoy what is the cutest blowjob, her moving quite fast. "Don't stop, don't stop," you tell her.

"I'm suspecting someone must have taught you how to suck cock," you say to Jiheon. "Let me find out," you continue as you move upstairs towards Chaeyoung and start fucking your girlfriend's face really hard. Chaeyoung knows you like it rough, but even she is surprised by how fast you hammer your cock down her throat, giving her not an inch to breathe.

"Ahhhh," Chaeyoung moans as she gags on your cock, you hitting her face soon after. You move downstairs and repeat the rough facefucking with Jiheon, enjoying treating their throats like fleshlights. "That's good, open it," you tell Jiheon. "That's my good girl," you say to her as Jiheon gets back up and starts stroking your cock really hard.

"Do you want me to use you like a toy?" you ask Jiheon as you lick her neck. "Yes, please, ahhhhh," she says as she starts moaning. Jiheon once again smiles at you.

"Turn around," you tell Jiheon, quickly sticking your cock in her pussy. "Damn, it's so tight, let me stretch it out," you tell her. "Oh my God, yes, give it to me," she begs you as you quickly hammer your cock at full speed in her honey hole, Jiheon spreading her cheeks to take the intense heat you deliver to her from the get-go.

"Oh my God, fuck, AHHHH, you're gonna make me cum, YES, YES, SHIT," Jiheon screams. Chaeyoung is just watching as she can't help but feel a little jealous. "What do you say?" you ask Jiheon. "Thank you, master," she tells you, smiling one more time.

You lift Jiheon's right leg and push your cock back in her pussy. "Your body is incredible," you tell her. "Holy shit, fuck me hard, yes please," she begs you as she gets pinned against the door, you printing your big hands in her sexy ass. "You're gonna make my pussy fucking cum, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams, feeling a burning heat in her pussy she never did before.

"AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH, BABY, FUCK," Jiheon screams loudly, you pulling out and choking her. "You're enjoying this too much," you say to Jiheon as you bring Chaeyoung into the mix. "Get down and eat her out," you tell your girlfriend, who obliges and does to Jiheon what her younger friend had done to her earlier.

"Tell her you're a good girl while she eats you out," you command Jiheon. "I'm a good girl," Jiheon says, stroking your cock as Chaeyoung makes her moan down below. You hit her honey face countless times, enjoying making it red. "Wanna see how a proper submissive slut behaves?" you ask Jiheon as Chaeyoung now gets completely on her knees and starts worshipping your balls, her hot body sliding between your legs as she enjoys tasting her friend's pussy.

"Heonie tastes so delicious in your cock," Chaeyoung tells you as she takes it deeper in her mouth. Jiheon herself gets on her knees, both girls fighting to see who worships your cock the best. "Good girls," you tell them, Jiheon engulfing your cock and snatching it from Chaeyoung.

"You know where to fucking spit it," you say to Jiheon as she pulls your cock out of her mouth and spits on Chaeyoung's face. You reward her with another good facefuck, your shaft rubbing against Chaeyoung's face.

"Let me reward you for being such a good girl," you tell Jiheon as you make her turn around. "You know where I want it," you say to her. "You want it in my ass, my birthday cake, don't you?" she asks you, spreading her cheeks and smiling at you. "Perfect guess," you tell her, teasing her butthole before sticking it on it.

"Oh my God, oh shit, it's so fucking big in my ass, oh yeah, baby," Jiheon moans as you pump her ass hard, making her almost lose her balance. "OH SHIT, YES, YES, YES," she screams. "Come on, come on," you tell her, spanking her ass. You take your belt off, wrapping it around her neck as you get rougher and rougher with her. "OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH SHIT," she screams as she gets pounded hard. "You wanted to be a fucktoy; that's what you're going to be," you tell her.

Jiheon loses her breath as her quick anal session comes to an end, her fingers on her pussy as you let Chaeyoung taste the birthday girl's ass. "How does that butthole taste?" you ask your girlfriend, who bobs her head like crazy on your cock. "Like honey," she answers, moving faster as Jiheon comes in her direction and gives Chaeyoung some taps to her pussy.

"Oh damn, that's so fucking hot," Jiheon says as you shove your cock balls deep in Chaeyoung's mouth. "Look how hungry she is for your ass," you say to Jiheon as you pull your cock out of your girlfriend and start taking your clothes off while they kiss each other and share some spit, Jiheon rubbing it all over Chaeyoung's body.

"Now your next test will be getting my cock wet for my girlfriend to bounce on it," you tell Jiheon, who quickly dives under your balls, Chaeyoung lining up behind her to taste her friend's still sore ass. "You're obsessed with that ass, baby girl," you tell your girlfriend. "Don't stop, keep going," you tell Jiheon as you fuck her face while Chaeyoung spanks her ass.

"Damn, you're doing a good job; keep fucking sucking that cock," you tell Jiheon as she deepthroats your cock to the maximum. "She's such a fucking whore," Chaeyoung says as she enjoys her friend's face getting plowed. "Take that cock, show him the whore you are," Chaeyoung tells her.

You drop to the floor, letting Jiheon and Chaeyoung worship your cock together as they fight for every inch of it. Chaeyoung licks it up and down from your balls, while Jiheon sucks your tip and takes it down her mouth. The two girls share kisses as they move all over your shaft, Jiheon sitting on your face and grinding on it. "Lick that pussy," Chaeyoung says as she jerks your cock off, and then both lick it like ice cream in perfect sync.

"You're the luckiest man in the world right now, baby boy," Chaeyoung says as you enjoy Jiheon's wet folds while she deepthroats your cock. "Getting it very wet for my cunt to bounce on it," she says, adding some extra spit, before letting Jiheon have some fun with your cock as you two team up to eat her out, your girlfriend in her ass, you in her pussy.

"Seems like you've eaten that ass quite a few times before dating me," you tell Chaeyoung as she aggressively sticks her tongue up Jiheon's honey butthole and kisses you before spanking her ass. "Yes, I did," Chaeyoung says as she tells you to worship Jiheon's pussy.

Chaeyoung climbs on top of you, Jiheon sucking her perky tits. "I want to feel this fat dick inside my tight little pussy," she says, taking it slowly down it as she gets ready to bounce on your cock. "Let me tease that little fucking pussy," she says, before she starts riding. "Oh baby, oh yeah, I love that cock, fuck," she moans, meeting your thrusts with a spinning ride.

"Right there, baby, right in my tiny wet little pussy," Chaeyoung commands as she bounces faster up and down your cock. Jiheon comes in, spitting in her friend's pussy and rubbing Chaeyoung's clit as she rides. "Oh yeah, I'm so fucking wet," she says as Jiheon licks her tits and you reach to grope them.

"Let me taste that pussy," Jiheon commands as she pulls your shaft out of Chaeyoung's cunt for a bit. "That's good, make that cock nice and wet for me," Chaeyoung says as Jiheon takes it back, Chaeyoung spinning all over your cock. "I own that cock, baby; it's all mine. It feels so fucking good in my pussy," she says, Jiheon licking her pussy while you grope Chaeyoung's dick.

"I love it so much, I can't stop bouncing on that fucking cock," Chaeyoung says. Soon, you start thrusting upwards and clapping her cheeks, making her tits bounce. "That's it, baby, oh fuck," she moans, putting a stop by letting Jiheon taste it. "I want to cum all over that pretty big fucking dick," Chaeyoung says, going back to bounce as you reach to finger her clit and keep pumping her cunt.

"Ride that dick, yes, baby, use my cock," you tell Chaeyoung as she starts aggressively grinding on it, pressing her hands against your chest. "AHHHHH, FUCK," she screams loudly.

"Oh yeah, your fucking cock is so big, it stretches my tiny little pussy so god," she says as you pump up. "GIVE IT TO ME, I LOVE IT, FUCK, FUCK," she then screams, alternating between spinning on your cock and giving it very aggressive bounces. "So good, so, good," she says as she kisses you.

"FUCK BABY, FUCK, AHHHHHHH, THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT, YOU MAKE ME FEEL SO GOOD, OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung screams loud as your balls clap against her skin. "RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE, FUCK, I'M GONNA CUM, AHHHHH," she screams, her legs trembling while she rides you. "Yes, baby, use my cock whenever you want it," you tell her, spanking your girlfriend's ass and then pumping upward as you bring Chaeyoung to orgasm.

"I love that fucking dick; let me taste that pussy now," Chaeyoung says as she climbs off your cock to do some tasting alongside Jiheon. "It tastes so delicious," you tell her.

"Wanna bounce on it too, Heonie?" Chaeyoung asks her groupmate as she guides Jiheon towards your cock. "Yes, unnie," Jiheon says. "Let me watch you ride that big dick then," Chaeyoung says.

Jiheon bounces her pussy hard on your cock. "Enjoy every second of it, Heonie," Chaeyoung tells her as she kisses you romantically. "Look at that slut, you're really fucking her good," Chaeyoung tells her. "Your cock tastes delicious inside that beautiful fucking pussy, baby," Chaeyoung says, pushing Jiheon down your big shaft. "OH GOD," the young girl moans, trying to go fast.

Chaeyoung and Jiheon share some kisses as Jiheon bounces faster than ever. "AHHHH, AHHHH, AHHHH," she moans, Chaeyoung closely watching as she sucks her young friend's tits, before rubbing her clit and making things harder for Heonie. "That's good, please, rub it harder, FUCKKK," Jiheon says, losing her breath and clinging to Chaeyoung as she tries to keep bouncing on your cock. "Faster, faster," Chaeyoung says.

"I love watching you fuck her," Chaeyoung tells you as Jiheon shares kisses with you, her pussy queefing. "Keep going, Heonie, cum all over that big fucking cock, take it, it's all yours," Chaeyoung says, spanking her ass before Jiheon pulls out. "Let me taste that wet cock," she continues.

"Come here, Heonie, taste your fucking pussy," Chaeyoung says as both girls take on your shaft, Jiheon going all the way down your balls. Chaeyoung gets to the floor and puts herself on a spooning Jiheon. "Lick that asshole; we're going to start the real fun now," she commands the youngster, who obliges and starts spitting on Chaeyoung's ass before licking and putting some fingers down your girlfriend's butthole, spreading it out.

You soon join the fun, licking Chaeyoung's legs and making them tremble so hard she squirts all over your face. "OH MY GOD," she screams as she coats your face with your juices. "You make me so wet," she says again as you hand your cock to Jiheon, who guides your cock towards your girlfriend's asshole. "Oh my god, oh my God, baby, be gentle, I wanna be your Barbie doll," Chaeyoung says as you start fucking her in the ass, Jiheon's tongue all over her pussy as you give her slow thrusts.

"Let me taste your asshole," Jiheon says, stealing your cock from Chaeyoung to give it some spits. "I like that," Chaeyoung says, you pumping her ass hard. Jiheon enjoys taking your cock occasionally to enjoy the taste of her friend's ass. "Please, put it back," Chaeyoung begs as you drill her asshole, her licking Jiheon's pussy while she gets fucked.

"OHHHH, OHHHH, OHHHHH," Chaeyoung moans as Jiheon grinds her pussy on her face. She lifts her leg, letting you take her ass deeper and deeper, Jiheon kissing her and muffling her moans as Chaeyoung's tight asshole squeezes your cock. You tease her gape a bit before attacking her backdoor harder than ever, Chaeyoung clinging to lick Jiheon's tits now. "OH BABY, BABY, BABY, THAT FEELS SO GOOD, HIT ME RIGHT THERE," she begs.

"OH, YOU FUCK ME SO GOOD, YES, YES, YES, BABY," Chaeyoung screams as you pick up that pace. "I WANT YOU TO MAKE ME CUM AGAIN," she tells you as you put quite the heat in her asshole, fingering her cunt alongside it. "GIVE IT TO ME, PLEASE, RUB THAT FUCKING CLIT," she says, you grabbing her clit and rubbing it. "You're so good, baby," Chaeyoung compliments you.

"I wanna cum all over that cock. I wanna cum all over that fucking cock. Give it to me," Chaeyoung begs. "I'm so fucking wet, your cock feels so good, I wanna feel every inch, you stretch that little asshole perfectly," she tells you. "Please, baby, can I cum all over your cock?" she asks you before giving a huge squirt shower right in Jiheon's face. "OH MY GOD," she loudly screams, making her friend all wet.

You grab Jiheon to take her her turn next on the floor. You take it much rougher with her, picking up right where you left off with Chaeyoung. "AH SHIT, OH MY GOD," she screams as you just put the tip up her butt. "What are you?" you ask her. "I'M A SLUT," Jiheon asks. "And what do you want?" you keep asking. "YOUR BIG FUCKING COCK IN MY ASS," she answers.

"Oh my God, please, give me that big cock in my ass, yes, yes, yes, baby, holy shit," Jiheon screams as she gets hammered hard in her asshole, Chaeyoung sliding between her legs to lick your balls as you pump her friend hard. "OH MY GOD IT'S SO FUCKING LONG, I'M GONNA CUM ON THIS DICK," Jiheon screams as her cheeks get loudly clapped.

"OH SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets pounded hard, you putting your right foot in her mouth to silence her screams. "Come on," you tell her, Chaeyoung enjoying as her friend's ass gets blasted at full speed. You grab your girlfriend's head, shoving it against your asshole for her to tongue it while you fuck Jiheon. "OH MY GOD, DON'T STOP, DON'T STOP, OH SHIT, BABY," Jiheon screams as she takes a huge pounding.

"That's what I want to see," you tell Jiheon as you briefly pull out of her ass, Chaeyoung quickly jumping to fill the void and diving to suck your cock. "You want more of that cock?" you ask Jiheon. "Yes, master," she promptly answers, fingering her clit. "Then cum for me," you tell her, Jiheon rubbing herself hard until she squirts.

"OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING," Jiheon screams as she squirts in front of you. "Get off this dick," you command Chaeyoung as soon as this happens, ready to give Jiheon one more round of your fury. "Oh shit," she moans, almost collapsing to the floor. "Give me more, give me more," she begs as you kiss her.

"Looks like my girlfriend is jealous, though; she wants to get destroyed first," you tell Jiheon as Chaeyoung tries to sit back on your cock. However, you want the cute little smiley maknae more than your slutty girlfriend now, making sure to punish Chaeyoung for jumping the queue.

Chaeyoung tries to bounce on your cock like always. "Oh shit, baby," she says. But Jiheon quickly starts rubbing her clit as soon as Chaeyoung tries, giving you the perfect opportunity to attack her ass unchallenged. "YES, FUCK MY FUCKING ASS, OH MY GOD, RIGHT THERE, RIGHT THERE," Chaeyoung screams as she simply gets ragdolled, your cock jackhammering her asshole like nothing.

"Cum for me," Jiheon says as she rubs her friend's clit, Chaeyoung just closing her eyes and taking a repeated pounding in her backdoor. "AHHHHH, AHHHHH, AHHHHH," she loudly screams. She tries to bounce, but you simply don't let her, attacking your girlfriend's ass like crazy as Jiheon spanks her tits. "FUCK THAT ASS, DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO ME," Chaeyoung loudly screams.

Jiheon slaps Chaeyoung's pussy and tits, sitting on top of her face as you push your girlfriend in your direction and give her a rough pearly gates pounding. "Oh my God," Jiheon says, baffled at the scene she's witnessing, your cock simply plowing Chaeyoung's ass at blazing speed while she rubs her friend's pussy, Jiheon wondering if you two are this wild having sex with each other every day.

"OH BABY, OH BABY," Chaeyoung moans as she gets drilled hard. "OH MY GOD, JUST TAKE CONTROL OF ME, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, THAT FEELS SO GOOD, OH BABY, YES, AHHHHH," she screams, your cock clapping hard against her ass. "YES, YES, YES, GIVE IT TO ME, FUCK," she continues to scream, fingering her cunt as your balls slap hard on her clit. "I LOVE THE WAY YOU FUCK MY ASS," she screams.

"Make her cum," Jiheon tells you, spanking Chaeyoung's tits as your girlfriend is now your free-use slut. "AHHHH, AHHHH, OH MY GOD," Chaeyoung screams, her legs hard up in the air as you just can't stop drilling her asshole. "AH, FUCK, RIGHT THERE," she screams. "Cum for me, cum for me," Jiheon says, Chaeyoung exploding in a squirt. "Oh my God, oh my God, you fuck that ass so good, you stretch me out so well," she says.

Jiheon takes your cock immediately to taste Chaeyoung's ass on it. You can tell Chaeyoung enjoyed being used like a ragdoll as she gives you her signature move of rimming your asshole after an amazing fuck. Jiheon is smiling at her as she bobs her head on your cock. "Hey, Heonie, let me get something too. I love tasting my ass; it tastes so delicious. I love slobbering all over it," Chaeyoung says.

"Looks like you want more," you say to Jiheon, fucking her face from down low as she throats your cock. "Come here," you tell her, turning Jiheon around with your cock pointing right to her backdoor. "Put that cock in my ass," she begs Chaeyoung, the two reversing roles as your girlfriend now takes on the mission of impaling Jiheon full of your meat.

"Right there," Chaeyoung says, licking Jiheon's cheeks as soon as she inserts your cock in her butt. "OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets pumped hard from the get-go. Chaeyoung watches from behind, licking your shaft and spanking Jiheon's butt as she gets pounded.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD THAT FEELS AMAZING, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon screams as she gets spanked and pounded. "OH MY GOD, YES, SPANK ME, she begs Chaeyoung, who hits her ass hard. "Look how much you love that big fucking cock in your ass," Chaeyoung says. "YES, OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM," Jiheon screams. "Hmmm, are you gonna cum all over my boyfriend's big cock? Looks like you're no longer an innocent girl," Chaeyoung says.

"Come on, cum on my cock," you tell Jiheon, Chaeyoung diving lower and sucking your balls. "OH FUCK, OH YES, I'M CUMMING, OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon says as she squirts all over your crotch. Chaeyoung savors your cock for a second, then quickly shoves it back in her friend's asshole. "HOLY SHIT, DON'T STOP," Jiheon begs.

"Pound that fucking ass like there is no tomorrow," Chaeyoung commands to you as you pump Jiheon hard, her body tilting a bit at each thrust. "That's so fucking hot, your girlfriend says, watching her friend turn into your anal cocksleeve in front of her. "OH FUCK YES, YOU'RE SO GOOD IN MY ASS," Jiheon screams. "Lick my girlfriend's ass," you command to her, Chaeyoung grinding her butt on Jiheon's face while you pound her friend.

"Lick my fucking ass," Chaeyoung says, pushing Jiheon's head against her butthole. You spank Jiheon's butt, who answers by spanking Chaeyoung's. "That's what I want to see, tongue my girlfriend's asshole," you command Jiheon, never ceasing to pump her ass hard at any second. "OH SHIT, OH FUCK," Jiheon screams as she cums all over your cock.

You wrap your arms around Jiheon, kissing her and giving her a little break. "Holy shit," I've never been fucked like this before," she says, out of breath as she sits on your lap, a very jealous Chaeyoung just watching you two have a little intimate moment.

"Keep going, baby, don't stop riding me," you tell Jiheon as she goes back to bounce her ass on your cock. "Fuck, it's so big in my ass," she tells you. "I know, but you can do it," you say to her, letting her bounce. "Oh, it's so deep," she says, you two kissing a little more.

"Come here," you tell Jiheon, putting her back on the floor as you and Chaeyoung kiss her. You go down to worship her pussy while Chaeyoung kisses her neck. "Oh shit, fuck, baby," Jiheon moans as she gets surrounded by both of you, Chaeyoung rubbing her tits as you get ready to make Heonie cum again.

"I wanna squirt all over his face," Jiheon tells Chaeyoung as you put a lot of heat in her pussy, her legs starting to tremble. "Isn't it good, Heonie?" you ask her. "It's about to get even better," you say, putting your cock back in Jiheon's ass for another round of rough spooning fuck.

"You're so fucking sexy fucking my ass," Jiheon says as you start slow this time, grabbing her butt and shocking her neck. "I want to be your cocksleeve," Jiheon says, Chaeyoung adding an extra spice as she lines up behind you to tongue your asshole between your thrusts in Jiheon's.

"Yes, baby, tongue that ass," you tell Chaeyoung. "Fuck, baby, yes, just like that, you're gonna make me cum again, AHHHHH," Jiheon screams as Chaeyoung's tongue in your ass gives you the motivation you need to attack her butt. As Jiheon cums, Chaeyoung deepthroats your cock before eating Jiheon's ass. "Oh my god, that shit feels so good," Jiheon says.

Chaeyoung gets back on top of you, and you get back on top of pumping her. "HARDER, HARDER, HARDER," she screams, Jiheon enjoying spanking your girlfriend's ass and turning it red as you make your girlfriend a cocksleeve one more time. "FUCK," Chaeyoung screams, you grabbing her body and thrusting even harder.

"YES, BABY, I'M YOUR DIRTY FUCKING SLUT," Chaeyoung screams as she gets pounded hard again. "AH, FUCK, BABY," Chaeyoung screams. "OH MY GOD, BABY, I'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST KEEP FUCKING THAT ASS. YOUR COCK IS SO BIG IN IT, AHHHH," she keeps moaning.

Chaeyoung spins on your cock as you slow down a bit before pumping her hard one more time. "You like that slutty ass so much, don't you?" she asks. "I CAN TAKE IT ALL, BABY, FUCK," she screams, her legs trembling as she squirts. "Damn, that looks so good on your ass," Jiheon says, rubbing her hands all over Chaeyoung as you pull out a little to kiss your girlfriend and spit on her face a bit.

"Put it back in her ass, there you go," Jiheon incentivizes you as you turn back into an animal as soon as your cock meets Chaeyoung's anal cavity again. "YES, YES, YES, YES, MAKE ME CUM," Chaeyoung screams, Jiheon staring at her with a sexy smile. "KEEP GOING, KEEP GOING, BABY," Chaeyoung says. "That's so fucking hot," Jiheon says, both sharing kisses as your thrusts finally come to a halt.

"My girlfriend's slutty ass needs some licking," you tell Jiheon, who promptly obliges and puts her tongue all over Chaeyoung's anus, the squirrel shoving Heonie's face against it, before climbing out of your cock and pushing Jiheon to bob her head on your dick.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," Chaeyoung suddenly moans as you put your hands in her cunt to make her squirt and make the floor even more slippery. Chaeyoung makes sure to push her gushing pussy close to Jiheon's face, gifting the birthday girl with a geyser of juices coming out of her horny cunt. "OH YEAH, RIGHT THERE," Chaeyoung screams just as she cums all over Jiheon's face.

Jiheon drinks Chaeyoung's squirt as you move in her direction for her to have her turn. "I want you to show me that honey in your pussy," you tell her, reaching between Jiheon's legs and massaging her insides. "OH MY GOD," she screams as she cums, losing her breath in the process.

"Cum all over my slutty girlfriend's face; she needs to be punished," you tell Jiheon, pinning her against the stairs handrail and rubbing her cunt for a second time, Chaeyoung now right below her friend's body, ready to receive another gush of squirt in her face. "FUCK, AHHHH, SHITTT, YOU'RE MAKING ME CUM SO FUCKING HARD," Jiheon screams as her juices cover Chaeyoung's face.

Jiheon can barely breathe after such an intense fuck session, so you give her a little break, turning your attention to your girlfriend as you get Chaeyoung on all fours. "Let me lick that ass," you tell her, lining up from behind and eating her out. "Oh baby, that's so good," she tells you.

"Stretch my ass one more time," Chaeyoung says. "Oh, fuck," she moans, her hole very sore after so much fucking. "Stretch it, stretch it, baby," Chaeyoung says, you grabbing her ass and letting her boobs bounce. "You like it?" you ask her. "I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, FUCK BABY," she answers.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Chaeyoung says as she moves her hips up and down. Jiheon takes a seat to watch, providing the saliva for you to fuck her. Jiheon puts her face on top of Chaeyoung's ass, you feeding her in between thrusts on your girlfriend. "Oh, fuck, baby, I love it," Chaeyoung says, moaning softly.

You fuck Chaeyoung's pussy a couple of times too, Jiheon licking her asshole and bobbing her head from time to time on your cock. "Her pussy is good, but she's really a buttslut," Jiheon whispers in your ear, you pushing your cock back in Chaeyoung's ass and letting her move her hips back and forth on your cock while Heonie watches. "Feed her," she tells you as you push your cock back in Jiheon's mouth.

"Fuck me like a little whore, baby, fuck me like a little slutty whore, that's it, baby," Chaeyoung begs. "YES, BABY, YES, LIKE THAT," she says as you increase the pace, her struggling after so much pounding. "Touch your pussy for me, I wanna see," you tell her. "TAKE IT, TAKE IT, BABY, FUCK MY ASS," she begs you.

Chaeyoung moves her hips a bit, but you quickly take control and spank her butt. "OH FUCK," she moans. "Such a pretty as you've got there, especially with my cock in there." OH BABY, OH BABY, OH BABY, FUCK ME BABY, GIVE IT TO ME, I LOVE, AHHHHHH," she screams as you hammer her ass harder than ever.

"I love being a dirty little slut for you," Chaeyoung says. "YES, THAT'S IT, THAT'S IT, MAKE ME FUCKING CUM ALL OVER THAT COCK," she begs. "OH MY GOD, YES, GIVE IT TO ME, GIVE IT TO ME, OH SHIT," Chaeyoung keeps screaming. You rub her clit a little bit. "You made me cum so much today," she tells you as you worship her pussy and make her squirt all over her face. "You're such a wonderful boyfriend, baby," she continues.

"Come here, Heonie, do you still have something to give me?" you ask Jiheon, pinning her against the door wall where it all began, her stroking your cock, her rubbing your clit while you choke her. "I wanna cum for you, just for you, baby," Jiheon says as she fingers her pussy hard and squirts again.

"Get on all fours on the stairs," you tell Jiheon, slapping her face as she follows your instructions. Soon, you mount on top of her and start drilling Jiheon like a raging bull, a wasted Chaeyoung watching. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH SHIT, OH FUCK BABY, HOLY SHIT," Jiheon can only scream.

"FUCK THIS COCK IS DESTROYING MY FUCKING ASS, YOU'RE GOING SO FUCKING FAST," Jiheon screams as you hammer her harder than ever before, her closing her eyes and just taking the extreme heat you give to her ass. "Open that ass for me," you command her, enjoying the massive gape your cock left on it.

Jiheon got fucked so hard she can barely walk, you pushing her back against the door for one more round of standing fucking where she can barely feel her legs, them getting more numb as Chaeyoung hits to finger her cunt. You fuck the cute Heonie like a fleshlight, her never ceasing to smile even as your cock goes absolutely berserk in her asshole.

"YES, YES, YES, RUB MY PUSSY," Jiheon begs Chaeyoung. "Get down," you tell her, Jiheon bending her head as Chaeyoung pops her face on top of her friend's ass, enjoying the extremely close view of the rough action. "OH SHIT," Jiheon screams, Chaeyoung sticking her tongue out as she watches her friend get destroyed.

"I want you to cum all over me so I can share it with your girlfriend," Jiheon tells you. "Then get down," you tell her, choking her and fucking her face hard, making it slam against the door as you push your balls deep in her throat. You do the same to Chaeyoung, Jiheon licking your balls as you try to fit them in your girlfriend's mouth.

You jerk your cock off in Jiheon's face, her giving you her typical honey smile as she waits for your cum. Chaeyoung rubs her clit as she waits for you to load in her best friend. Jiheon starts rubbing her clit in anticipation. "Happy birthday, Heonie. Now taste my honey," you tell her, Chaeyoung rubbing your balls being the final straw for you to ejaculate all over Heonie's face.

You blast so hard on Jiheon that your cum spills into the door, giving her nine massive loads in her face that make her give you the brightest smile of the day. Chaeyoung comes in and licks the cum from her friend's face, the two sharing kisses.

"That was fun," Jiheon said. "For sure, we should do this more often," Chaeyoung says. "So, master, what did you like the most about me: my smile, my pussy, or my ass?" Jiheon asks you.

"I can't decide."

[sertralineman]

wasn't tagged but i'd love to join sooo

S - Sleep by MCR

E - Eddie from Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack

R - Rockabilly Impending Deathfuture by Days N Daze

T - Thanks, Bastards! by Mischief Brew

R - Roots Radical by Rancid

A - Animal by Against Me!

L - Letter Home by Defiance, Ohio

I - I Never Told You What I Do For A Living by MCR

N - Never Trust a Man (Who Plays Guitar) by Wingnut Dishwashers Union

E - Empties by Pigeon Pit

M - Minor Threat by Minor Threar

A - American Jesus by Bad Religion

N - Nvr Pass by She/Her/Hers

@shoshialyakward (dont feel obligated though please) aaaand i dont know who else, join if u wanna :3

tagged by @helliswaiting ahh thank you 🫶

rules: pick a song for every letter of your URL and tag that many people

T-Taroko- August Greenwood

A-Anpanman- bts

K-Keelhauled- Alestorm

O-Oliolioxinfree- Sworn In

C- Cha Cha Cha- Käärijä

A-Arcadia- Lucifer

F-Fake It- Seether

E-Eyes Sewn Shut- Suicide Silence

Tags: @yanderepuck @wekillandwetake @otomedad @anakinfruit @floydsteeth @tangsweet @vivi-ships @lokis-laugh

[mssishipi]

taste of indulgence - sjy, pjs

CHAPTER 4 — SHOW ME SPICY

Avoidance was your only way to move forward, but Jay and Jake weren’t about to let you slip away so easily. How could you pretend you didn’t want them when your body told a different story? If you wanted to play stubborn, fine. But brats don’t get to run—they get put in their place. And they were more than ready to show you exactly what spicy really meant.

content tags: everyone is gay or fruity!!! angst! reader is self sabotaging, she made jake cry, jay is angry (and stressed), let's play back to friends by sombr, psych majors who don't know how to communicate, reader assume sunghoon's sexuality, reader cuts her hair short, jay's pov, sunoo is just sunoo.

explicit content (smut): uhm threesome (switch jake, rough mean dom jay, sub reader), dubcon!!! public sex, unprotected sex, humiliation (?), dacryphilia, rough throat fucking, cunillingus, jake tried to be angry but went soft, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration, creampie, anal sex (mxm). MDNI! WC: 21.5K

want a taste?

"I think red nails would look good on me, don't you think?" You flipped your hand over, inspecting your nails with a thoughtful look.

Sunoo barely glanced up from his phone before reaching out to grab your hand, tilting it side to side. "Hmm... Maroon, definitely. With silver designs," he decided with a nod.

"Almond shape?" you asked, watching his expression closely.

Sunoo furrowed his brows, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as he considered. "Square could work too... gives that classic, clean look. But yeah, almond is a solid choice. It'll look good when you're, like, casually reaching for things."

"Okay, I should set an appointment with the nail tech Wonyoung keeps talking about," you mused, already pulling out your phone. As you both walked past a full-length mirror in the store, you stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly to get a better look at yourself.

"Maybe I should cut my hair, no?" You ran your fingers through the strands, tilting your head as if trying to picture it. "Or maybe I should dye it? What color do you suggest?"

Sunoo looked up from his phone, finally giving you his full attention. His mouth was slightly open, eyes squinting as he observed you.

"I tried a new makeup style today," you continued, adjusting your reflection with your fingers. "I don't know if it suits me yet, but if I cut my hair, maybe it would. This length would be good, right?" You pointed just below your ears, mentally mapping out the bob cut you were suddenly considering.

Sunoo blinked, then gasped dramatically. "You're planning to get a bob cut, bitch? Are you fucking serious?!"

You raised an eyebrow at his tone. "What? You don't think it would look good?"

He placed both hands on your shoulders like he was about to shake some sense into you. "Do you have any idea what a bob cut means?"

You laughed, shaking him off. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Short hair on a hot girl?" Sunoo huffed, crossing his arms. "That's a crisis cut. A post-breakup cut. A someone just emotionally wrecked me and I need a fresh start cut!"

You rolled your eyes, but your smile faltered slightly. "Maybe I just want a change."

Sunoo wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms, his expression shifting into something more serious. "Yeah, right." He paused before adding, "By the way, Jake keeps texting me, asking when our vacant period is. He says you're not replying to them."

Your steps faltered, but you quickly regained composure. "I already told them I'm busy," you said, forcing a casual shrug. "Our internship is coming up next year, so I have to start networking now. I need professors to recommend me to the best hospitals—ones that actually offer jobs after the internship."

Sunoo narrowed his eyes. "That's a solid excuse, I'll give you that. But babe, you're literally ghosting them."

"I'm not ghosting."

"Bitch." Sunoo deadpanned. "You left them on read for two weeks."

"Because I'm not in the mood to fuck them anymore," you said flatly, resuming your pace.

Sunoo gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh my god. The coldness. The absolute heartlessness." Then, his voice softened. "Babe, you sound like a total bitch right now, but I know you. And I know there's a reason you cried that night."

You exhaled sharply, staring straight ahead.

"I'm your friend," Sunoo continued, his tone gentler now. "You can tell me if they hurt you. Did they do something? Say something? I mean, yeah, they're my friends too now, but you know I'll always have your back first. So tell me."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It's not like that. They didn't do anything."

"I just... I don't know, Sunoo." You stopped walking, running a frustrated hand through your hair. "I thought I could handle it. I thought it would be easy to keep things casual. But the longer I stayed, the harder it got. Now, it just fucking hurts."

Sunoo crossed his arms, watching you carefully. "You like them."

"Sunoo—"

"You like them," he repeated, this time with certainty. "Not just one of them. Both of them."

Your throat felt tight. "It doesn't matter."

Sunoo scoffed. "It matters if it's eating you up like this."

You swallowed, avoiding his gaze. "I was never supposed to catch feelings."

Sunoo let out a long breath, his expression softening. "You're human, dumbass. Not a fucking robot. It was bound to happen."

"It doesn't change anything." Your fingers clenched at the hem of your uniform. "It's just—fuck. I don't even know where I stand with them. I mean, they're sweet, they treat me so well. Who wouldn't fall for them?" You let out a bitter chuckle. "But that's the thing, isn't it? I don't know if it means anything."

Sunoo tilted his head, watching you carefully. "Have you told them how you feel?"

"What for?" You scoffed. "So I can humiliate myself? So I can hear them say, 'Oh, that's cute, but we never actually saw you that way'?" You let out a hollow laugh. "No, thanks."

Sunoo pursed his lips. "You don't know that's what they'd say."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back. "It doesn't matter, Sunoo. Because even if—if—they felt something, it wouldn't change the fact that I'm still just an extra in their relationship. They've had each other for years. I'm just..." Your voice faltered, and you forced a small smile. "Temporary."

"Babe," Sunoo frowned. "That's a really shitty way to look at it."

"Is it?" You met his eyes, voice quieter now. "Or is it just reality?"

Sunoo sighed, rubbing his temple. "I'm saying, maybe just tell them what you feel. Communicate—"

"No." You cut him off, shaking your head. "It's better to just move forward. Cut them off and be done with it." Your voice wavered, but you quickly steadied yourself. "As I said, even if they did feel something, it wouldn't change anything." You swallowed the lump in your throat, "I'll just consider them a hookup. That's all they were supposed to be anyway."

Sunoo huffed. "Look, babe. You wouldn't be spiraling over them, trying to change your hair, your nails, your entire damn life just to get away from the way they made you feel." He sighed again. "I get it. Feelings suck. But lying to yourself? That's worse."

You exhaled sharply, looking away. "It doesn't matter, Sunoo."

"It does matter." He poked your forehead. "And sooner or later, you're gonna have to face it."

Well, too bad because Sunoo didn't have a choice but to deal with your stubbornness. He had seen you shut down before, had watched you bury your emotions so deep that even you forgot they existed.

Avoidance was the only way. Cutting them off was the only way. If you ever told them the truth, it wouldn't change anything. If they did feel something for you, it still wouldn't matter. Because being together with two guys? It wasn't realistic.

Jake and Jay were perfect together—enough for each other. Their love was already deep, already established, already real.

You were just an afterthought, a temporary distraction, a spice added to their relationship to make things more exciting for a while.

That was why you had to let it go. Because holding on would only break you more.

Avoidance was the only option. But that didn't mean it was easy.

You shared three majors with them, which meant there was no real escape. Every time Jay or Jake tried to talk to you, you scrambled for a half-baked excuse, something—anything—to put distance between you.

And you felt guilty. Because at this point, you weren't just avoiding them, you were leaving Sunoo to deal with the fallout.

Every. Single. Time.

"Sorry, I already made plans to get my nails done," you said, forcing a smile as Jake grabbed your arm after your laboratory class, trying to pull you toward the arcade.

"We can just go with you!" Jake perked up immediately, his eyes practically sparkling at the idea. He turned to Jay, beaming. "Right?!"

Jay, as always, was quieter, but his gaze was on you.

You resisted the urge to sigh. "Uh—actually, I'm going with my other friends."

Beside you, Sunoo tensed, trying not to roll his eyes so hard they got stuck.

"Then Sunoo can go with you guys," you added quickly, shoving the attention onto him.

Sunoo's head snapped toward you so fast,  "Excuse me?" His expression was pure betrayal.

Jake blinked, tilting his head. "Wait. Sunoo's not going with you to get your nails done?"

"Nope!" Sunoo answered before you could. "Because I'll be with you guys. Losing all my money on rigged machines. Can't wait!"

He hooked his arms through Jake and Jay's, dragging them away before you could say another word. But not before shooting you a sharp, knowing look.

Avoidance was the only option, but it was hard.

It was almost funny, how desperately you were trying to erase them from your life, only for your own mind to betray you at every turn.

Jay's lips were always dry. Did he ever listen and start using the lip balm you recommended? Or was he still stubborn about it?

Jake had a terrible habit of not drinking enough water, always running on boundless energy until he inevitably crashed. You wondered if Jay kept that in mind—if he reminded him to drink more, if he handed him a bottle without a word, the way you used to.

Not your problem anymore.

"Your nails are so pretty!!!" Wonyoung screeched, grabbing your hand and turning it under the flashing club lights. The silver designs shimmered, catching every flicker of neon.

"Thank you," you muttered, tipping back your drink without hesitation. The alcohol burned down your throat, but you welcomed it. Anything to dull the edges. Sunoo sat beside you, talking how he wants to have sex tonight.

Another drink. Then another. By the time the rest of your friends arrived, your head was already buzzing, you can't even keep up with the conversation anymore. You laughed at the right moments, nodded when necessary, but your mind was elsewhere.

"Can you recommend a good waterproof mascara?" you mumbled, resting your head against Sunghoon's shoulder.

He exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed with your state. "I don't know? Maybelline, I guess? Or some Japanese brand—those are good too."

"You're gay," you giggled, voice slightly slurred.

Sunghoon scoffed, shifting slightly so you didn't slide off him. "How the fuck is that gay?"

"You just know things." You poked his chest, eyes drooping.

"It's called having sisters, dumbass," he deadpanned.

You giggled, the alcohol making everything funnier than it should be. "Hehehe, ever since you joined our group, you've had this, like... boy love energy."

"I'm not into boy love," he muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest. "Oh my god. You're homophobic."

Sunghoon choked on his drink so hard he nearly spit it out. "What?! Where the fuck did you get that from?"

"How are you not into boy love?" You slurred, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "Boy love is great. It's wholesome, it's cute, it's—"

Your voice cracked and your lips wobbled, remembering Jay and Jake. Suddenly, your eyes burned.

You sniffled. Sunghoon, who had been mid-rant about how you made no sense, suddenly froze. He stared at you, wide-eyed.

"Hey... are you—are you crying?"

You sniffled, waving a hand dramatically. "I miss them."

Sunghoon blinked. "Miss who?"

"Boy love!" you wailed, smacking the table. "Boy love is so cute! It makes me so jealous! Agh—fuck! How can you not like boy love?! I miss seeing some boy love, but it hurts seeing some boy love!"

"Bro, what the fuck are you talking about?"

You sniffled harder, rubbing your eyes aggressively. "It's so unfair. Why are they so perfect together? Why can't I just be happy watching them be happy?!"

Sunghoon, still utterly baffled, slowly turned his head, scanning the club for someone or anyone to deal with your mess. His gaze landed on Sunoo, who was currently twerking in the middle of the dance floor, hyping himself up with your other friends.

"It's really hard to avoid them," you hiccupped, wiping at your face with the back of your hand. "I miss them."

Sunghoon let out a slow breath. "Uh-huh."

"I'm making the right decision, right?" you asked, eyes wide and desperate, like you were begging him to validate your self-sabotage.

He scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh... yeah?"

"Yes," you repeated, sniffling. "I'm right. They'll stop. They'll forget me. They'll live happily ever after."

Sunghoon nodded again, then you let out a wobbly sigh. "I will also forget about them," you declared, before promptly bursting into tears again.

You wiped your nose aggressively. "I'll just go back to my old self. No more stupid feelings, no more heartbreak, no more—no more them."

He gave you a cautious thumbs-up. "Sounds... healthy."

"I'll just masturbate with my vibrator," you continued, completely ignoring him. "At least my vibrator doesn't make my heart hurt."

Sunghoon groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ."

"Women can over-complicate things, and that's because they go deeper—sometimes too deep, admittedly."

Yes. Exactly. To avoid over-complicating things, avoidance was the only solution.

You were just walking down the hallway, minding your own business, when a hand suddenly grabbed yours.

You yelped, eyes widening. "What the—?!"

Before you could even react, you were being pulled, not roughly, but firmly, until you stumbled into an empty mini-theater room. The door clicked shut behind you, and your heart pounded as you whipped around.

"Jake?"

He was standing there, hand still wrapped around your wrist, brows furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. His usual playful energy was nowhere to be found.

The room was too quiet and intimate. The only sound was the distant hum of the campus outside, muffled by thick walls, the kind that trapped secrets and held them hostage. Your pulse was a dull roar in your ears as you stared at him.

God, you missed him. The playful lilt of his voice, the way he always smelled like clean laundry and something unmistakably Jake. You missed the way he touched you—soft, then rough, then soft again. You missed them. Him and Jay.

Your chest tightened, instead you swallowed, immediately trying to pull away. "Jake. Let go."

His fingers twitched against your skin, like he was debating something—like he wanted to hold on a second longer, just in case you changed your mind. But then, finally, he released you, but he didn't step back.

He was still too close.

"You are avoiding us." He said, wounded by frustration. "Why?"

Panic coiled inside you, what the fuck. You weren't ready for this. Your thoughts scrambled, reaching for an excuse, anything—anything—that would make him back off. Think. Think. Think.

But then Jake's face softened, and he exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "I'm sorry if we did something wrong," he said. "Just—please, talk to us. If you don't want to have sex anymore, that's okay. I understand. We understand." He took a step closer, voice cracking slightly. "Just don't shut us out, please."

Fuck. You almost caved. Jake have this eyes that knew exactly how to weaken you, but you spent enough time to hardened yourself. Pulled your walls up so high that even you couldn't see over them.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

You crossed your arms, forcing a blank expression. "I'm busy, Jake. I don't have time to play around with you two anymore."

Jake blinked, hurt was flashed across his face. "P-Play around?, I-Is that what this was to you?"

You scoffed, "What else would it be?"

Jake's expression twisted, like your words had physically knocked the breath out of him. Good. Maybe he'd finally get the hint.

"Look, Jake." You forced yourself to keep your voice steady, swallowing down the lump clawing its way up your throat. "I don't want to be mean, but get a fucking clue. Okay? Yes, I'm avoiding you. You and Jay were fun. The sex was good. But that's all it ever was."

Jake inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. His eyes, still locked onto yours. "Just explain to us, why?"

"I don't owe you an explanation in the first place!" you snapped, voice rising despite yourself. You could feel your resolve cracking, your emotions clawing their way to the surface. But you couldn't let them win. You couldn't let him see you break.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

"I got tired of it, okay?!"

Jake's breath came out unsteady. "You could've just told us," he said, "I-Instead of... this—instead of just shutting us out like we never meant anything. We're friends, r-right?"

That last word came out, and his voice cracking, and that was what almost broke you.

Because Jake was looking at you like he was desperate to understand, like he needed you to say something—anything that could make this all make sense.

"Friends?" You let out a cold, hollow laugh, tilting your head like he'd just said something stupid. "Jake, we were never friends."

The second the words left your mouth, Jake flinched, his breath stuttering. His entire body stiffened, his shoulders curling inward.

"Don't say that," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "You don't mean that."

You clenched your jaw so hard it ached. "I do."

Jake swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared at you like he was trying to see through the wall you'd just slammed between you. Like if he looked hard enough, he'd find something—some sign that you were lying.

But he wouldn't. Because you were good at this. You were good at pretending.

"Just tell me why," he tried again, softer this time, more pleading than before. "If you ever cared about us at all, just... tell me why you're doing this."

Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, your entire body screamed at you to stop, to take it all back, to fix this.

But you couldn't. You forced out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "God, Jake, you're so clingy." Jake flinched, and you saw the exact moment something in him cracked.

"You took everything way too seriously," you continued. "It was just sex. I don't know what the fuck you thought this was, but it wasn't deep."

"You were convenient," you added, twisting the knife deeper. "That's all. And now? I'm over it."

Jake sucked in a breath, his shoulders stiffening. You noticed the way his lips trembled. And then slowly—he nodded.

Tears streaked his cheeks, but he didn't wipe them away. He didn't lash out. He didn't beg. He just looked at you—looked through you—his expression heartbreakingly soft despite everything.

Jake didn't yell. He didn't curse you out, didn't demand answers or call you a liar. Instead, he just stood there, letting the weight of your words settle between you. His eyes were soft—too soft, filled with a quiet kind of devastation that made your stomach churn.

Without another word, he turned and walked away. The door clicked shut behind him, and that was it.

Your body sagged the moment he was gone, like the strings holding you together had been severed. You sucked in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the air felt suffocating. Your hands trembled at your sides, your fingers twitching like they wanted to reach out, to pull him back.

Don't break down. Don't be weak. You did what needed to be done.

One minute. Just one minute to get yourself together.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, your throat burned from holding back something that wanted to crawl out, guilt, regret, longing, you didn't know. Didn't want to know.

Then, finally, you exhaled. Straightened your back. Set your shoulders and walked out.

The hallway was quiet, but not empty.

Your steps faltered as you saw them—Jake, standing there with his back slightly hunched, his hands gripping the hem of Jay's uniform. His shoulders shook and his breathing uneven.

And Jay stood right in front of him, tense and rigid, watching him with a concern expression. His fists were clenched, but his hands hovered just slightly—like he wanted to touch Jake, to comfort him, but didn't know how.

And when he looked up, his eyes found yours. The softness that was there for Jake was gone.

Jay's gaze was dark, sharp, and cold in a way that made your breath hitch. There was no visible anger, just an overwhelming quiet rage simmering.

Your pulse kicked up, you immediately turned away to avoid his gaze.

Spun on your heel and walked in the opposite direction, forcing your steps to be even, controlled. Ignoring the way your chest ached, the way your throat felt tight, the way your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air.

You did the right thing.

BACK in high school, Jay never really liked being around too many people. He wasn't exactly antisocial, he could hold a conversation when needed, and he got along fine with classmates.

But having a solid group of friends wasn't his thing. Socializing felt like a chore, something that drained him. It was exhausting trying to keep up with people's expectations, their small talk, their unnecessary drama. So, he kept his distance, floating between different groups without ever fully settling in.

Girls, especially, were a whole different kind of exhausting. He wasn't clueless—he knew most of the guys in his class were obsessed with them, always whispering about who had the best tits, passing around porn links like they were trading cards.

Sure, Jay could admit that women were attractive. Sexy, even. Tits were nice, pussy was great. But in his experience, being around women felt more like a headache than a pleasure.

They were too complex, too hard to figure out. One moment they were sweet, the next they were upset over something he didn't even understand. And somehow, he was always expected to know why. It was frustrating. The high-pitched screeching in the hallways, the emotional rollercoasters, the way they'd take out their bad moods on him for no reason—it was all too much.

So, he stayed detached. Women were beautiful, but from a distance. Up close, they were just another thing he didn't have the patience to deal with.

"Did I just... get rejected?"

Jay barely had a second to process before the words came tumbling out from the stranger standing in front of him. The guy was wearing a soccer jersey, his eyes red-rimmed like he'd been crying for a while.

Jay raised an eyebrow, not sure why he was being dragged into this. He didn't even know the guy.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" the stranger asked, pouting up at him like some kicked puppy.

Jay gave him a once-over. The guy was about his height, maybe a little smaller, with messy hair and wide, golden-retriever eyes that only made his pathetic expression worse.

"She said I give the best head," the guy continued, sniffling. "But, continue to say some monologue that it's not me, it's her. What does it even mean?"

Jay sighed, running a hand down his face as he stared at the sky. Out of all the people this guy could've dumped his sob story on, why him? He just wanted to go home, lay in bed, and maybe practice a few guitar solos, not babysit some heartbroken stranger.

And that's how he met Jake.

If Jay was being honest, Jake could be a lot to handle. He was loud, clingy, and had the attention span of a golden retriever, but somehow, they just worked.

They balanced each other out in a way Jay never expected. They didn't argue much, jealousy was never an issue, and even when they weren't in the mood to deal with each other, they just shrugged it off—no drama, no unnecessary fights.

And Jay loved him. So much that he followed him to university, enrolling in the same classes just to be with him.

That was why, when Jake first brought up the idea of a threesome, Jay had been flabbergasted. He wasn't the sharing type. He was possessive by nature, and the thought of someone else touching his Jake made his blood boil. But Jake was patient, communicating his feelings in the only way he knew how: between tangled sheets.

It took months for Jay to even consider it. He didn't know what to think, didn't know if he'd be okay with it. Whether it was another guy or a girl, the thought of it made him wary.

Then, one day, he and Jake went out to his favorite café, and that's when he noticed you.

You weren't looking at him. You were looking at Jake. Staring—too long, too obvious.

Jay's eyebrow twitched. He knew exactly where he had seen you before.

You were the girl at the freshmen welcoming party, kissing random girls like it was nothing, completely lost in the haze of alcohol. He remembered the way you moaned when two girls did body shots off your stomach. You were that drunk—so far gone that, by the end of the night, it was him and Jake who had been instructed to carry you back to your dorm.

And now here you were, staring at his boyfriend.

You like guys too?

He huffed, raising an eyebrow when he caught you looking.

Then there was the train ride during the retreat. Another moment. Another time you stared at Jake when you thought no one was looking.

Jay had noticed.

"Do you think she's into threesomes?" Jake had whispered to him that night, curiosity practically dripping from his voice. He was always like this—open, playful, intrigued by new experiences.

Jay had just sighed, brushing the thought aside. "How would I know?"

He didn't think about it much after that. At least, not until he saw you sneak out of the drinking room at the retreat.

And for some reason, he followed.

He wasn't sure why. Maybe it was suspicion, or maybe it was something else. And that's when he saw you grinding against some guy named Heeseung, lips locked in a messy kiss, your whimpers barely muffled by the night air.

Jay's fists clenched at his sides. He should've turned back. Should've left. But instead, he stood there, watching.

And fuck, he didn't expect his pants to feel this tight.

Jay thought you were beautiful. Not just in the obvious way—yeah, you had the kind of face that turned heads, but it was more than that. You had this energy, this pull, something that made people gravitate toward you like you were a magnet. And Jay had always been the type to keep his distance, to stay in control, but even he wasn't immune to it.

And he knew Jake wasn't either.

Jake was naturally affectionate, clingy even, but with you, it was different. He paid attention in a way Jay had never seen before, like he was cataloging every little thing about you.

"She likes soft textures," Jake mused, scanning the shelves of the convenience store. He grabbed a puff pastry filled with chocolate and strawberry, tossing it into their basket. "She'd like this."

Jay raised a brow, watching as Jake continued down the aisle, muttering to himself.

"I think we should get makeup wipes," Jake said, grabbing a pack without hesitation. "She uses this brand, right?"

Jay exhaled through his nose, amused. "Since when did you memorize her entire skincare routine?"

Jake shrugged, grinning. "Since she started leaving her stuff at our place."

That part was true. At first, it had been little things, a stray hair tie, a forgotten hoodie—but now there was a whole section of their bathroom cabinet stocked with your products. Your shampoo was in their shower. Your chapstick was on the nightstand. Your presence was everywhere, lingering like the scent of your perfume.

It annoyed him, how easily you captured Jake's attention, how effortlessly you slipped into their dynamic like you'd always belonged there. Jay had never been the jealous type, not really, but something about the way Jake gravitated toward you, the way he paid attention to you in ways that felt too careful made something uneasy settle in his chest.

But over time, Jay realized it wasn't just Jake.

He found himself watching you more often than he cared to admit, listening when you talked, remembering the small details about you without even trying.

He started noticing things—how you always smelled like vanilla and something sweet, how your nose scrunched up when you were focused, how your lips parted slightly when you were about to tease someone. It wasn't just Jake who was drawn to you. Jay was, too.

"Men have different parts in their brain," their professor droned on at the front of the lecture hall, pacing slowly as he gestured to the board. "It's an anatomical difference that affects communication—"

Jay barely heard the rest. Instead, his attention drifted to you, slumped against Sunoo's shoulder, your mouth slightly open as you slept. Sunoo was just as bad, his head tilted against yours, completely knocked out.

Jay huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

The two of you looked ridiculous, but for some reason, he felt that same annoying warmth in his chest that he'd been trying to ignore. The same feeling that made him buy your favorite snacks at the convenience store without thinking. The same feeling that had him listening a little too intently whenever Jake talked about you.

"Anatomical difference, my ass. Men just use their dicks instead of their mouths, that's why they're assholes," Yunjin muttered, typing away on her laptop while half-listening to the lecture.

Jay didn't agree with that. He knew men communicated—just differently. Maybe not with words the way women did, but through actions and through presence.

Like how Jake never outright said he wanted you, but always found an excuse to bring you up in conversations, to keep you close.

Like how Jay himself never said much at all, but still, for some reason, his attention always gravitated toward you.

They just had different ways of showing affection, and for a while, Jay thought that was enough.

Until it wasn't.

"It's freezing. What are you doing out here?" Jay asked, stepping onto the snow-covered porch where Jake sat curled in on himself. The night air was sharp, biting against his skin, but Jake didn't seem to notice.

Jay's eyes trailed over him—his red nose, the slight tremble in his fingers, the way his eyes were swollen and glassy.

"Were you crying?" Jay frowned, reaching out to tilt Jake's face toward him.

Jake flinched, but he didn't pull away. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

"Baby, talk to me," Jay said, firmer this time.

"I—I..." Jake's voice wavered. His breath came out in a shaky cloud, visible against the cold air. "I'm sorry."

Jay's brows furrowed. "For what?"

Jake squeezed his eyes shut, as if saying it out loud would break him.

"I like her, Jay."

Jay's breath hitched at the confession, Jake had always been expressive—his love was loud, easy, all-consuming. But maybe, just maybe, Jay had never truly listened. Never truly looked. Because if he had, he would've seen this coming.

Jay let out a slow breath, steadying himself. Then, without hesitation, he cupped Jake's face, thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, I know it's wrong —"

"You don't have to be sorry," Jay murmured.

Jake sniffled, confused. "But—"

Jay shook his head, cutting him off. "I like her too."

Jake stilled. His grip on Jay's jacket loosened slightly, as if he didn't believe what he just heard.

Jay exhaled, looking past Jake for a moment, toward the snow-covered street, the dim porch light casting a soft glow around them. It had taken him too long to realize it, but now that the words were out, they felt right.

"I didn't want to admit it, but I get it. I get why you feel this way."

Jake's lips parted slightly, his breath hitching. "Then why did we—" He hesitated. "Why didn't we talk about this sooner?"

Jay fell silent, because that was the problem, wasn't it?

Their entire relationship had been built on silent understandings, unspoken words, actions instead of conversations. It had always been enough—until it really wasn't.

Jay wasn't the type to talk about feelings, and Jake... well, Jake always just went with whatever Jay was willing to give.

Jay sighed, finally meeting Jake's gaze again. "Because we never really talk about things, do we?"

Jake let out a breathy, broken laugh, shaking his head. "No. We really don't."

Jay reached up, threading his fingers through Jake's hair, pulling him into a slow, grounding hug. Jake melted into him instantly. For a while, neither of them spoke. The cold wind bit at their skin, the snow crunching softly beneath their feet as they shifted slightly in place. But neither moved to go inside.

"I miss her," Jake finally whispered. His voice was small, fragile in a way that Jay rarely ever heard. "Is it right to tell her how we feel?"

Jay stiffened slightly at the question, that was the real problem. It wasn't just about their feelings anymore—it was about yours too.

He wasn't an idiot. He had noticed the shift in your energy, the way you had started pulling away, the way your texts had become shorter, emptier.

Maybe you felt it too. Maybe you had been trying to fight it just as much as he had.

But unlike him, you had chosen to run.

And Jay hated that.

Because the truth was, he had spent so much of his life avoiding unnecessary complications, keeping people at arm's length to protect himself from feelings he didn't know how to deal with. Relationships were easy when they were just sex, when there were clear boundaries that everyone followed.

But you had blurred every single one of those lines.

He had spent months trying to ignore the way he felt, convincing himself that this was nothing more than what it started as — just a bit of fun. But then you wormed your way into their lives in ways he never anticipated.

It was in the way you laughed at Jake's stupid jokes, in the way you pout your lips at certain foods, in the way you always took extra time to make sure Jake was drinking enough water or that Jay wasn't skipping meals.

It was in the way you would fall asleep on their couch, curled up like you belonged there, as if you had carved a space for yourself in their world without even realizing it.

And yet, they had never said anything. They had never talked about what any of this meant, never acknowledged the growing weight of their emotions.

"I don't know," Jay admitted, "but I know I don't want to lose her."

Jake swallowed hard, his grip on Jay tightening. "Me neither."

He wasn't sure how to approach this, wasn't sure how to untangle the mess they had all made. But one thing was certain—he and Jake wanted you.

And if there was even the slightest chance that you wanted them too, Jay would figure out a way to make this work.

Poly relationships existed, didn't they?

And if that was the way to keep you, then Jay would do everything in his power to make you stay.

...

Except you were acting like a fucking bitch.

Despite all the planning, about how to approach this properly, Jake had gone ahead and done the one thing Jay told him not to do—talk to you without a plan. Without giving you time. Without preparing himself for the worst.

And now Jake was curled up in Jay's arms, shaking, trying to choke back his sobs while Jay clenched his jaw so tightly.

Jake was impatient, and you were pushing them away.

Jay's head was going to fucking explode. He didn't know how to handle this. He hated seeing Jake cry, hated the way his hands trembled as he held onto him. Hated the way you had shut them out like they didn't mean a goddamn thing to you.

Well, he knew that they meant something to you.

Jay's patience had been stretched thin for weeks now. Every time he thought he might have a chance to talk to you, you slipped away like smoke between his fingers. It was pissing him off. He could feel you pulling back, putting up walls he hadn't even realized were there. And the worst part is he had no fucking idea how to break them down.

He wasn't the kind of guy who begged. He wasn't the kind of guy who chased. But for you? For you, he was losing his goddamn mind.

"Hey, shhh, it's okay, I'll talk to her," Jay murmured, his voice steady despite the frustration simmering beneath the surface. Jake sniffled, his face buried in Jay's shoulder, but his grip didn't loosen. His whole body shook, fingers digging into Jay's back.

Jay sighed, bringing a hand up to wipe Jake's wet cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Jake's lips trembled.

"She's not even giving us a chance."

Yeah, he fucking noticed.

And it pissed him off. Not just because you were avoiding them, not just because you were pushing Jake away—but because Jake wasn't even mad about it. He wasn't angry; he was hurt. Both of them knew you didn't mean what you had said that day. But what could they do when you refused to talk? When you were so hell-bent on running?

"...Many individuals engage in self-sabotage not because they don't want happiness, but because they fear it."

Jay blinked at the professor's voice, his jaw tightening as he focused on the lecture.

"Fear of commitment, avoidance of intimacy, and reluctance to accept positive emotions often stem from deep-seated insecurities. This can manifest as pushing people away when they get too close, fixating on imperfections to justify emotional distance, or convincing oneself that they are 'better off alone.'"

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face.

"To put it simply," the professor continued, leaning against his desk, "people self-sabotage when they don't believe they deserve good things. They anticipate failure or abandonment, so they preemptively destroy what could be good before it has the chance to hurt them."

Jay's head instinctively turned to where you usually sat. Your seat was empty. Of course, it was.

His fingers drummed against the desk, irritation flaring in his chest. He already knew you were avoiding them, but it was becoming worse. First, it was the silent treatment, then skipping plans, ignoring texts. Now, you were barely showing up to class. What the fuck were you thinking? Were you really about to fail a major subject just to get away from them?

Jake nudged him lightly, his eyes worried. "She's really doing this, huh?"

Jay clenched his jaw. "Fucking ridiculous," he muttered.

He didn't understand. Why were you acting like this? They had never once made you feel unwanted. Never treated you like an afterthought.

The professor moved on, but Jay wasn't listening anymore. His mind was spinning, the weight of your absence pressing heavily against him.

Prelims came and went. And still—no shadow of you.

Jay barely glanced at his exam paper as he turned it in. He had spent the past hour only half-focused, tapping his pen against the desk in frustration, mind elsewhere. He already knew his score wouldn't be his best. Not with the way you were consuming his every thought.

Outside the exam hall, Sunoo approached him hesitantly. Jay didn't miss the way he shifted awkwardly on his feet, fingers twisting together like he was debating whether to speak.

"I'm sorry," Sunoo finally said, sighing. "I hope... whatever's happening with you guys, you'll be patient with her."

Jay exhaled sharply through his nose. Yeah. He was trying to be patient, but patience was running thin when you wouldn't even look at them anymore.

Sunoo hesitated again before glancing around, making sure no one was listening. "It's not my story to tell," he admitted carefully, voice softer, "but she likes the both of you." He shook his head, lips pressing together. "She just... she's being negative."

Jay's grip tightened on his exam booklet. Of course, he fucking knew that. It wasn't just obvious—it was the only explanation that made sense. But hearing it from Sunoo, having someone else confirm it, should have made him feel better. It didn't.

Because knowing that you wanted them didn't change the fact that you were pushing them away. It didn't change the fact that you were choosing to ruin this before they even had a chance to prove to you that it could work.

Sunoo studied Jay's face, reading his silence before sighing. "She's just scared," he muttered. "That's how she is."

Jay huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah? Well, I'm getting really fucking tired of watching her run."

Sunoo gave him a look, almost as if to say, then catch her.

Fine. He would. One thing was clear—this avoidance shit? It needed to end.

They had to talk. They had to communicate. Well, they had been trying. But talking to you was like grasping at smoke. Jay had tried to contact you, but it was clear you had soft-blocked them both. His messages stayed unread. Calls went straight to voicemail.

Jay had tried to find you. But every time he did, you ran. Midterms came. Jay was exhausted, irritated, and so fucking done with the distance.

And then, he saw you. Laughing like nothing had happened, like you hadn't disappeared off the face of the fucking earth. You were standing outside the library with a group of friends, flexing your nails dramatically as the others fussed over them. Jay's steps slowed. Your hair was different, it was short.

A bob cut. The sight of it made his chest tighten. It wasn't a bad thing—hell, it looked good. But it was different. You were different.

He inhaled sharply and stepped forward, but before he could close the distance, your gaze flickered up. And you saw him for a second your expression froze.

Then, before Jay could even process it, someone else entered the scene.

Some guy. That fucking guy and his girlfriend.

Jay watched as they approached you, watched as the girl kissed your cheek, Heeseung slinging an arm around your shoulder.

And you let them. You let them pull you away before Jay could even reach you. No fucking way.

"Do you think we should give up?" Jake had asked once. Jay only shook his head. No.

Communication is key—but with the way you're acting, they need a different strategy to reach you.

You don't get to run. Not anymore. Men speak in different ways they said, and if the softest way doesn't get through to you then he'll have to go rough.

"Oh my God, this is the most chaotic event ever," Sunoo complained loudly, fanning himself dramatically with his schedule sheet. "Who in their right mind thinks it's a good idea to hold university games when summer is practically melting us alive? That's actual insanity."

Sweat clung to your forehead, your clothes sticking uncomfortably to your skin. All around you, students were sprawled across the open field, desperately searching for shade or breeze.

Sunghoon turned on his small turbo fan and aimed it toward you and Sunoo. A soft hum filled the air, and you immediately leaned into the stream of cool air.

"Bless your soul," you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as the breeze hit your face.

Meanwhile, Wonyoung sat cross-legged on the grass nearby, sipping water with a serene expression, completely unbothered by the scorching sun.

"This is actually so unfair," you muttered, glancing at her in disbelief. "I look like a soggy dog, and she's out here looking like a skincare commercial."

"She's probably not human," Sunoo said flatly.

You slumped dramatically closer to the turbo fan, shoulders sagging with defeat. "Why did you even register us for dodgeball?!" you whined, voice muffled as you practically shoved your face into the breeze. "I look like I've been through five stages of grief, I don't even barely survive now that we don't do anything, then what about tomorrow."

Sunoo shrugged, unapologetic. "It's tradition. And it's the only time I get to legally throw a ball at people I don't like."

You gave him a flat look, lifting your face just enough to mutter, "That includes me, doesn't it?"

"Depends on how much more you complain," he deadpanned, eyes hidden behind his oversized sunglasses.

Sunghoon leaned slightly forward with a furrowed brow. "Hey, your mascara is kind of melting. Like... a lot."

You gasped, sitting up straight. "No! No, no, no—" You fumbled through your bag in a mild panic, fishing out your phone. The moment your reflection came into view, you groaned. "I look like a raccoon who just got dumped."

"You always say that," Wonyoung chimed in with a lazy smile, finally acknowledging the conversation as she shifted beneath her sun umbrella. "And yet somehow you still pull."

"Not in this heat I don't," you grumbled, pressing a tissue to the corner of your eye. The moment you pulled it back, it was smudged black. "Great. I look like I'm melting from the inside out."

You leaned into the mirror on your phone, trying to fix the damage but the more you dabbed and adjusted, the worse it got. The eyeliner smeared into your under-eye, and your lashes clumped at odd angles. You cursed softly under your breath, cheeks hot with both embarrassment and the unforgiving sun.

"I need to go to the bathroom," you muttered, standing quickly and brushing off the back of your shorts. "This is a mess—I need to fix this before I look like I got dumped and then thrown into a fire."

"I told you to change your mascara," Sunoo mumbled. "Waterproof isn't just a suggestion in this weather."

"I didn't think it'd get this bad!" you hissed, reaching for your bag—which, naturally, was hanging from Sunghoon's overburdened shoulder. He handed it off without complaint, arms already full of Wonyoung and Sunoo's things too.

"Where are you going?" Wonyoung asked without moving.

"To salvage my face," you said over your shoulder. "If I don't come back, assume I drowned in the sink."

You didn't wait for a reply, slipping away from the group as your shoes scuffed against the hot pavement. The chatter of students faded behind you, replaced by the distant hum of activity inside the university. The moment you entered the shaded hallway, the temperature dropped just enough for you to breathe.

Your footsteps echoed lightly as you made your way toward the restroom, the cold tile of the building cooling the soles of your feet through your sneakers. You exhaled a long, slow breath—finally out of the noise and the sun.

You pushed open the bathroom door and slipped inside, letting it close behind you with a soft click.

You dropped your bag on the counter, you pulled out your makeup, eyeing the smudged disaster on your face. Carefully, you began dabbing away the ruined mascara and eyeliner, patting concealer beneath your eyes and slowly rebuilding the illusion of composure. Your lashes clumped slightly as you reapplied your mascara, and you leaned in closer to the mirror to separate them.

You were just about finished when a voice cut through.

"Figured I'd find you here."

You jumped, nearly knocking your makeup pouch off the counter. Your head whipped toward the door—where Jay stood, leaning against the frame.

"This is the girls' restroom," you snapped, the panic slipping into your voice. The last thing you wanted was to be cornered by him. And God, of all the times, why did he have to look so fucking good in that damn denim jacket?

Jay didn't flinch. He just stared. "It's not like I haven't seen everything already," he said, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind him with a low thud.

You scoffed, hard, grabbing your bag off the counter. "Right. And that gives you a free pass to stalk me now? Is that how it works?"

Jay's jaw tightened, but his voice stayed low. "I didn't stalk you. I came to talk. Since you're ghosting every call, and message, avoiding us, and you made Jake cry," he added, emphasizing the last part.

"Maybe because I don't want to talk," you bit out, slamming a lipstick back into your bag. "I already told your boyfriend—I'm done with the both of you. So stop. Stop being so fucking annoying."

You tried to storm past him, but his hand shot out fast, gripping your shoulder, forcing you back.

"What the hell is your problem?!" you snapped, "You think cornering me like this is gonna change anything?"

Jay's eyes darkened, his voice dropping a notch. "Yeah. Maybe it will. Since the version where I let you push us away didn't work."

"You don't get to decide how I feel," you hissed, shoving at his chest. "You don't get to show up like this just because you're pissed I won't answer you."

"And you don't get to shut down every time something doesn't go your way," he shot back. "You act like you don't care, but if that were true, you wouldn't be shaking right now."

Jay's eyes dropped to your arm, the subtle tremble giving you away. You quickly swallowed the lump rising in your throat and tucked your arm behind your back.

He raised a brow. "Can you stop being a brat for five seconds and just hear me out?"

You scoffed, biting down the sting in your chest. "I told you—I'm not interested anymore. Why are you so damn pushy?!"

"Because we fucking like you!" Jay snapped, you stiffened, the silence that followed hitting louder than his voice had. Your breath caught. His jaw clenched, and the space between you suddenly felt way too small.

Being with them isn't realistic.

Push them away.

Lied through your fucking teeth.

"Wow. Great. That's your excuse?" you spat, though your voice shook just enough to betray you. "You like me, so now I'm supposed to just roll over and forget everything? Grow up, Jay. That's not how this works."

Jay stepped forward slowly. You instinctively backed up, your spine hitting the cold edge of the counter.

"You felt something too," he said, eyes fixed on you. "Don't bullshit me."

"Shut up," you shot back too fast, and too obviously defensive.

He didn't stop. His gaze locked on yours, footsteps steady. "You can act cold, pretend you're done, like we didn't get under your skin. But I know better."

You pressed harder into the counter. "You don't know shit," you hissed. "It was a mistake. A phase. Whatever the hell you thought you saw—it wasn't real."

Jay's mouth curled, smirking. "Funny. That 'phase' made you tremble like that? That mistake had you gasping my name?"

Your chest rose and fell fast, your heart thundering behind your ribs like it wanted out.

He leaned in, close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath. "You're not scared of us. You're scared of how real it felt. You're scared because it meant something—and you don't know what the hell to do with that."

"Shut up," you repeated, but your voice cracked on the edge of it this time.

Jay went still and finally, he heard it. That tiny crack in your armor, the one you didn't mean to let slip. The one he'd been waiting for.

His expression shifted, the usual smirk gone. What was left was quiet, focus and dangerous stare.

"You can keep pushing us away. Say it was fake. Say it was a lie. But you and I both know—" his voice dipped, "—it was the most real thing you've ever felt."

You clenched your jaw, refusing to look at him. If you met his eyes now, it was over, you knew it. So you stared at the floor, at the sink, at anywhere but him.

"Look at me," he said.

You didn't. So he grabbed your jaw, rough, and tilted your face toward his. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you locked eyes with him. And that was it. The moment cracked open, revealing everything you hadn't said.

His gaze bore into you, not blinking, not softening. "You gonna keep pretending this meant nothing?" he murmured, breath ghosting over your cheek. "You gonna keep walking around like you're not haunted by us every fucking night?"

You said nothing because you couldn't. Jay stepped in closer, so close the space between you vanished, the scent of his cologne hitting you hard, that familiar deep and musky. Your legs wobbled, barely holding you up, and you cursed your body for betraying you.

He leaned in, his hand still holding your face, thumb brushing the edge of your lip. "You really think you can just move on? That someone else is gonna touch you the way we did? Know you the way we do?"

His voice dropped even lower, a growl at the edge of it. "You think you're just gonna give that cunt to someone else?" His hand slid down, slow, dragging along your throat, pressing just enough to make your breath catch. "You think it's gonna listen to them?"

Your thighs clenched on instinct. Fuck.

Jay caught the reaction—he always noticed. His lips curved just barely. "Your body doesn't lie," he said, "It remembers us. The way you moaned. The way you begged. That pussy listens when we speak. You know it. I know it."

His hand rested just above your chest now, feeling your heartbeat racing beneath it.

"You can lie all you want," he said, eyes dark and locked on you. "But your body's telling the truth."

You were frozen, pulse slamming in your throat, heat spreading beneath your skin. Jay's lips brushed the shell of your ear. "Say it didn't mean anything. Look me in the eye and say it."

A soft, broken gasp—no, worse. A moan left your mouth. You felt the slow smile curl against your skin, felt the change in the air as his grip shifted.

"There she is," he murmured. "Couldn't hold it in, could you?"

"Fuck you," you choked, breathless, humiliated, every inch of your skin lit up with heat and shame.

His hand slid from your chest to your neck again, thumb brushing your jaw as he tilted your head up. "You already did," he said. "And you fucking loved it."

His other hand slid to your hip, fingers digging in just hard enough to make you gasp. Then he stepped in fully, pressing his body flush against yours, pinning you between the counter and him.

"Push me away," he said, his forehead resting against yours, breath mingling, eyes locked on you like a hunter cornering prey.

But you couldn't look away. His scent coiled around you, and your legs barely held you up. You felt it, the warmth blooming between your thighs, the traitorous ache soaking into your panties, and you hated how much he could still do this to you with so little.

"Push me away," Jay repeated. "Make me cry the way you fucking did to Jake."

His hand tightened around your throat suddenly. Your hands flew to his wrist on reflex, clutching him but you didn't push. You didn't even try. A squeak escaped your lips, your fingers just held him there, trembling, as the air caught in your throat and heat flared down your spine.

"Stop talking," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut, as if you could block out the sound of his voice.

But his grip on your throat only tightened. "Why?" Jay murmured, his tone taunting. "Can't take it?"

Your lips parted, breath ragged. "I—I'm s-sorry, okay? I'm sorry," you gasped.

Jay's eyes narrowed, and a sharp, mocking smile curled at his lips. "Sorry?" he echoed. "Now you're sorry?"

"No. You don't get to say sorry and pretend that fixes this," he snarled. "You lied. You ran. You made Jake cry. You threw us away —and now look at you."

"Look at yourself," he hissed. "Pathetic little whimper in your throat every time I speak."

You tried to shake your head, but he didn't let you. "No. Don't look away now," Jay growled, fingers still wrapped tight around your throat, forcing your eyes up to meet his. "You wanna play cold? Strong? Then own it. Stand tall. Push me off. Say it was all a fucking lie."

Your lips trembled. You tried. You tried to hold it in—but everything broke at once. "It's not!" you cried, voice cracking, hands shaking against his wrist. "It's not! I'm sorry!"

Your chest heaved. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to—I just—" your voice splintered into breathless pieces, eyes glassy, vision blurring, "please just—just—fuck!"

You grabbed his shirt, knuckles white.

"Touch me, please!"

The words left your mouth like a scream torn from your core, soaked in shame, in need.

"There's the truth." His grip released your throat to slide lower, hands now on your waist. Your hips met his, and the hardness pressing against your core made your breath stutter, arousal flooding you so hard your legs gave a twitch.

"You begged," he whispered, eyes never leaving yours. "Say it again."

You swallowed hard, breath catching, lips parted and trembling.

"Say it," he repeated like a command. "Say it so you remember how low you got."

You hesitated, just for a second, but the ache between your legs, the fire in your belly, the heat in your cheeks—it was too much.

"Please..." you whispered, eyes wide, voice shaking. "Touch me."

Jay tilted his head slightly, then leaned in to your ear again, mouth brushing your skin. "Louder."

You shut your eyes, biting your lip, humiliated but so fucking far gone. "Please," you gasped, louder now, every word dripping with shame, "touch me. I need it. I need you."

Jay didn't answer immediately. He let the silence hang heavy, waiting—making you sweat in it. Then he leaned closer again. "Think you deserve it?"

Your breath caught. "No..." you whispered. "N-No. I don't."

Jay smiled. "Exactly." And then, without another word, he pulled away. Just let go of you and stepped back, turning his back.

"H-Huh?" you breathed, the air suddenly cold without his touch. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the field," he said flatly. "You don't deserve shit—not after all the stupid games you played."

Panic flared so violently inside you it made your knees weak. The throbbing heat between your legs was unbearable now, your panties soaked, your stomach aching from how badly you needed release. But worse than the arousal was the cold pit of humiliation, of abandonment.

You lunged forward, clutching his wrist with both hands. "No, no—please! I'm sorry!" your voice cracked. "Please, I'm sorry, I just— I got jealous. With you and Jake, I— I like you. I like both of you, I just thought..."

You were sobbing now, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks. "I thought it would be better if I was out of the picture. I didn't know what to do. I miss you! I— I need you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Jay turned slowly. "And you acted like a bitch because you thought it'd be better?" he hissed. "We chased you for three fucking months."

You froze, mouth parted, lips trembling. "And what did you do?" Jay continued, voice rising. "Blocked us. Ignored us. Walked away like we were nothing. Like you didn't feel anything."

"I did," you whispered. "I did."

He stared down at you, breathing hard, chest rising and falling, eyes locked on your tear-soaked face and the hands still clutching his wrist

"You're going to earn your place back," he said coldly. "We're not just taking you back. You'll crawl for it. You'll beg for it."

You stood there, frozen, tears still fresh on your cheeks. Shame burned through you, and the arousal between your legs was only getting worse.

"You want me to touch you?" he asked, his voice low, mocking. "You think I'll give that to you just like that? Just because you cried a little? Because you finally admitted you fucked up?"

You shook your head slowly, lip trembling. "N-No..." you whispered.

"No?" he echoed, lips curling. "Then why are you still standing like you're in control?"

You blinked at him, confused for half a heartbeat. And then the word dropped. "Kneel."

You flinched. Your legs almost didn't respond but your body knew. Knew the command, knew his tone, knew exactly what was expected. Your knees buckled beneath you, and you sank slowly to the floor, the cold tile biting into your skin.

Jay towered over you now, looking down with nothing but cold amusement in his eyes. "Pathetic," he muttered. "You were so full of fire. So quick to run your mouth. What happened to all that attitude, huh?"

You kept your head down, cheeks flushed hot, hands trembling in your lap.

He stepped in close behind you, hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back just enough for you to gasp. "I should make you wait longer," he said, staring down into your eyes. "Should make you watch me walk away again. But then I'd miss watching you break. And I like this view too much."

Your lips parted, breath caught between a sob and a moan.

"You know what I should do?" Jay whispered. "I should call Jake. Let him see what's left of the girl who told him she was 'done.' Let him see you begging on your knees, soaked and broken. You think he'd feel sorry for you?"

You shook your head again, tears welling up all over, and yet—your thighs pressed together.

Jay smirked. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

He released your hair, let you slump forward just slightly. "You're going to stay right here," he said. "On your knees. Hands behind your back. You don't get to touch. You don't get to beg again unless I say."

"Yes..." you whispered, eyes shut, heart racing. "Yes, okay..."

You heard the soft rustle of denim—Jay pulling off his jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the counter. The metallic click of a belt followed, then the slow grind of a zipper sliding down. The sounds alone made your pulse spike.

Jay stood above you, fingers resting at his waistband. His gaze dropped down to meet yours and the look in his eyes made your stomach twist in the most helpless, humiliating way.

He shifted his stance slightly, drawing closer, one hand sliding into the front of his jeans, adjusting himself as his breath hitched low in his chest. A dark patch spread along the front of his briefs, Jay let out a low hiss through his teeth, his jaw tightening as he watched you watching him.

Jay's thumb brushed your bottom lip, dragging the soft flesh down just enough to part your mouth. With one hand, he pushed his briefs down just enough to free himself, fingers wrapping around the thick base of his cock. The head was flushed, already wet at the tip, and he slowly angled it toward your waiting mouth.

You opened for him without hesitation, lips parting wide, tongue slightly curled. You saw the flicker in his expression, by the way his breath hitched sharply, his brows twitching together.

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, just before his hips surged forward. The sudden thrust made your throat constrict, a choked gasp escaping you as you adjusted, eyes watering.

Both of his hands moved to your head now, fingers splaying through your hair, rough and needy. He let his fingertips glide against your scalp at first, almost soothing, before his grip tightened. A sharp tug followed.

"Why'd you cut your hair, anyway?" he asked, breathless, but the question was half a growl, half a genuine bite of irritation. His fingers tangled in your shorter strands, clearly missing the length he used to wrap his fists in.

Tears blurred your vision, slipping down your cheeks, but you didn't stop. Your throat worked hard around him, swallowing, adjusting, the wet sounds of gulp, gulp, gulp are echoing against the tile walls of the bathroom.

Your lips stayed stretched around him, tongue coiling beneath the shaft, dragging slow and deliberate from the base upward as you swallowed him again and again.

The world outside the bathroom didn't exist. You'd forgotten where you were, forgotten the echo of distant footsteps, the fact that the tiled walls weren't just enclosing heat and pleasure but public space. You were too far gone in the taste of him, in the stretch of your lips, in the burn of each breathless gasp you took through your nose.

Then—knock knock. A sharp, sudden rap on the door snapped. You flinched, instantly trying to pull back, eyes wide in panic, throat clenching around him. But Jay didn't let you go.

"Shh," he murmured. His fingers tightened in your hair, the other hand sliding to the back of your neck. Before you could react, he forced you down—all the way. His cock sank into your throat in one sharp, complete thrust, your nose pressed flat against the skin of his pelvis. The breath caught in your lungs. Your eyes watered harder. You were choking, but you stayed, frozen, as his grip held you exactly where he wanted.

The door creaked open.

"It's just me," came a soft, casual familiar voice.

You heard the unmistakable click of the lock sliding into place behind him. A moment later, you could feel the weight of Jake's stare, as he stood there, just inside the bathroom door, watching.

Jake's tone was edged with uncertainty, but not surprise. "You said you were just gonna talk," he said as he took in the scene—your knees on the cold tile, face flushed, cheeks hollowed, and Jay buried deep in your throat.

Jay exhaled through his teeth, head tilting back slightly, his grip finally loosening just enough for you to breathe again. But he didn't pull out.

"That's her way of apologizing," Jay hissed, his hips rolled forward again with purpose, forcing another wet choke from you. "Isn't that right?"

His hand remained in your hair, holding you steady, guiding your mouth with every thrust. His other hand slipped down to your jaw, thumb brushing the corner of your lips, smearing the spit that clung there like gloss.

You looked up and there was Jake.

You'd always remembered Jake as soft-spoken, the kind of boy smiled too gently. Sweet to a fault. The kind of person who would've cupped your cheek and whispered it was okay, would've helped you up and kissed the tears from your face.

But not now. Now his eyes weren't soft. They were cold, sharp and predatory.

Even through the blur of your lashes and the sting of fresh tears, you saw it: the shift. The hunger.

"You're crying," Jake said. He tilted his head, studying your face. "She's crying, Jay."

And how you remembered, too well, the way he had this thing with you crying every time he fucked you. A fascination of your tears.

"She should be," he said flatly. "After the shit she pulled? She should be sobbing." He thrust forward again, slow and deep, watching your throat stretch to take it.

Jake didn't blink. His expression didn't soften. He just knelt lower beside you, one hand resting casually on his knee as he leaned in a little closer. His eyes were fixed on your tear-streaked face, watching every twitch of your mouth, every breath you struggled to take around Jay's cock.

His cock twitched in his pants. There was a fire building in his chest stoked by the sight of you like this—on your knees, choking, tears running, all for his boyfriend. And yet... all he could think about was that moment. That time he tried talking to you, voice soft, reaching out with patience, and you'd barely looked at him. Just shrugged him off.

Maybe he'd been too kind. No—he had been too kind.

Jake didn't know exactly what he was feeling as he watched Jay drive himself deeper into your mouth, but it wasn't softness. Not anymore. A new edge in his blood he hadn't recognized before. Every time your throat clenched, every time another tear slipped down your cheek, something inside him twisted tighter.

"You're so unfair," Jake said. He stood slowly, eyes never leaving your face.

Jay reached up, hand curling around the back of Jake's neck, fingers threading into his hair. He pulled him down, and their mouths met in a slow kiss.

You whimpered around Jay's cock, your voice small and choked as your eyes followed the scene unfolding above you.

They didn't look at you. Their kiss deepened quickly, mouths open, tongues sliding together in a messy, hungry rhythm. Jay tilted his head, humming low against Jake's mouth, and Jake responded with a moan that vibrated through him—a sound that made Jay's grip on your hair tighten just slightly.

Their bodies leaned into each other, mouths devouring, heat bleeding off them like they'd forgotten you were even there. You whimpered again, louder this time, throat sore, nose running, your jaw aching, but they still didn't acknowledge you.

Then you sobbed, your body trembling as another wave of tears spilled down your cheeks. Jake pulled back from the kiss, breathless, lips slick.

"Stop being dramatic," he muttered as he looked down at you. His hand came down with no hesitation, fingers sliding into your hair alongside Jay's to push you further.

You whimpered one last time, cut off by the sudden pressure as your head was forced forward. Your nose pressed flush to Jay's skin again, throat stretched to its limit.

"Shut up," Jake said quietly. Jay hissed through his teeth, his body jerking slightly as your throat took him again, deeper now under Jake's added weight.

You gagged again, but Jake didn't flinch. He just turned his head and watched his boyfriend with a crooked smile. before leaning in to kiss him again. Their mouths met above you, hot and open, tongues sliding as if you weren't there.

You couldn't breathe.

Your throat burned, raw and stretched too wide, and your jaw felt like it was splitting apart under the unrelenting ache. Jay's pace had become erratic now, his stomach bouncing against your nose with each desperate thrust. You could feel the tightness in your chest spreading, oxygen slipping further and further out of reach.

Your lungs screamed. Your eyes streamed. But neither of them looked down.

And just when you felt his cock throb in warning, when your body tensed in anticipation of the inevitable—

Jake pulled you off.

You gasped as you were suddenly released, choking, coughing, collapsing sideways onto the cold tile floor. Your body folded, weak and trembling, chest heaving as you dragged in greedy, ragged breaths. Your lips were swollen, spit-slick and trembling, and the back of your throat felt like it had been clawed raw.

You barely had time to lift yourself onto your elbows when you saw Jake move again.

He dropped to his knees smoothly in front of Jay, his mouth opened without a word, and he took Jay in deep, his jaw relaxed. You watched through bleary, tear-streaked eyes as Jake's head began to bob, slow and sinuous, his lips wrapped around the same cock that had just brutalized your throat.

Jay groaned, one hand bracing against the counter, the other curling in Jake's hair. His hips jerked once, twice—and then he came.

Jake didn't flinch. He swallowed it all, his throat working silently, eyes fluttering shut as if savoring it. His fingers dug into Jay's hips, keeping him in place as the last tremors rolled through him.

You stayed on the floor, trembling, watching through a curtain of tears you couldn't stop.

Jake pulled back with a wet drag of his mouth, lips glossy, tongue flicking out to catch the last trace of Jay's release. He looked up at him with hooded eyes, mouth still parted slightly, breath heavy. Jay let out a soft, breathless laugh, brushing Jake's hair back from his face.

Something in you twisted again. Bitter. Ugly. It crawled up your chest and sat there. You wiped your face with the back of your trembling hand, smearing the tears more than cleaning them. The other reached up shakily, trying to push your hair out of your eyes, trying to regain some kind of dignity.

But Jake didn't give you the chance. He turned to you slowly, head cocked, still licking the corner of his mouth. His gaze locked onto you, that same hunger was still in his eyes.

"You think you're done?" he asked. Jay's hand dropped from Jake's hair, and looked down on you again. 

Jake stood and approached you with the lazy certainty of someone who already knew you wouldn't resist.  He crouched in front of you, his face level with yours. He reached out and brushed your hair back

Your lips trembled as you tried to speak. "I-I'm sorry, Jake..." you whispered, barely able to meet his eyes. "Both of you mean something to me. I just... I didn't know how to handle it. I miss you. I didn't mean to make you cry. You're precious to me, baby."

Jake stilled. For a moment, he didn't blink. His gaze searching yours. His breath hitched, just enough to give him away, his jaw tightening as his face flickered with softness. Behind you, Jay leaned back against the wall with a soft exhale, arms crossing over his chest. His eyes flicked between the two of you.

Jake's hand hover near your cheek, thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. You leaned into it simply to feel him again. Just that brief, tender contact that used to come so easily. Your skin brushed his fingertips, and he didn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry," you sobbed. Your body trembled, shoulders shaking, the emotion too big to contain any longer.

Jake exhaled sharply, his entire demeanor going soft suddenly. "Shhh..." he finally whispered, pulling you into him.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, and he tucked his face into the side of your head. His nose pressed gently to your temple. One hand moved to your back, slowly rubbing up and down.

"You meant it?" he murmured. "All of it?"

You nodded into his shoulder, arms tightening around his waist as you clung to him. "I meant it," you whispered, breath hitching. "Every word."

Jake didn't move right away. He just held you there, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other drawing slow, rhythmic circles against your spine. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, faster than it should've been.

For a moment, everything else faded— the ache in your throat, the sting of your tears, even Jay's quiet presence nearby. It was just Jake. Just the closeness you hadn't had in too long.

"I should be angry," Jake murmured after a pause. "But I missed you too much." He pulled back just slightly, enough to look at you. "Don't lie to me again. Don't run." he said softly.

"I won't," you whispered. "Let me fix things." The moment the answer left your lips, Jake moved, he hooked his arms beneath you, lifting you up.

You let out a small gasp as he turned, setting you down on the cold counter behind you. Your back hit the mirror with a soft thud, the glass cool against your scalp as your legs instinctively parted to accommodate him stepping in between them.

He kept his eyes on yours, even as his hands moved to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers working them down. "Let's fix things, huh?" he murmured, dragging your shorts down in one motion. "You want to make things right?"

You nodded again, barely able to breathe as the air hit your wet skin.

"Then spread those pretty thighs," Jake growled under his breath. He dropped the fabric carelessly to the floor, hands sliding up your inner thighs, his eyes landed on the soaked fabric of your panties before he pushed them aside.

"Already dripping," he muttered. His fingers pressed against your folds through the soaked cotton, dragging slowly up your slit, teasing you. The friction of the fabric sent jolts through your core. He pressed a little harder, making your hips twitch in response.

Another presence pressed close—Jay. He moved in behind Jake. "You're spoiling her again," Jay said as he leaned in, his breath warm against your neck.

His hands slid up your body from behind, palms rough, until they found your breasts. He cupped them through your top, thumbs brushing over your nipples until they stiffened beneath the fabric. He gave a sharp little pinch that made you whine, your body jolting forward as your thighs tensed around Jake.

"I don't think she's learned her lesson though," Jay muttered, rolling your nipples between his fingers lazily.

"She looks sorry," Jake said, but his eyes were locked on your glistening cunt. "But I don't think that mouth means anything until it's begging."

Jake dropped to his knees between your legs, mouth already parting as he pressed it against your heat. He pushed the fabric aside with one hand and gave your folds a slow, deliberate lick that made your head fall back against the mirror.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, voice shaking. "I mean it—please. I'm really sorry!"

Jake didn't answer. He just groaned against your pussy, his tongue flicking against your clit. The vibrations made your thighs clench around his head, but he held you in place, grip firm, unmoved by your squirming.

Jay chuckled above you. "That's one. Keep counting." He leaned in closer, lips brushing your ear. "You don't get to say you're sorry once and expect it's over, sweetheart."

"I am, I swear—" you gasped as Jake sucked your clit into his mouth, making your hips jerk. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Jake. Jay, please—please forgive me..."

Jay's hand slid lower, fingers trailing a heated path down your trembling stomach. His hand slipped between your thighs, right above Jake's head, and his fingers found your clit in seconds, rubbing slow, tight circles in contrast to the deeper movements of Jake's tongue.

The combination made your head tilt back, a cry caught in your throat.

Jake groaned against you, the sound buzzing through your core as he pushed his tongue into your hole, fucking you with slow, deep strokes. His nose nudged against Jay's fingers as he worked in tandem.

Jay's free hand found your breast again, making your shirt up to your collarbone and exposing your skin. His fingers found your nipple in your bra, pinching it between his knuckles until your back arched involuntarily.

Jake pulled back just enough to speak. "She tastes like guilt," he muttered before dipping back in. This time, his tongue flattened against your slit, licking long and firm, each pass rougher than the last.

"I am guilty!" you cried out, voice cracking as your fingers clutched the edge of the counter. "I fucked up—I know I did, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—I missed you, both of you—"

Jay didn't respond right away. His thumb rose to your throat, brushing the hollow there gently, deceptively.  "You're not forgiven yet," he said calmly. "But keep begging. Maybe we'll believe you."

Jake moaned into your cunt, tongue working harder, faster, burying himself in your heat while his grip on your thighs tightened, nails biting into your flesh to keep you still.

Your body arched reflexively, head pressed hard against the mirror behind you. The cold glass was a cruel contrast to the fever building inside you, the friction between their mouths and fingers making your thoughts blur and your words tumble out in desperate, breathless gasps.

"I'm sorry—please, I'm so sorry—Jake, Jay—don't stop, please—don't leave me—I'll do anything—"

"You will do anything," Jay murmured, lips brushing your jaw as he kept one hand working your clit and the other still wrapped around your throat. "But that doesn't mean we're done punishing you."

Jake pulled back just long enough to spit on your cunt, watching it drip down before diving back in.

"Y-Yes, yes, yes..." you breathed. A few strands of your hair had fallen across your face, clinging to your flushed cheeks. Jay tsked under his breath, brushing the messy hair away with care. His fingers swept your temple, tucking the strands behind your ear to clear the view. He wanted to watch your face, every twitch, every tremble, every silent plea written across your features.

Jake's tongue flicked over your clit again, followed by a slow, deep press inside. Your thighs shook against his shoulders, toes curling over the edge of the counter.

"You don't even know which one of us you're moaning for, do you?" Jay whispered.

"I c-can't—" you whimpered, breath stuttering. "I'm sorry—Jake, Jay—I'm sorry, I swear—please..."

Jake growled softly between your legs, like your apology alone made him want more. He shifted his angle, tongue plunging deep as his nose rubbed against your clit, creating friction that made your spine arch and your head knock back into the mirror again with a dull thud.

Jay caught your head this time, hand sliding behind your skull, fingers threading through your hair.

"You'll come like this," Jay murmured, his lips brushing yours without closing the distance. "On his tongue, with my hand around your throat, and every breath you take will be ours."

"Jake—fuck!—Jay—I'm—" You choked on your own voice, the climax coiling inside you about to snap.

Jake didn't slow. His tongue moved in steady, ruthless strokes. His grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you anchored, legs trembling under the weight of everything he was drawing from you.

Jay's hand remained firm around your throat, not choking but holding. His thumb pressed lightly just beneath your jaw, grounding you as the rest of your body lost control. His eyes stayed locked on yours, watching every flicker of surrender build in your face.

"Look at me," he ordered softly. "Don't look away."

You tried—God, you tried—but your vision blurred with tears and white-hot pleasure, your eyes fluttering, lashes damp as you clung to consciousness. "I—can't—" you gasped, every breath shallow, high-pitched.

Jay leaned in, brushing his mouth against yours without kissing you. "You can," he whispered. "You will."

Jake's mouth locked around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking fast, perfectly cruel. One hand slid beneath your ass, lifting you just enough to change the angle, and the pressure hit exactly where you needed it. The world around you fractured.

Your entire body arched.

A scream tore from your throat as Jay's hand held your windpipe and Jake's tongue forced you over the edge. Your vision went white behind your eyelids, every nerve in your body seizing with the violence of your orgasm. Your thighs clamped around Jake's head involuntarily, hips grinding into his mouth.

"There it is," Jay growled, watching the climax crash through you. "Fuck, that's it. That's what sorry looks like."

You sobbed, mouth open and shaking as aftershocks rolled through you, making your legs twitch, your fingers slip on the counter's edge.

Jake didn't stop right away. He licked you through it, each drag of his tongue coaxing every last tremor from your core. Only when your body jerked from overstimulation did he finally pull away, mouth slick, chin wet, his breath ragged.

"Goddamn," he muttered, voice rough as he looked up at you from between your legs. "Still the sweetest fucking thing I've ever tasted."

Jay eased his grip on your throat and let your head fall forward against his shoulder. You collapsed into the space between them, boneless, panting, your body trembling and used, your voice lost somewhere.

Jake rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he reached for his waistband. He was flushed, breath ragged, hands already moving to undo his pants. You lifted your head weakly, eyes wide, still dazed as you looked up at Jay. "A-Are we really doing this? In here?"

Jay arched a brow. "Jake just had his mouth buried in your pussy," he said smoothly. "Don't start playing modest now. Don't be selfish."

Jake let out a sharp breath as he freed himself, hissing softly as his hand wrapped around his cock.

Your breathing hitched when he stepped in closer. He lined himself up with you, the swollen head of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding up through your folds, collecting the wetness there before grinding it against your clit.

You whimpered at the friction. "My back hurts..." you managed to stammer out. "It's... it's uncomfortable."

Jake didn't even flinch, he pushed in his whole length into you in one motion. You both moaned at the feeling.

"We'll make it comfortable." Jake growled, breath hot against your cheek as he gripped your waist. 

Without warning, he lifted you off the counter, his hands strong under your thighs. You let out a startled gasp, your legs instinctively locking around his hips as he held you up with ease. His cock stayed buried inside you as he adjusted his grip, settling you in against him.

"Ahh—Jake!" you cried out as he began to move, bouncing you on his cock. Every thrust drove him deeper, the sound of skin on skin echoing sharp against the cold tile walls. Jay moved without a word. He slipped in behind you, one hand found your hip, steadying you as your body jolted from Jake's pounding pace, while the other reached up, sliding to seize your breast.

"God, fuck—" Jake groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your damp skin before he started kissing and biting, not caring about the sweat.

Jay's mouth found your shoulder first, then your throat, trailing wet kisses up your jaw until he reached your lips. Your head lolled back against him, mouth already open, and he took full advantage—tongue slipping between your lips, swallowing the moans Jake was forcing from your chest.

You whimpered into Jay's mouth, his cock grinding against your lower back, the friction syncing with every bounce of your hips. Your body moved helplessly between them, each movement rubbing him against you, closer... lower...

"You're so fucking wet," Jake growled against your throat. "I can feel it all over me." He thrust harder, teeth grazing your shoulder as he panted.

Jay broke the kiss with a sharp nip to your bottom lip, tugging until you gasped. "I think we'll fit," he said, voice low, eyes flicking down to where your bodies met. "Don't you think?"

Your heart lurched.

Your eyes widened as you felt Jake adjust his stance, your weight shifting in his arms. Your body tensed immediately, the pressure at your core tightening to near-panic. "Wait! W-Wait—!" you stammered, breath catching in your throat.

Jay was already positioning himself, one hand on your lower back, the other on Jake's hip for balance as he leaned in. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before you felt it—his cockhead, thick and hard, pressing lower just beneath where Jake was already buried inside you.

The angle was careful. Slick with your arousal and the lingering wetness of Jake's earlier mouthwork, Jay began to push slow his shaft grinding against Jake's through the tight squeeze of your entrance, the pressure unbearable even before he was fully inside.

Jake slowed immediately, holding you tighter in his arms, breath ragged against your cheek. His voice was low, firm, grounding.

"Relax for him. Breathe. You can take it."

But your body was shaking, the stretch is too intense, and too foreign.

"Fuck! I can't—" The words tore from your throat, panic bleeding into your tone—cut off almost instantly when Jake surged forward and kissed you. His mouth swallowed your cry as Jay began to sink in, splitting you further, claiming space that wasn't there.

Your entire body tensed, clutching, pulsing, your walls clamping down instinctively on both cocks as they shifted inside you, working together to make room.

Both men moaned low in your ears. "Shit," Jake gasped into your mouth, breaking the kiss just to breathe. "Fuck, she's tight—Jay—go slow."

Jay's groan was more guttural, his lips brushing your shoulder. "I am—she's gripping us like she's trying to push us out."

You whimpered as your body was forced to take it—all of it. The thick drag of Jay's cock sliding in alongside Jake's, every inch of your walls stretched to their absolute limit, friction pressing between them, heat building inside you so violently it made your toes curl.

Their hips pressed in unison, the base of their cocks grinding together deep inside you, buried to the hilt. You could feel them inside each other through you, the shared space, the impossible pressure, the slow pulse of them twitching inside your cunt, both thick and deep and so full it.

Jay hissed, forehead pressed to your back. Your mouth hung open, panting. All you could do was hold on—legs locked around Jake's waist, arms limp around his shoulders, your body trembling violently between them.

You couldn't tell where the pain ended and the pleasure began.

Jake's head dropped to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. "I can feel him," he whispered. "Fuck, I can feel him moving through you."

Jay's hand shifted from your hip to Jake's jaw, guiding his face upward. Their bodies pressed so close, only you between them, joined not just through you, but with you.

Jay leaned in, lips met Jake's, tongues brushing, mouths sliding together as their hips shifted slightly, still buried inside you. Their kiss deepened quickly, tongues pressing hard, teeth grazing. Jake groaned into it, when he pulled back from Jay only to kiss you next.

His lips claimed yours fast, almost needy—salt and sweat and desperation—and Jay didn't wait. He was already kissing along your neck, up behind your ear, while his hand slid between you to stroke your clit with slow circles.

The shift in pace was dizzying. They weren't pounding into you. Not yet. They were just holding you. Deep, warm, kissing, mouths trading between you and each other.

Jake finally broke the kiss, forehead pressed to yours as he whispered, "You feel like heaven right now."

Jay's mouth brushed your shoulder again. "She's shaking. Poor thing's too full to even speak."

Your fingers digging into Jake's shoulders, back arching slowly. The pressure of them both still lodged inside you kept your body humming with tension.

Jay kissed the side of Jake's mouth again before murmuring, "Move with me, baby."

Jake nodded once. They shifted. And then, slowly, carefully, they began to move.

One would pull back while the other pressed in, your body stretching and clenching around the rhythm. It was slower than before, more controlled, but no less overwhelming. The glide of two thick cocks inside you, perfectly in sync, had your body twitching, tears pricking your lashes again.

Their mouths kept moving, on your throat, on each other, across flushed skin and slick shoulders. They didn't speak much, just low moans, shuddered breaths, the soft slap of bodies finding rhythm again. Jay's hand never left your clit. Jake's arms held you close.

"Stay with us," Jake whispered into your mouth, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

"Don't run next time," Jay added, his voice deep in your ear. "We just want to keep you." And their cocks kept moving, slow and deep and together, keeping you open, full, and exactly where you belonged.

Jake shifted slightly beneath you, adjusting his stance, the grip on your thighs tightening as he found more control in his movement. The slow rhythm gave way to more deeper, and faster, his hips slapping up with wet, rhythmic sounds that bounced off the walls.

The moans pouring from you grew louder. You were unraveling again, overstimulated, but your legs refused to stop twitching, clinging around Jake's waist as your hands clawed at anything for purchase—his shoulders, Jay's neck, the edge of the mirror behind you.

A sudden sound echoing outside, footstep and people murmuring as they pass by. Panic stabbed into your chest. You froze for a moment, instinct flaring, shame bubbling up behind your ribs. The reality of where you were hit hard—legs wrapped around one man, another flush to your back, both of them inside you, fucking you, right there in the university bathroom.

But the pleasure didn't stop. You twitched, thighs squeezing reflexively, a cry caught in your throat. "Someone's—"

Jay's hand came up instantly, cupping the side of your face as he leaned in, swallowing your next sound with a kiss. His mouth sealed over yours just as Jake drove up harder, his thrust knocking the breath from your lungs, forcing the moan straight into Jay's waiting tongue.

"Let them hear," Jake hissed, voice rough against your skin, his pace unrelenting now. "Let them wonder who's making you sound like that."

The footsteps outside faded, but your heartbeat didn't slow. It thundered in your chest, driven by both fear and the savage pleasure coursing through your nerves.

Jay broke the kiss with a strand of spit between your lips, eyes half-lidded, and flushed. "You're squeezing us like you want to get caught," he murmured, fingers slipping between your bodies to rub your clit again, drawing a fresh, keening whimper from your throat.

Every drag of their shafts against each other inside your overstretched cunt sent aftershocks through your core, your body trembling violently with each grind and press. The feeling of them rubbing together inside you, separated only by the thin, spasming walls of your body, wasn't just overwhelming—it was ruinous.

"F-Fuck," Jake choked, hips jolting up hard. The impact of his thrust slammed you forward into Jay's chest, your breath ripped from you as your body tried—and failed—to brace for the intensity.

Jay grunted, catching your body easily, his hand fisting your hair as he held you in place. His cock surged deeper alongside Jake's, the slick sound of their movements inside you impossibly loud in the quiet space.

"Can't hold it," Jake panted, sweat dripping from his temple, breath stuttering. "She's—she's so tight I can feel you through her—fuck, Jay—"

Jay growled, his own control shattering with every convulsion of your clenching walls. You could barely think anymore—your mouth hung open, no words left, only broken gasps and sobs as your body tightened around them again. The pressure had built too fast. It rolled up from your core, cresting so high you couldn't breathe.

Your orgasm hit hard. It exploded through your abdomen, a pulsing, electric burst of heat that seized every muscle. You screamed, not even a word, just sound—your voice breaking as your cunt clenched violently around them, walls spasming uncontrollably.

"Fuck—" Jake snarled, the rhythm of his hips shattering.

He slammed in once more, his cock jerking violently inside you as he came with a rough moan, hot pulses of cum flooding your cunt. You felt every spurt, thick and hot and deep, and the sensation of being filled only sent another shiver of pleasure rolling through your already-fractured nerves.

Jay wasn't far behind. Your body's violent squeezing around both cocks at once pushed him over the edge—his thrusts turned erratic, hard, his breath tearing through his chest.

"Gonna fill you up," he groaned against your throat, voice ragged, hips pressing as deep as they could go. "You're gonna take all of it."

Then he came. You felt the way his cock throbbed next to Jake's inside you, the rush of hot fluid spilling in, mixing with Jake's release, both of them pouring into the same aching space. Their hips jerked in sync, involuntary tremors shaking them as your body held them tight, refusing to let go.

Your own climax still burned through you, wave after wave wracking your limbs, your nails digging into Jake's shoulders as your vision blurred.

You were just there, caught between their shaking bodies. They didn't pull out. They stayed inside you, panting, foreheads pressed to your skin, arms wrapped tight around your waist. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the soft whisper of sweat-slicked skin, the occasional stuttered groan as aftershocks rolled through all three of you.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours. "Fuck," he breathed. "You're so beautiful."

Jay's hand came up to stroke your side. "No more running, okay?" he murmured, his lips brushing your temple as he spoke. "We're going to talk this time. Really talk."

You tried to nod, but your head only shifted slightly. A soft, low hum escaped your throat as your vision swam and your body slumped against Jake's chest. Everything ached. You weren't sure if your legs were still attached, or if you'd ever feel your core without that deep, burning throb again.

It had been so long since you'd let yourself be used like that... and even longer since it had ever felt like this. Safe. Claimed. Held.

Jake was the first to move, easing himself out of you. You whimpered faintly at the loss, but even that sound felt distant in your own ears.

"Hey," he whispered, fingertips brushing your cheek. He tapped gently, calling your name. "Hey, come back to me, baby."

But you couldn't answer. Your eyes were half-open, glazed with exhaustion. Your body limp between them. There was no strength left in your limbs just the slow throb of overstimulation and the deep, quiet ache that said you'd been pushed right to the edge of yourself.

Jake's expression changed instantly. "Shit—she's out of it," he muttered, voice sharp with guilt.

Jay's brows furrowed. "She's overwhelmed. Fuck."

Together, they moved quickly, shifting their grips. Jake bent to retrieve his pants, tugging them up with one arm while the other held you carefully to his chest. Your body sagged against him, boneless but trusting, your cheek pressed to the slick skin of his shoulder. "I've got her," Jake said quietly.

Jay adjusted himself quickly, stepping in to help. His hands cupped your thighs, his gaze scanning your face. "We need to get her cleaned up. Somewhere soft."

"Yeah," Jake agreed, his hand smoothing the back of your hair.

You couldn't speak—not really. You were too far gone, too worn down in the sweetest, most bone-deep way.

But you felt them. You felt the tissue as they wiped between your legs, cleaning their combined mess from your trembling thighs. Another passed over your face, cool and damp, brushing away the sticky sheen of sweat and the tears you didn't remember shedding. Fingers were tender as they tucked your hair back, smoothing it down, and you sighed softly into the sensation.

Jake carried you effortlessly, holding you to his chest. You felt Jay beside you, one hand steadying your legs as they moved together. Their voices were hushed now, murmurs exchanged just beyond your hearing, their steps soft against the tile.

When the door opened, the shift in air hit instantly—cool and dry from the hallway's air conditioning, raising goosebumps across your flushed skin.

You managed one last, drowsy breath as the cool air washed over you. Then your eyelids dropped.

You stirred slowly, the first thing you felt was warmth. A soft bed cradled your body, the sheets cool against your bare skin, but it was the sensation wrapped around your waist that anchored you. The scent pressing against your back was just as recognizable—clean sweat, faint cologne, and something uniquely him.

You blinked slowly, your lashes fluttering against your cheeks before you opened your eyes fully.

Your head was nestled into the crook of someone’s neck. His skin was warm beneath your cheek, his heartbeat a steady thrum beneath your ear. You shifted slightly, body still sore and heavy, and looked up.

Jake was watching you, eyes soft. He rubbed slow circles against your side with the pad of his thumb, his other hand still resting gently across your waist, holding you close.

“Hi,” he whispered. 

You managed a small, sleepy smile. “Hi. How long was I out?” you asked, blinking again to clear the haze still lingering behind your eyes.

Jake exhaled through his nose, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “About an hour,” he murmured. 

Your brows knit faintly, and he brushed a thumb along your temple. “Don’t worry,” he added with a soft smile. “We covered for you. Told them you fainted because of the heat—overexerted, nothing serious.”

You let out a quiet laugh, the sound dry in your throat. “Technically not a lie…”

Jake’s grin widened just slightly, a playful glint flickering behind the softness in his eyes. “Mm. They don’t need the exact details.”

You gave a breath of a laugh, but it faded quickly as your gaze lingered on his face—the gentle curve of his smile, the creases near his eyes, the way he was watching you so closely.

 “Jake…” your voice came out small.

He stilled, but his thumb never stopped moving on your side. “Yeah?”

You hesitated, the flood of everything you’d been trying to suppress surged up your throat. You swallowed it down once, then let it rise.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For avoiding you. For running off. For shutting down instead of just…” You trailed off, sighing as your brows pulled together. “I was scared.”

Jake’s lips parted slightly, his grip on you tightening for a moment before he pulled you in closer, pressing your cheek against his chest. You felt the beat of his heart against your skin.

“I didn’t know what to do with what I was feeling,” you continued. "I started… caring. And that made everything messy. Because you and Jay—you’re already whole. You don’t need someone like me getting in the middle of that.”

Jake was silent, listening, his hand still tracing soft patterns into your skin.

“And I kept thinking…” You swallowed hard. “If I let myself fall deeper, I’ll only be the one who ends up hurt. Like I’d ruin what you both already have. That I didn’t deserve it, any of it.”

He finally spoke, his voice low. “Why didn’t you just tell us that?”

“I didn’t know how,” you admitted. “And then when I saw the two of you together, being so perfect—it made me realize how small my place in this is. Or… was.”

Jake shook his head, exhaling as he tilted your face up gently with his fingers. “You think we’re perfect?” he said, a sad sort of smile curling at the corners of his lips. “We’re not. We’ve made mistakes. We didn’t talk about a lot of things. But one thing we were sure of?” His thumb brushed across your cheekbone. “We both want you.”

Jake's thumbs caressed the apples of your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. His breath was warm as he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes closing briefly. “I’m sorry we didn’t make it clearer,” he whispered. “We thought we were showing you—through touch, through time, through every little thing we did. But we never said it. And maybe that’s where we messed up.”

You blinked back the heat behind your eyes, your throat tightening. Jake’s fingers brushed under your jaw, coaxing you to look at him again.

“We want you,” he said, “In every way. Not just in our bed. Not just when it’s convenient. We want you in our life. You’ve already made space in it—you didn’t ruin anything.”

You let out a shaky breath, and before you could stop yourself, you pressed your face into the crook of his neck again, seeking warmth, shelter, reassurance. His arms wrapped tighter around you.

“And Jay?” you asked quietly, voice muffled against his skin.

Jake chuckled softly, the sound a little choked. “Jay’s downstairs trying to pretend he’s not pacing. He’s been wanting to talk to you too. But I asked him to give me this moment first.” He pulled back just enough to brush your hair from your face. “You mean more to him than you think.” 

The soft knock came, Jake didn’t move right away, just held your gaze, giving you a choice without saying a word. When you gave the smallest nod, he leaned over and called out gently, “It’s okay. Come in.”

The door cracked open, and Jay stepped inside. His eyes immediately found yours, and the moment they did, the edge in his posture melted. He wasn’t guarded like he usually was.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, stepping closer.

Jake shifted slightly to make space on the bed, and Jay took it without question. He sat on the edge first, then leaned in beside you, bracing one hand on the mattress near your hip.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Sore,” you said, voice raspy with sleep. “Like I got hit by a very… affectionate truck.”

That pulled a laugh from both of them. Jake’s body vibrated behind you with the sound, and Jay let out a quiet chuckle as he rubbed a hand gently over your knee, his thumb brushing just above where the blanket had slipped.

“Sorry,” Jay murmured, though the smirk was playing at his mouth now. “Not sorry.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him when he bent down and pressed a kiss to your temple. His lips lingered there for a beat longer than expected. When he pulled back, he looked more serious. 

“No more running,” he said quietly, “I’m not great with… talking. Feelings. All that shit.” He scratched the back of his neck, eyes flicking down briefly before returning to yours. “But I want this. I want you."

Jake let out a quiet huff behind you, shifting closer as he nuzzled the back of your shoulder. “He’s always like that,” he whispered, “I was the one who confessed first. Initiated the first kiss. First sex.”

Jay’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “You asshole,” he muttered.

“You blushed when I touched your wrist,” Jake added, grinning now.

“I was cold,” Jay shot back. You laughed then soft, but real—and both of them stilled like they’d been waiting for the sound. Jake’s smile softened, and Jay, still glaring at his boyfriend.

Jake grinned wider. “He literally couldn’t make eye contact for twenty-four hours after we slept together the first time.”

“I hate you,” Jay muttered, but he was already reaching for you again, hand slipping beneath the blanket to rest on your stomach, drawing you back toward him as he curled in behind.

“You don’t,” Jake replied, smirking as he met your gaze. “He just never knows how to say the nice shit.”

“I will push you off this bed,” Jay warned to keep Jake from opening his mouth again. “Then we’ll fall together,” Jake countered smoothly, wrapping an arm tighter around your waist.

You sank into their warmth, nestled between their bodies. You turned your face slightly, resting your cheek against Jay’s collarbone while one of your hands found Jake’s under the blanket.

For a long, comforting moment, no one spoke. Then, quietly, Jay’s voice rumbled near your ear. “Were we too rough earlier?”

You shook your head without hesitation, cheek still pressed to his collarbone. “No. I needed it,” you murmured, honest and calm. “It pushed me out of my head. That’s what I needed.”

Jake’s hand tightened slightly around yours, and he smiled softly. “So… are we okay now?”

You turned your head toward him, lips curving with amusement. “That depends,” you said. “Was that makeup sex?”

Jake raised a brow, mouth twitching. “Wait—that wasn’t?”

Jay snorted behind you. “If that was just a warm-up, I’m scared to know what the actual makeup sex is supposed to look like.”

You laughed, low and a little breathless, the sound making both of them smile wider.

“I guess we’ll have to do it again,” Jake said, voice dropping just enough to make the tease linger. “Y’know. For clarity.”

It didn’t take long. Clothes were shed, tossed carelessly across the floor—shirts half-inside out, underwear tangled near the foot of the bed. You were on your back with Jake above you, his mouth on yours, his tongue moving with a tenderness that made your body ache all over again.

Then Jay moved. You barely had time to gasp before his hand curled into Jake’s hair, tugging sharply. Jake groaned into your mouth, the kiss breaking as Jay pulled him back.

“Not so fast,” Jay said, “You had your turn.”

He dragged Jake down the length of the bed, making him twist and arch, until Jake’s head was between your thighs, his back curved beautifully under Jay’s grip. Jake didn’t resist—he melted into the position, groaning as he inhaled the scent of you, mouth finding your cunt.

You gasped, your legs parting without thought. The sting from earlier still lingered, but it was chased by the familiar, glorious heat of Jake’s mouth. He licked into you slowly at first, tongue stroking over your clit.

Your back arched as he moaned against your folds, his face buried deeper. “F-fuck, Jake—” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, hips twitching against his face.

Jay watched from behind him, one hand stroking down Jake’s spine, the other trailing lower. You didn’t see the moment he slipped his fingers between Jake’s cheeks, but you felt the way Jake moaned louder against your cunt, hips jerking slightly as Jay began working him open.

“Want to see you fuck him,” you breathed, voice cracked with need. “Please. I want to watch.”

Jake whimpered into your pussy, tongue fucking you deeper in response. Jay’s eyes lifted to yours. His fingers were slowly pushing into Jake. “She wants a show,” he said, leaning in to kiss Jake’s neck. “You gonna be good for her?”

Jake moaned again, his voice muffled by your cunt, and you tightened your grip in his hair, nails dragging across his scalp.

Jay’s hand slid away briefly, and you heard the soft click of the drawer beside the bed opening. A moment later, the quiet sound of a bottle opening filled the space. Cool lube met skin, and Jay didn’t hesitate—he returned to Jake’s body with a steady hand, working the slick between his cheeks.

Jake whimpered again, body shuddering beneath both of you. Jay kept stretching him, fingers moving in slow, deep circles, curling and scissoring in a rhythm that made Jake pant harder against your pussy. His mouth never stopped licking, sucking, groaning into your folds with more desperation the more he was opened up.

You looked down and nearly lost your breath at the sight: Jake’s flushed face buried between your legs, his lips wet and glistening, while Jay knelt behind him, eyes dark, and focused as his fingers slick, sliding in and out of Jake’s ass with increasing ease.

Jake was trembling now, his thighs twitched against the sheets, and you could hear the breathless hitch in his throat each time Jay’s fingers pressed just right inside him.

“She’s gonna see how good you take it." Jake moaned hard against your clit, and you cried out—your hips bucking into his face. He didn’t stop. If anything, he devoured you harder, tongue working you open.

Jay leaned forward, pressing a kiss between Jake’s shoulder blades. “You ready for me, sweetheart?”

Jake’s reply was only a ragged whine, and it made your pulse spike.

“Please,” you said softly, the only voice in the room not breaking. Jay’s eyes flicked to yours, gaze locking for one searing moment. Then he leaned forward, hand steady on Jake’s lower back, and began to push in.

Jake let out a strangled groan against your cunt, his tongue faltering for a heartbeat before diving back in with renewed force. Your legs tightened around his head, your hips rising helplessly into his mouth.

“Good boy,” Jay breathed, voice thick as he slid deeper. “Keep eating her.”

Jake moaned again, the vibration pulsing through your clit as Jay’s cock pressed deeper inside him. You could feel Jake struggling to hold rhythm, overwhelmed by the dual sensations—his mouth locked to your cunt while Jay slowly filled him from behind.

Jake’s fingers were clutching your hips, knuckles pale, his lips slick with your arousal as he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again—desperate, hungry, obedient. Behind him, Jay moved with a slow, grinding pace, hips rolling forward, burying himself inch by inch into Jake’s tight, slicked hole.

“Shit,” Jay groaned, head dropping for a second as his hands gripped Jake’s waist.

Jake whined against you, hips pushing back to meet Jay’s thrusts even as his mouth stayed locked on you, his tongue circling your clit in dizzying spirals. You could feel him moaning again and again.

Your hand threaded deeper into Jake’s hair, pulling tight, guiding his mouth where you needed him as your hips rolled shamelessly against his face. His moans were frantic now, high-pitched, especially when Jay snapped his hips forward harder—burying himself to the hilt. 

His tongue was relentless, and the pressure was building again in your core, fast and burning, pulled taut by every flick of his mouth, every grind of Jay’s cock rocking through him from behind.

You were right on the edge—suspended between pleasure and the raw thrill of watching them together.

Jay’s rhythm grew rougher, his groans more ragged. One hand slipped from Jake’s hip to curl around his waist, holding him in place, deepening every thrust. The wet slap of skin filled the room, matched by the obscene, eager sounds of Jake’s mouth on your cunt.

Your back arched. Your breath hitched. “I’m—fuck—Jake!” you cried, your orgasm tearing through you. 

Jake moaned loud and deep into you as you came, your body spasming under his tongue, your legs clamping around his head as your hands tangled tight in his hair. You rode it out on his mouth, grinding into him, the pressure of Jay’s thrusts making Jake groan right through your high, pushing you even further.

Your body melted into the sheets, chest heaving, but your eyes stayed locked on the scene unraveling in front of you.

Jay didn’t relent. He adjusted his grip, arms slipping under Jake’s chest to haul him higher, fucking into him harder from behind with a pace that was nothing short of brutal. His skin slapped against Jake’s ass with wet, relentless rhythm, and Jake took it beautifully—his moans muffled, body twitching with every deep thrust.

You watched them, your lips parted, breath shallow. Both their faces were flushed and wild, lost in each other. And instead of jealousy, the sight only fed the fire already burning in your gut. The ache that never really went away around them now pulsed hotter, deeper.

Jake’s voice broke as he moaned loud enough to echo through the room. “Jay, baby—oh fuck!”

Jay reached up, tangled a fist in Jake’s hair, and yanked him back just enough to crush their mouths together. The kiss was messy, desperate, teeth clashing, tongues sliding, both of them breathing into each other’s mouths.

The noise of it made you whine. You couldn’t stay still. You crawled forward on shaky limbs, eyes locked on Jake’s cock, thick and flushed and bouncing wildly with every one of Jay’s thrusts.

Your hand wrapped around it in one slow, sure stroke, and Jake shouted into Jay’s mouth. Jay pulled back just slightly, his eyes flicking down to see your hand wrapped tightly around Jake’s length, pumping him in time with the rhythm of their bodies.

Jake’s head fell back, hips jerking forward into your touch, his stomach tight and trembling. His mouth opened in a silent gasp, then a broken moan when you dragged your thumb over his leaking tip, smearing the precum down his shaft.

“Fuck,” he choked, voice shaking. “That—God, that feels so good.”

Jay groaned behind him, his rhythm stuttering just for a second at the sight in front of him. His gaze dropped to where your fingers wrapped around Jake’s cock—your nails catching the light, long and perfectly shaped, moving over him in steady, merciless pumps.

He hissed through his teeth, fucking into Jake harder. Jake moaned again, louder this time, his whole body pushing back into Jay while thrusting forward into your hand. His eyes fluttered open, hazy and wild as they met yours, lips parted.

Jay’s voice cut. “Lay down, baby.”

You blinked, heart pounding. You released Jake’s cock with one last stroke, watching his hips twitch at the loss, and moved backward on the bed without a word. You lay back across the pillows, your legs parting instinctively as you settled into the space, your body already pulsing in anticipation.

Jay pulled out of Jake with a slick, wet sound, his hand curling around Jake’s hip to steady him. “Come on,” he said, gaze flicking to Jake, then to you. “Enter that pussy and ride my dick.”

Jake didn’t wait. He crawled over you immediately, his hands braced on either side of your shoulders, and with one fluid motion, he lined himself up and sank into you.

You gasped, hands flying to his shoulders, nails biting into his skin as the stretch hit you hard all over again. Your walls were still sensitive, still twitching from your last orgasm, and now he was filling you again.

Behind him, Jay didn’t waste time. He adjusted, positioned himself, and with one slow, deliberate push, slid back into Jake’s ass.

"Ahhh!" Jake’s whole body jolted. A strangled sound caught in his throat, mouth crashing into yours in a kiss that was sloppy, all tongue and open breath. His hips began to move almost immediately, short shallow thrusts between your legs while Jay drove into him from behind.

“F-fuck,” Jake moaned into your mouth, pulling back only to drop his lips to your throat. He bit down hard—just enough to make you cry out—then dragged his mouth lower, tongue hot on your skin as he kissed, licked, and bit his way down to your collarbone.

Your fingers clutched at his back, and every time he thrust forward into you, it was followed by the shock of Jay’s cock driving him forward again—his motion caught between both your bodies.

Jake was trembling, moaning louder than ever, his rhythm completely overtaken by Jay’s pace. Every thrust from behind forced him deeper into you, the sensation nearly too much. His moans spilled against your throat, turning into helpless gasps as his cock slid in and out of your soaked cunt.

His voice broke in short, frantic cries. “Jay! Jay—please, baby, oh God—”

His mouth returned to your neck, teeth scraping the skin before he latched on, biting down with desperate force. The sharp sting drew a gasp from you, the pain blooming into pleasure just as Jake’s hips jolted forward again, burying himself to the base.

He held there for a moment—frozen, panting, his breath hot against your skin. His back was slick with sweat beneath your palms, muscles twitching under your touch.

Then he pulled back, just enough for you to see his face. His lips parted, breath shaky and shallow. His eyes were unfocused, lashes wet, the flush across his cheeks deep and burning. He looked wrecked, and completely beautiful—mouth closed now.

You clenched around him involuntarily. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. “So fucked-out.”

Your hips rose instinctively, pushing up into him, your body begging for more, for all of it.

Jake let out a shuddering groan. He rolled his hips again, slow and deep, and the way you took him made him press his forehead to yours.

Behind him, Jay didn’t slow. He was pounding into him with brutal control, groaning with every thrust, his grip locked tight around Jake’s hips to keep him in place. You could feel each stroke reverberate through Jake's body, transferring into yours.

“F-Feels so good—ahh, fuck—feel so good!” Jake cried out, voice cracking, mouth open in a moan that bordered on a sob.

You reached up with a shaky hand, brushing the damp strands of hair from his face, your thumb stroking gently along his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch, lips trembling, eyes half-lidded and glassy.

Your body clenched again, the pressure cresting high, unbearable and exquisite.

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, hips lifting to meet his every desperate thrust. “Jake—cum with me, please—ahh—now!”

Jake’s breath hitched, his hips faltered before he slammed into you one final time, burying himself deep. His entire body seized, a loud, gasping moan torn from his chest as he came hard, cock pulsing inside you with wave after wave of heat.

You fell with him, your orgasm ripped through you, stealing the breath from your lungs as your cunt clenched around him, milking every drop of his release. Your cry echoed into his mouth as he kissed you again.

“Fuck—both of you are so hot—God—”

Jay’s pace grew rougher, deeper, his restraint unraveling with every breathless sound spilling from Jake’s lips, every clench of your cunt around Jake’s cock. He watched you both, panting, his hands gripping Jake’s hips so tightly his knuckles had gone pale.

“Fucking hell,” Jay growled. Jake moaned again, overstimulated and soft, his forehead still resting against yours as Jay buried himself one last time with a low groan, 

You felt it in Jake’s shudder, the way his breath stilled as Jay’s cock throbbed deep inside him. The sound Jay made as he emptied himself, his body pressing tight to Jake’s back.

Jay was the first to exhale, his lips ghosting over the back of Jake’s neck as he slowly eased out. Jake let out a soft whimper, his body twitching from the sensitivity, and you wrapped your arms tighter around him, one hand sliding over his spine.

Jake collapsed onto you gently, his full weight cushioned by your body, his cheek pressed to your shoulder as he panted, still flushed and wet with heat. You stroked his hair, letting your fingers card slowly through the damp strands.

Jay shifted beside you, climbing up the bed on unsteady arms before dropping down on your other side. His chest was heaving, he wrapped one arm around your waist, hand splayed across your stomach, fingers brushing softly against your skin.

Jake tilted his face up to look at you. “You okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded, stroking his cheek. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Better than okay.”

Jake gave a breathless laugh, burying his face briefly into the crook of your neck. “Fuck,” he groaned, still catching his breath. “That was the most delicious orgasm I’ve ever had."

You chuckled, breath hitching a little as you threaded your fingers into his hair again.

Jay leaned in from your other side, his body pressing close, his mouth trailing a soft kiss along your shoulder before brushing Jake’s temple. His arm wrapped around the both of you, pulling you tighter into the warmth of him. Your legs tangled instinctively, bodies nestled under the sheets that now clung to the lingering heat of sex and skin.

None of you spoke for a moment, the silence stretching comfortably between heartbeats and shallow breaths.

Then you glanced between them, your voice still breathless. “So…” you murmured, a small smile pulling at your lips. “Does this mean I have two boyfriends now?”

Jake’s head popped up slightly, a crooked grin forming. “Only if you’re okay being heavily spoiled and never allowed to escape.”

Jay made a quiet sound of amusement beside you, his thumb brushing a lazy line along your hip. “We’re clingy,” he said, voice low, eyes half-lidded but sincere. “Terrible at sharing. Lucky for us, we just want the same person.”

You laughed, letting yourself melt back into the weight of them, your body still pulsing with quiet aftershocks and warmth. “I think I can live with that,” you said softly, eyes fluttering closed as their hands continued to drift gently over your skin.

And then you suddenly remember something. Your eyes snapped open as panic surged through your chest.

“Shit—Sunoo!”

You shot up so fast that the blanket fell off your chest and Jake practically flinched, startled, his sleepy post-orgasm daze completely shattered. Jay blinked at you from behind, frowning in confusion. Then he realizes what you meant.

“Sunoo!!!”

Jake’s voice echoed across the grassy field the next day, dramatically over-the-top as he broke into a slow-motion sprint—arms wide, expression exaggerated with mock desperation.

You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath, trailing behind him with your fingers laced through Jay’s. Sunoo, on the other hand, stood perfectly still ahead, arms crossed, expression locked in a glare.

Just as Jake went in for a hug, Sunoo’s palm came up and smacked him square across the face—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to jolt the dramatics right out of him. Jake stumbled back, blinking.

“You didn’t text, you didn’t call, and my best friend just disappeared with you two?” Sunoo snapped, pointing an accusing finger toward you and Jay. 

You smiled awkwardly, offering a sheepish little wave behind Jake’s shoulder.

“She fainted!” Jake explained, hands flying up. “We were busy assisting her. Medical-grade care. You should be grateful your best friend fell into the right hands.”

Sunoo’s eyebrow arched so high. His gaze slowly dropped to your neck… and then narrowed. “Yeah, right,” he said dryly, arms crossing again. “That why she’s covered in poorly hidden hickeys?”

Jake blinked, he slowly reached out and bit his own finger, eyes wide as he turned to stare at you. “Babe,” he whispered. “You said you’d cover those.”

You flushed, dragging the collar of your shirt higher with a quick tug. “I did! Jay distracted me!”

Sunoo rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Dodgeball’s starting now—don’t actually faint this time.”

Your fingers gently slipped away from Jay’s, reaching out to Sunoo instead. You slid your arm through his as you began walking beside him, your shoulder brushing his. He let you lean into him without hesitation.

“I assume the three of you are okay now,” Sunoo said after a pause, voice lighter, the faintest smile tugging at his lips.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I’m still scared,” you admitted. “But… as long as I’m with them, I think I’ll be fine.”

Sunoo gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, well. You’ve got me at your back too.”

Jake popped up beside Sunoo, slinging an arm over his shoulder with a wide grin, pressing in close to you on the other side. Jay followed right behind, falling into step beside you with that calm, quiet presence that always made you feel anchored.

“So,” Jake said casually, stretching his arms above his head before locking them behind his neck. “What do you guys want to eat later? Because I’m seriously craving some Samyang Buldak noodles.”

Sunoo stared at him, blinking once. Then, flatly: “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jake blinked back, innocent. “What?”

“It’s thirty-four degrees,” Sunoo said, gesturing wildly to the sky like the sun itself was his witness. “And your dumbass is out here craving spicy death noodles? Are you okay? Do we need to check for brain damage?”

"Well, I love spicy!" Jake scoffed, throwing his hands up. 

Their voices quickly dissolved into muffled bickering again—Jake insisting it was about heat and thrill, Sunoo arguing that eating molten fire under the sun was a cry for help.

Jay exhaled a quiet laugh beside you, his fingers brushing against yours. You felt the heat of it—not from the sun, not from the air, but from them.

From all of this. And as you watched your best friend and your boyfriend argue, with Jay steady at your side and your pulse still echoing from the day before, you couldn’t help the smile curling at your lips.

Maybe Jake was right. 

Maybe a little spicy-ness was exactly what made life interesting.

[stillwatervoid]

Invincible’s special healing treatment | Mark Grayson x Male!Reader

Summary: Your healing powers—marketed as “Revitalizers”—made you a vital asset to both heroes and civilians. They erased fatigue, sealed wounds, boosted strength, and mended broken bodies like magic. Everyone loved them. Especially Mark Grayson.

That is, until he found out the secret ingredient behind your power was… your spit.

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Male!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Heavy Making Out, sort of Spit Kink? (subtle), there’s some grinding at the end but nothing explicit.

Tags: Reader Has Healing Powers, humor?, Fluff, mutual pining, and Mark being totally whipped.

w.c: 7k  |  a/n: English isn’t my first language, so there may be some mistakes here and there. This was a draft I started ages ago and finally decided to finish. It was supposed to be kinkier than it turned out—I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote the first draft back in January... I was probably just horny or something. I guess I couldn’t live up to the expectations of past me. I don’t even like it that much but I wanted to get rid of it already!!! (And yes, I still owe you pt. 2 of ‘Now nothing’s the same’, but please accept this as compensation.) Hope you enjoy it!

It starts when Mark’s nose scrunches in disgust as he stares at the small plastic cup in his hand, the truth of its contents finally dawning on him.

“Oh my god, stop being such a baby,” you groan, rolling your eyes as you monitor his vitals on the med-bay screen. “You’ve been drinking this for months and never complained before.”

“Yeah—when I didn’t know it had your spit in it!” he snaps, pushing the cup away like it personally offended him. His face twists into a grimace, torn between horror and betrayal. “This is disgusting. Someone should’ve told me! I have a right to know what I’m putting in my body!”

You cross your arms, irritation prickling under your skin. “It’s just a bit of saliva, Mark. And it’s mixed with, like, 80% water. You literally can’t taste it.”

He pouts, eyebrows knitting together stubbornly. “Still…”

“You know what?” you snap, cheeks flushing—partly from anger, partly from embarrassment. It isn’t your fault your healing powers work this way. “Fine. Don’t drink it. Enjoy waiting a month for your ribs to heal naturally. I’ll let Cecil know you’re benched until further notice.”

Before he can protest, you snatch the cup from his hand and down it yourself, locking eyes with him in a silent challenge. It tastes exactly like water. No big deal. Mark is being ridiculous. When you finish, you set the cup down with a shrug, feeling refreshed and perfectly fine.

“There,” you say curtly, grabbing your things along with the report of his vitals. “Now suffer alone.”

“Wait, wait—!” Mark jerks forward, wincing as his injuries protest the sudden movement. “You can’t just leave! I—I need to heal fast! I can’t be sidelined for a month!”

“Oooh,” you drawl, mocking. “Well, that was the last one left. Too bad, Invincible—oh, wait. Guess you’re not so invincible right now, huh? Stuck in a hospital bed, bruised up, with broken bones…”

You shrug, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you turn for the door again. 

Mark’s face falls. “Wait. You’re joking. There’s no more?” 

“Nope,” you say, popping the p, watching as his eyes widen in panic. “I came here to make more stock for Cecil. Felt bad for you, so I whipped up one on the spot—but hey, you didn’t even want it, Grayson.” 

“Wait, Y/N—” he scrambles, voice turning desperate. “C’mon, I’m sorry, okay? I need that Revitalizer! I need to keep training! Please? Please?” 

You pause at the door, glancing over your shoulder with a slow, unimpressed stare. 

“So now you want my spit—the one that was ‘disgusting’ literally ten seconds ago?” You arch a brow. “Yeah, no. Have fun with the crutches. Later, Grayson.” 

Mark’s desperation instantly shifts to irritation. “Hey! You can’t just leave! This is your job! So do your job, Y/N, or—or else!”

You stop again, a brow twitching. “Or else… what, exactly?” 

Mark fumbles, his bravado faltering. “Or else I… I dunno—I’ll tell Cecil to fire you or something?” 

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, sure. Because firing me, the guy who keeps all his damn heroes—including you—on the field, is such a brilliant idea.” 

Mark crosses his arms, smirking like he’s found a loophole. “Well, you’re not exactly keeping me on the field now, are you? And by the way, I’m his best guy. Cecil’s not gonna be happy you’re refusing to heal his best guy.”

You press your lips into a thin line, irritation bubbling in your chest as Mark’s cocky, self-assured smirk grates on your last nerve. He was already pushing it, eating up time you didn’t have, and now he was really pissing you off. 

But there was no more stock left. Making a new batch would take at least ten more minutes—minutes you couldn’t spare. What could you do?

Then a dark, petty idea slithers into your mind.

“Fine,” you mutter, shutting the door and stepping back into the room. “If you insist.” 

With swift strides, you move toward him, grabbing his face between your hands, fingers pressing into his cheeks just enough to squish them together. His smug expression falters, confusion flickering across his face—just as you lean in and kiss him. Full on the mouth. Tongue and all. 

Mark makes a startled noise in the back of his throat, his whole body jerking as your tongue slips past his parted lips, brushing against his demandingly. You don’t give him a chance to react, to pull away, to breathe—you just press in deeper, holding him still, making sure he gets a direct dose of your healing power. 

Because, yes, your saliva contains the ability to heal. That’s why you dilute it in water—so heroes can take it without things getting… weird. It works. It’s enough, and really, Cecil would never ask for more from you.

But this—this direct contact, exchanging spit with Mark, making sure he’s drinking it straight from your mouth instead of a diluted version—is the raw, unfiltered version of your power. The kind that knits bone and flesh back together in seconds.

And if Mark was that desperate for it, then here. Take it. 

His breath hitches, throat bobbing as he instinctively swallows the saliva between your entwined tongues. Under your fingers, you feel the swollen bruises on his face smooth out, the lingering pain vanishing in an instant. Only then do you finally break the kiss, a faint line of spit still connecting you both before it snaps. 

“There. Happy?” you pull away completely, scowling as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’re dismissed. Go home.” 

“W-what?” Mark’s mouth opens, then closes. A flush creeps up his neck. “I—you—what the…?” 

You look away, your own face heating up. “This is the last time I’m doing this. Don’t tell anyone—” your voice drops to a dangerous whisper “—or I’ll kill you.”

And with that, you turn on your heel and walk out, leaving a spluttering, red-faced Mark behind.

The second time it happens is while you’re both on the field.

Mark is in the air, fighting off the bad guys. You’re on the ground, checking on injured civilians and offering help. 

You’re not really paying attention to what Invincible or the other heroes are doing. Your focus is entirely on offering assistance, stabilizing wounds, and evacuating as many people as you can from the area. You don’t worry. You never worry. Not when it comes to them—and especially not when it comes to Mark Grayson.

The boy’s basically a force of nature wrapped in a spandex suit. Inexperienced, sure. A little reckless at times, yeah. But strong, strong. The kind of strength that makes his skin impenetrable, his body durable, and his raw power overwhelming.  The kind of strength that makes you believe, really believe, in corny hero names like invincible.

That’s why you’re so surprised when he suddenly comes crashing down from the sky, his body slamming into the asphalt like a meteor, carving a trail of shattered pavement before slamming through the side of a building. Concrete buckles. Steel bends. The whole structure groans under the impact.

One second passes. Then two. Three. Ten.

And he doesn’t get up.

Panic grips you, and you’re already sprinting before you realize it.

“Invincible?!” you call, voice cutting through the air as you swipe the dust from your face and enter through the whole he made. “Shit—Invincible?” 

The building creaks ominously around you, but you push forward until—

A low groan echoes from the rubble.

There, buried in a mess of rubble and twisted metal, lies Mark.

Your eyes narrow, instincts kicking in as you assess his condition with clinical precision while carefully making your way over. He’s in bad shape—bruises swelling across his face, blood smearing his skin, breaths ragged and uneven, and one of his arms is bent at an angle it definitely shouldn’t be.

The sight twists something sharp and awful in your chest, but you bury the feeling beneath your professional mask. You can’t afford to panic.

“Invincible?” you mutter, kneeling beside him and brushing debris off his chest and shoulders. No answer. Just a weak, pained sound—barely more than a groan. “Mark?” you try again, softer now, a hand slipping behind his head to lift it gently. He lets out another weak noise, eyes fluttering, but there’s no real awareness behind them.

No, you realize quickly, the Revitalizer won’t cut it. Not for this. Not fast enough. Mark’s breathing is shallow and quickening—too quick, too sharp. Collapsed lung, maybe. Add that to the concussion and the internal injuries you’re certain he’s hiding under the surface. The diluted solution of your power works on minor injuries and fractures, but this is beyond that.

You pause, weighing your options, the conflict mounting in your chest. Outside, the battle still rages—the heroes definitely need Mark’s help if the panic and screams are anything to go by.

Which means this calls for a direct transfer. Maximum potency. And you know exactly what that means.

Your jaw clenches.

“Goddammit, Grayson,” you whisper to his barely-conscious form, already making the decision. “People need you out there.”

The building groans and creaks ominously above you, dust raining from the ceiling. But you pay no mind, heart hammering.

One hand slides behind his neck, the other tilts his chin up. “Sorry for this,” you mutter, even though you doubt he can hear you. Your gaze flickers briefly to his lips, the sudden thought making your stomach churn. “Trust me, man, I don’t want this more than you do. So when you wake up… no hard feelings, okay?”

And then, without another second of hesitation, you’re sealing your mouth over his. Your tongue pushes past his lips, shoving the raw, undiluted potency of your power straight into him. It’s messy, desperate, laced with the taste of blood and grit. Mark jolts under you, a weak groan trapped between your mouths—but you don’t stop. You count the seconds in your head, focusing on the transfer, making sure he gets enough. Enough to mend everything.

Then you feel it—the sharp, deep breath he takes as his lung reinflates. His ribs shifting under your palm, bones snapping back into place. His arm realigning itself with a sickening crack.

Then, the soft gasp you swallow when his consciousness starts to return.

Mark makes a confused noise, his tongue brushing against yours, clumsy and startled. You freeze, heat rushing to your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and shock, and pull back immediately.

“Y/N...?” Mark’s voice is hoarse, and it makes your skin burn. “What... did you just—?”

You glance away, quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “Can you stand?”

Mark blinks, still dazed but healed, already flexing his newly-mended arm. “I… yeah. Yeah, I think—”

“Good,” you snap, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright. “Then move.”

But Mark just stands there, staring down at himself—then at you—then back at himself. And then, with a breathless laugh, he beams.

“Oh-ho-ho, I feel amazing!” he exclaims. “I feel great! Like, better than great!”

To prove it, he hovers a foot off the ground, spinning in a gleeful pirouette like a complete idiot. You fold your arms, glaring at him as he flexes his muscles and stretches, putting on a ridiculous display of his newfound energy.

Then the building groans again—a low, warning sound that cracks through the air.

Mark halts mid-spin, looking up at the ceiling. “That... doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you mutter, eyeing the unstable column just behind him. “We better go before—”

You don’t get to finish.

The ceiling gives out with a thunderous crack, and before your brain can catch up, Mark’s arms are around your waist, yanking you off the ground. Your eyes squeeze shut instinctively, arms wrapping tight around his neck as he blasts up through the collapsing hole he made when he crashed through earlier.

The world whips past you in a blur, and when you blink again, you’re outside. The building is falling behind you, collapsing in on itself, sending up a cloud of dust and debris that engulfs the area.

You both land a safe distance away, unscathed, while the building continues its dramatic descent.

“Aw, shit,” Mark mutters, pouting as he stares at the wreckage. “I did that?”

You hum, shooting him a side glance. “You’re lucky I evacuated that thing before it came down.”

Mark turns to look at you, his pout deepening like a sulky kid. But this time there’s a shift. He’s... uncomfortably close. Closer than you realized. You can feel his breath against your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours. That’s when you realize—his hands are still curled loosely around your waist. And your arms are still looped around his shoulders.

Both of you seem to notice at the same time.

Mark drops his arms like he’s been burned, quickly turning away to scratch the back of his neck and coughing into his hand. You shift your weight, eyes darting anywhere but him.

“Well—” his voice cracks, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks for, uh. The whole. You know. The thing with the—” he makes a vague gesture toward his mouth.

“Sure,” you reply, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. “Anytime.”

A mutual, full-body cringe.

The moment is mercifully shattered by Immortal calling out to Mark, urging him to get back in the fight.

Mark jolts like he’s been electrocuted. “Right! Yeah. Duty calls. Gotta—” he gestures weakly toward the fight, already floating backward. “So, uh. Thanks. Again. For the—”

“Go,” you interrupt, already turning toward a group of civilians still trapped in the area.

He throws you a final awkward half-wave, then rockets away—but not fast enough to hide the way his ears burn crimson. You watch him fly away, cheeks heating up, too.

The third time it happens, Mark isn’t bleeding, broken, or even remotely in danger.

No—he’s bored, crashing into your workspace at the GDA’s hospital wing, apparently done with his hero duties for the day—and, shockingly, with catching up with his college classes too. How he manages both, you have no clue. But here he is, picking up and poking around your things like a kid in a candy store.

“What does—”

“I swear to god,” you cut in sharply, patience already fraying, “if you ask one more time what anything in this lab does, I’ll gut you, Grayson.”

Mark pouts, carefully placing a large syringe back where he found it. “You’re no fun.”

“This isn’t a damn playground,” you mutter, returning your focus to the screen in front of you. “Now, unless you’ve got a severed limb or third-degree burns, get out.”

Mark flops into the nearest chair with a groan, legs sprawling like a petulant teenager. “Okay, fine. I’m here for, uh… a headache.”

“Oh no, how tragic,” you don’t even glance at him. “Take a pill.”

There’s silence.

An unnaturally long silence.

Long enough that you sigh and finally drag your gaze from the screen to find Mark staring at you with the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen.

“What,” you ask flatly.

Mark fidgets under your stare. “I just—” he sighs. “They take forever to kick in, okay?”

“So?” you arch a brow. “Suck it up, Invinci-boy. I’ve seen you take a hell of a lot more and never flinch once.”

“Yeah, but—” he glances away, wincing while pressing his fingers to his temple exaggeratedly. “This is a migraine. Like, brain-melting pain. Totally screwing with my focus.”

You narrow your eyes at him, suspicion flickering in your gaze. But as he keeps avoiding your eyes, fidgeting awkwardly, wincing every time he shifts—one hand pressed to his temple—you finally sigh and lean back in your chair.

“Fine,” you mutter.

Mark straightens up immediately, his eyes wide with surprise, cheeks flushing a faint pink. “Really?”

You blink at the sudden change in energy, head tilting. “Yeah…?” you say slowly, reaching into your desk drawer. Inside are several little Revitalizer cups—80% water, 20% your saliva. You grab one and set it in front of him with a soft thud. “Here. Thank me later. Cecil’s weirdly strict about the inventory—he hates wasting these on stupid things like a damn headache.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn back to your computer, resuming the work you’d been organizing before Mark decided to drop in unannounced.

Silence falls again—long, lingering, and just awkward enough to pull your attention back.

You turn to him, exhausted. “What now.”

Mark’s expression sours into a pout, his shoulders slumping as he stares down at the little cup, as if it’s the most disappointing thing he’s ever seen.

He sighs, closing his eyes before weakly reaching for the cup. “Nothing. It’s—nothing.”

Mark pops the lid off, staring at the clear liquid with exaggerated contemplation before drinking it all in one gulp. You watch silently, noting the way his throat moves as he swallows. Finally, Mark exhales, setting the empty cup on the desk.

Then he blinks, licking his lips with a curious hum. “Huh. Now that I’m really paying attention... it really does taste like nothing.”

“It tastes like water,” you point out distractedly, returning to your task.

“And water tastes like nothing,” Mark grumbles. He puts a hand to his chin, like he’s suddenly contemplating life’s biggest mysteries. “But it’s weird… did you know your spit has a taste?”

Your fingers freeze on the keyboard. Slowly, you turn your chair to face him fully. “Huh?”

“Yeah!” Mark springs up, suddenly animated, twirling the empty cup between his fingers. “It’s got this...I dunno, this flavor. Kinda—I can’t describe it.”

In all your years working with the GDA, through countless medical exams and power analyses, never—not once—has anyone mentioned your saliva having a flavor.

Your brows knit together in confusion. “You mean... like how everyone’s spit tastes?”

“No, no way,” Mark insists, shaking his head vigorously. “This is different. It’s like—” he waves his hands around, struggling to articulate. “Sort of... sweet? But not too much. More like—a feeling. But also a taste? And it lingers. You really can’t tell? It’s your spit after all.”

You tilt your head, gaze drifting in thought. “Not really.” Then your eyes narrow. “Can you taste your own spit? I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, fair,” he admits with a shrug, though his cheeks are now dusted with a light flush. He glances back at you, this time with a different kind of glint in his eye. “Hey—so. This thing—” he shakes the empty cup, “—hasn’t really worked yet.”

“It’s been, like, fifteen seconds—”

“The other method was instant.”

You glare. He looks away like he finds the ceiling lights particularly fascinating.

“The other method?” you repeat slowly, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to kiss your migraine goodbye or something?”

Mark chokes on air, spluttering. “No, no, I didn't say that! I just want, uh, I want—I just want to know what your spit tastes like!”

A long beat.

“For science!” he rushes to add, flustered beyond salvation. “I wouldn’t want to kiss you! I mean, ew, eugh, no, I—that’s—I don’t—”

You hum thoughtfully, tuning out the rest of his babbling. The scientific implications are intriguing. Flavor? In your saliva? That’s a whole new variable. Could you isolate whatever this is? If there’s something in the taste that links to your power’s effectiveness, maybe you can concentrate it, increase the strength of each Revitalizer beyond the current 20% dilution. If Mark’s being honest about all this… it could be groundbreaking.

“—and kissing dudes? Not my thing! Not that there’s anything wrong with that! I just—”

“Alright,” you cut in sharply, standing up from your side of the desk. “C’mere.”

Mark’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click. “Hmm?”

“Come here,” you repeat, already grabbing a notepad. “You’re going to describe this supposed ‘flavor’ in exact detail.”

Mark’s mouth hangs open, eyes wide in disbelief, and for the first time in the last five minutes—he’s finally silent.

“Wait—so you’re saying—does this mean we’re…?”

You roll your eyes. “What do you think, Grayson? Unless you’ve suddenly changed your mind.”

Mark scrambles to his feet so fast he almost knocks over his chair. “No! I mean—yeah, I want to,” he says, and you catch the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple as he adds, weaker, “for science.”

“For science,” you echo with a slow nod, watching him as he rounds the desk with nervous, rigid movements. “Then I need you to be very attentive, okay, Mark?”

“Sure,” he says quickly, voice lower now, eyes flicking over your face before landing—and staying—on your lips. “Super. Attentive. So... how exactly do we—”

You reach for his chin, thumb pressing lightly on his lower lip. “Shh.”

He goes still, sucking in a sharp breath.

Then you guide him in, sliding your hand to the back of his head as you draw him into a kiss. Mark comes willingly, lips already parted. The moment your mouths meet—warm, tentative, tongues brushing in a slick, electric glide—it sends a jolt through you both. A quiet groan rumbles from deep in his throat as his body melts into yours, tension giving way to something softer, needier. You take a single step back from the force of it, your breath catching, but neither of you pulls away.

You move slowly, letting your tongue sweep languidly against his, the taste of him mingling with your own as saliva slicks between your mouths. As the seconds pass, Mark’s movements grow more eager, his confidence rising with the heat between you. Then, without warning, he licks and sucks on your tongue in a way that makes your whole body shiver, goosebumps scattering across your skin.

“Mmh,” you groan softly into the kiss, one hand drifting to his chest—his firm, toned, distractingly solid chest—and you try to pull back just enough to catch your breath.

But Mark whines, his grip tightening, pulling you back in.

“Mmph?!” you mutter, muffled and breathless. 

His hands, which had been awkwardly hanging by his sides, finally move, fingers sliding up to your hips. His touch is hesitant at first, then turns urgent, twitching with anticipation. Your heart pounds in your chest, lungs burning from the lack of air, as his lips move hungrily against yours. His grip tightens, drawing you impossibly closer, until you feel every inch of him pressed against you—the steady beat of his heart syncing with your own.

Hell, you can even feel the bob of his throat as he drinks from you.

When you finally wrench your mouth free, a glistening thread of saliva connects you for one obscene second before it snaps. Mark chases after your lips like a man starved, but you press a cautious hand against his mouth.

“Grayson,” you pant, “that’s enough. I need—data.”

Mark blinks, dazed. “Huh?”

“The flavor,” you remind him, voice rougher than you’d intended. “The point was to, y’know, describe it.”

His pupils are blown wide, lips parted and panting. He looks confused for a second—then realization dawns across his face.

“Right! Right. It’s, uh—” his tongue darts out, licking his swollen lips. “Definitely... sweet. But like, honey-sweet? Only—more subtle. I think—” he clears his throat, voice rough, “I think I might need... further testing. For accuracy.”

“Accuracy,” you repeat flatly, raising a brow.

At this point, you seriously doubt he came here out of curiosity about the taste of your spit, or that he gave a damn about the ‘science’, or that he ever had a migraine to begin with. That realization makes your cheeks burn hot, your heart thudding harder.

Still, you pull him closer, noses brushing. “Well,” you murmur, “it can’t be helped, then. We do need to be extra accurate. So pay attention, yeah?”

His breath hitches, forehead resting against yours as his fingers flex on your hips. “Yeah…” he breathes. “I’ll be super attent—”

You cut him off with another kiss.

Science demands repeat trials, after all.

It keeps happening as the weeks go by, for reasons you can’t quite understand.

If Mark’s seriously injured, it’s become your go-to method—because, really, the world can’t afford to have its strongest hero benched for weeks just waiting to heal. If he’s just feeling sore or tired, it’s your method too—because otherwise, he’ll whine and mope and follow you around all day. And if he says he just needs an energy boost, claiming your powers make him feel like he could fly to another universe and back, then yeah, it’s your method again—because he won’t stop asking until you finally snap and kiss him just to shut him up.

But this time, it’s not Mark who’s critically injured.

It’s Rex.

Somehow, he survived a bullet to the head, severe blood loss, and an amputated hand. And even now, after all the surgeries and treatments, still confined to a hospital bed, he has the nerve to act cocky and cheerful.

“C’moooon,” Rex groans the second you step into his room to check his vitals. “You’re my only hope here, Y/N. I can’t take another day in this prison—I’ve read every magazine Eve brought me twice, and I’m dying of boredom.”

“No,” you reply, not even glancing up from his chart. “You know Cecil—”

“Cecil doesn’t let you waste your powers like this because it’s ‘pointless,’ because he’s got it all covered, blah blah blah,” Rex mocks, rolling his bloodshot eyes. “I just don’t get why we have a healer hero who’s not actually healing me, y’know?”

“You are healed,” you mutter, irritation seeping into your voice. “You just need to stay in bed, rest, and let it be.”

Rex glares. “That’s not being healed. That’s the boring process of healing!” Then he squints at you, brows scrunched. “Why are you even here if you’re not gonna do your job?”

You scoff and drop the clipboard onto the end of the bed with a thud, fully turning to glare at him. “For your information, the only reason you’re still alive is because my Revitalizers kept your dumbass brain together while they rebuilt your skull.”

“Oh, those little cups?” Rex shrugs, unimpressed. “Yeah, they’re fine, but we both know there’s a way faster method to get me out of here.”

You press your lips into a tight line, brow twitching as he gives you a pointed look, waggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.

“No.”

He sighs dramatically. “C’moooon, Y/N. It’s not like I want to do it either, but if—”

You don’t hear the door slide open as you continue glaring at him.

“—a kiss is all it takes to fix me up, then get over here, baby,” Rex puckers his lips, closes his eyes, and starts making exaggerated smooching noises. “One little magical mouth-to-mouth and we’re both outta here. C’mon, lemme taste some of that miracle spit, mmh?”

You open your mouth to go off on Rex, but another voice cuts in, sharp and disbelieving.

“What.”

You whip your head around, glare softening instantly as your eyes land on Mark. He’s standing at the doorway in his civilian clothes, wide-eyed and frozen.

“Oh, hey Mark!” you say quickly, snatching the clipboard from Rex’s bed as you move to leave. “Came to visit Rex? Good luck—he’s extra insufferable today.”

“Hey!” Rex shouts, trying to prop himself up, waving his good arm like a flag of protest. “Don’t bail yet! What about our special healing session?”

You scoff, eyes still fixed forward. “Didn’t promise anything, asshole. Bye now.”

Mark doesn’t move. He stares at you, then at Rex, then back at you again with a look of wide-eyed panic and something suspiciously like betrayal. Just as you reach for the door, he suddenly jumps forward, blocking your path.

“Wait—!” his voice cracks, just slightly. “Do you—do you do that a lot?”

You blink, thrown. “Do what?”

Mark pouts, hesitating for a second before glancing over at Rex, who’s watching the scene unfold with curious eyes. Mark scowls, jaw tense, then puts both hands on your shoulders and pulls you close, not taking his eyes off Rex.

“You know…” he mutters, voice low and pointed, “that.”

Your still confused, baffled expression only makes Mark deflate. He sighs, looking away shyly, his cheeks turning pink, though his face is still tinged with a touch of disappointment.

“You know…” he mumbles again, quieter this time. “The  ‘special treatment.’ I didn’t know it was… Rex, too. I thought I was the only one you kisse—mmph!?”

Mark is swiftly silenced when you slap a hand over his mouth with an echoing clap, panic rising in your chest as it hits you halfway through what he’s talking about. But by then, it’s too late. You know it’s too late.

Five seconds of pure silence drag on.

Then, behind you, Rex gasps dramatically. “No way…” he whispers, eyes widening with dawning comprehension. And then, louder, “No way!”

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh my god…”

“Dr. Y/N!” Rex clutches his chest in mock outrage, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Kissing your patients? That’s highly unprofessional! What would Cecil say if he knew? You know he hates wasting your power like that.”

“Oh my god,” you groan again, dragging your hands down your face, trying to hide from the embarrassment.

You whip around to glare at Mark, who shrinks under the intensity of your glare. But whatever you were about to say dies in your throat as Rex’s obnoxious cackling rings through the room, making your last nerve snap.

“So you are into special treatment, huh?” Rex laughs, eyes squeezed shut in amusement. “You were all high and mighty, denying it to me earlier. Well, look at you now!” Then he pauses, blinking in confusion, tilting his head. “Wait wait wait—so why does Invincible get the premium package, but I’m stuck with the watered-down version? That’s some bullshit favoritism! I don’t wanna be stuck here any longer! Hey! Do your job!”

Your jaw clenches. In one fluid motion, you throw the door open, grab Mark by the collar, and turn back to Rex with your most dangerous glare.

“Your treatment is called shutting the hell up.”

And with that, you drag Mark out of the room, slamming the door behind you with a resounding bang.

It’s silent at first—just the pounding of your heart and the flush burning across your cheeks. Embarrassment, dread, and the terrifying thought of Cecil ever finding out. You flinch just imagining the long, agonizing lecture he’d have locked and loaded if Rex opened his mouth. You have to make sure he doesn’t. And oh, you can think of several ways to ensure Rex’s silence—each more creatively painful than the last, all of them tempting—

“I’m sorry,” Mark says softly, cutting through your dark thoughts. “I didn’t—I didn’t realize there were... others.”

His voice cracks on the last word, and damn it all, when he looks up with those wounded puppy-dog eyes, your anger dissolves into mist.

You cup his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Mark. There are no ‘others.’” Your thumb brushes his cheekbone. “You seriously think I go around swapping spit with every hero who gets a paper cut?”

He winces. “No...”

“You think I’d kiss Rex of all people?”

His nose scrunches. “No.”

“Think that—” you pause, suddenly aware of the barely-there space between you. Of how your breaths mingle, how he’s leaning in without realizing it. Drawn to you like instinct. Like gravity. The next words come out softer than you mean them to. “That I’d do this with anyone but you?”

Mark’s eyes widen. His lips part—whether to answer or ask for clarification, you’ll never know, because you choose that moment to shut him up the only way that ever really works.

Closing the distance and kissing him.

Your lips crash together, deep and intense and hungry. His tongue meets yours halfway, practiced and eager, moving against your mouth in the way he’s learned you like. His arms wrap around you, hands slipping down your back, pulling you in closer, pressing you tight until there’s nothing left between you—not air, not space, not thought.

Your heart stutters and then races, excitement surging through your veins, raw and electric, leaving you lightheaded and weightless.

You hum into his mouth, slow and content, before finally pulling away—only to place one last, lingering peck to his lips.

Mark grins at you, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, that familiar giddiness and energy radiating from him—just like always when he feels the effect of your power. You can’t help but grin back, your chest warming at his boyish enthusiasm, before letting your forehead drop against his shoulder with a dramatic groan.

“Cecil’s gonna skin me alive if Rex blabs about this,” you mumble into the crook of Mark’s neck, feeling him shiver at your breath against his skin. “That little bastard’s definitely gonna hold this over me...”

Mark stays quiet for a long moment, his hands rubbing comforting circles on your back. His warmth and steady presence grounds you, but you can feel the slight tension in him—the guilt he’s trying to hide, stretching the silence longer than it should.

Then—

“What if...” he starts, hesitates, then tries again, voice low and unsure. “What if we just... dated?”

You blink, pulling back just enough to study his face. He’s red. Like, really red. Avoiding your gaze like it physically hurts him to meet your eyes. His throat bobs as he swallows, clearly nervous.

“I mean,” he rushes to explain, “Cecil can’t exactly lecture you about healing kisses if they’re just... regular boyfriend kisses, right?” He nods to himself, clearly pleased with this flawless logic. “Totally normal couple behavior. He can’t be mad if your power just happens to work that way…”

You stare at him for a few seconds, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. You notice the way his lips pout slightly, the hopeful look in his eyes, and how his fingers twitch lightly where they rest on your waist.

“Is this your subtle way of asking me out by pretending it’s not a big deal?” you ask, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Mark Grayson—oh, my hero, swooping in to do the favor of dating me so my boss doesn’t scold me for kissing one of his heroes an unnecessary number of times, just because he whines and cries like a total baby when I don’t?”

“Hey!” he protests, though there’s a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It was justified! I was—y’know, in severe pain and everything…”

“Oh yeah?” you tease, tilting your head. “Like that time you said you needed extra energy and a good luck kiss before your Mars mission? Was that also you being in pain?”

“Well—that—I did get lucky from that, okay?” he stammers, cheeks flaring red. “And we succeeded, didn’t we? Thanks to your power enhancing my power.”

You can’t help but laugh, and soon he’s joining in, the sound warm and bright as you stay wrapped in each other’s arms. His laughter does funny things to your heartbeat, sends warmth blooming across your cheeks.

Then he sobers, his expression turning uncharacteristically shy. “So... is that a yes? To the... dating thing? Or…”

You smile softens, fingers brushing along his cheekbone with tenderness. “Well,” you murmur, eyes flickering to his lips, “we did skip a couple of steps, didn’t we?”

He huffs a breath of laughter, relaxing a bit. “Yeah… I guess we did.”

“Then why are you even asking, Grayson?” you murmur, lips brushing just barely against his as you lean in. His breath catches. “Of course I’ll date you.”

The kiss that follows is sweeter than any before it—slow and certain, filled with promises rather than excuses. Mark sighs into it, his arms tightening around you as if to say mine, finally mine.

You smile into the kiss, kissing him back with just as much eagerness, heart full, lips willing. You weren’t going anywhere.

It happens late at night, when Mark’s bruised, battered, and still trembling after a draining fight with Angstrom. The man hurt his mother, his little brother, and left him stranded in some godforsaken alternate universe. Mark’s body is shaky, yet he’s profoundly grateful to be back, grateful that your healing powers pulled his family together in minutes as soon as you learned of it. Grateful that you’re here now, with him tonight, wrapped in his arms, sharing a bed, and sharing kisses, because there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

His kisses are desperate things—raw, needy, equal parts gratitude and desire, as if he’s trying to imprint the feel of you beneath his hands into his memory in case the universe decides to be cruel again.

“You know,” you murmur against his mouth when he pauses to breathe, “sometimes I think you like my powers more than me.”

Mark nips at your lower lip hard enough to draw a gasp, his hands sliding down your sides with possessive certainty.

“Course not,” he growls against your skin, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver through you. His knee slots between yours as he rolls you gently onto your back. “I like you because it’s you.” His teeth graze your jaw, sending a shudder down your spine. “Because you’re stubborn.” A soft kiss to your pulse point. “And brilliant,” he adds, as his hands mold to the curve of your waist, fingers slipping beneath your shirt like he’s desperate for more contact. “And you taste like warmth.”

You hum, rolling your tongue against his in a slow, deliberate movement, a tease that leaves his breath hitched and ragged. The slick slide of your mouths against each other fills the quiet room, punctuated by Mark’s low, guttural groan when you suck gently on his tongue. His hips buck instinctively, pinning you deeper into the mattress. His body is warm and heavy and grounding. His hands roam, bolder now—urgent with the need to feel you, have you, anchor himself to you after almost losing everything.

And you let him.

Because you need it too.

“It wouldn’t matter anyway,” you whisper, breath hitching as you rock your hips up, seeking the delicious friction of his body against yours. A soft moan escapes his lips in response. “Even if you didn’t… like me back or whatever. I’d still let you have me. Give you anything you needed.”

Mark’s head snaps up.

“But I do like you,” he says, like it physically hurts him to think you’d believe otherwise. His hand slides down, purposeful and shaking just slightly, squeezing the growing bulge in your jeans. He swallows your gasp in a hungry kiss, lips messy and desperate. “Shit—I love you. I love you so much.”

The second the words escape him, Mark freezes. His whole body stiffens, eyes going wide with panic, like he hadn’t meant to say it at all. Like the confession yanked itself out of him before he could stop it. He pulls back, breath catching, lips parted  like he’s about to take it back or apologize—

But you just laugh softly, even as your heart slams against your ribs.

“I love you too, Grayson,” you murmur, pulling him back down by his collar, lips brushing lightly against his. “So don’t go getting yourself trapped in some alternate wasteland again, okay? You scared the shit out of me.”

Mark’s entire body sags with relief, the tension melting from his shoulders as he nuzzles into your touch like a starved man.

“Okay,” he says with a breathless laugh. “I’ll try. I mean—I’d really rather not be stuck in a version of reality where I’m not with you. Or where you don’t exist. That’d suck.”

You huff, amused and affectionate. “Then be more careful next time.” And before he gets a chance to reply, you seal your lips over his.

Mark groans against your mouth, his forehead pressing to yours as you tug him flush against you.

“Yeah,” he breathes between kisses, his voice rough with longing, his hips rolling against yours in a way that makes your vision blur. “Yeah, I’ll—mmph—be real careful next—”

The rest of his promise dissolves into the hungry press of lips and the slick slide of tongues—but the way his fingers lace through yours, squeezing like he’s afraid to let go, says everything he can’t put into words.

Then, of course, Mark ruins the moment.

He pulls back with a breathless chuckle, eyes locking with yours—dark, dilated, cheeks flushed, forehead damp with sweat, and chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Hey so—” he rolls his hips deliberately against yours, drawing twin groans as denim strains between you. “The way you keep kissing me like that?” Another teasing grind. “Think I might have enough energy to last all night and morning.” His lips brush your earlobe. “What d’you say, baby?”

You stare at him, heat blooming across your cheeks like fire—but you can’t help the smirk that creeps in.

“Well,” you say, playing along easily, “I don’t exactly have anything better to do the next couple days… Might as well give the world’s strongest hero all the healing treatment he needs.”

Mark’s answering kiss is filthy—all tongue and teeth and saliva, like he’s trying to drink every last drop of your power straight from the source.

Then he pulls back just enough to pant, “God, I love your powers.”

You grin cheekily. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember who they belong to.”

He huffs a laugh—and before you can say anything else, he steals another kiss. There’s nothing patient about the way Mark moves—like he’s got something to prove, and you’re the only one he wants to prove it to.

No matter—you’re happy to let him.

A/N: Oof, I know... I didn’t really know where I was going with this either. I swear this was supposed to be worse—like, a lot kinkier, definitely 18+—but here we are. Thank you for reading!

[tedmustache]

bartender younger girlfriend, who gets brought in during Jack’s shift with a broken nose

Bar Fight

Pairing: Jack Abbott x Bartender!Girlfriend!Reader

Warnings/tags: protective!Jack, Hurt/Comfort, established relationship, age gap, physical assault (non-graphic), mentions of blood and bruising, medical setting, brief description of injury (broken nose)

Summary: A rough night leads Y/N to the ER, and Jack’s only priority is making sure she’s okay.

Requests are open | Masterlist

[...]

Jack Abbott wasn’t supposed to be on shift that long. He’d promised himself it would be a short one, just enough to help with the overflow, check on a couple trauma consults, and go home at a decent hour.

But like most promises in a trauma hospital, that one didn’t last.

He was just finishing up suturing a deep forearm laceration from a kitchen accident when Dr. Shen appeared in the doorway of the bay, his expression unreadable, which was never a good sign.

“Jack” Shen said. “You need to come to Bay 3. Now.”

Jack didn’t look up from his stitches right away. “Can it wait? I’m almost—”

“It’s Y/N” Shen said quietly. “She just walked in. Looks like a broken nose. Possibly more.”

Jack froze.

His hands were steady, but the world around him blurred for a second. He didn’t even register the nurse beside him offering to finish up the sutures. He set the needle driver down carefully, turned on his heel, and was gone without another word.

The walk through the ER felt like it took forever and no time at all. The second he rounded the corner into Bay 3, his chest tightened so hard it knocked the air from his lungs.

She was sitting on the edge of a gurney, shoulders tense, one hand pressing a bloodied towel to her face. She wore her usual bartending clothes, and her apron still hung half tied around her waist. Her lower lip was split, and blood streaked her cheek where it had run from her nose.

But she was upright. Conscious. Breathing.

“Jack” she breathed when she saw him.

He crossed the room in three steps, his hands already reaching for her but stopping short, hovering just in front of her face like he was afraid to hurt her.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and tight.

“A guy at the bar didn’t like being cut off. Got grabby. I shoved him, and he hit me.” Her voice was slightly nasal from the swelling. “Security dragged him out. I’m fine, really”

“You’re not fine” Jack said. His eyes scanned every inch of her face, then flicked to her arms, her torso, looking for more injuries. “He hit you? With what? His hand? An object?”

“Just his fist. Straight to the nose. Guess he got lucky.”

He inhaled sharply, jaw clenched. “Lucky” he echoed. “Right.”

He turned to the nurse. “She’s with me. I’ll handle this.”

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the nurse nodded and stepped back, shooting her a knowing look before slipping out behind the curtain.

Jack finally touched her, gently cupping her cheek, brushing a smear of dried blood away with his thumb. His fingers trembled ever so slightly.

“You should’ve called me.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your shift—”

“I don’t give a damn about my shift when you walk in bleeding” he said. “You could’ve passed out on the way here. What if you were concussed? What if he’d done worse?”

“I’m okay,” she said softly, leaning into his touch despite the ache.

“You’re bleeding,” he said again, like he didn’t believe it even now. “Come on. Let’s take a closer look.”

He helped her down gently and guided her to a nearby trauma room a little more private, quieter. Once inside, he sat her on the gurney and clicked on the overhead lamp, his eyes still dark with concern.

She let him work in silence as he palpated around her nose and cheekbones with skilled fingers.

“Definitely broken” he said after a moment. “Clean break, though. No eye socket involvement. You’re lucky.”

“I keep hearing that tonight” she muttered.

Jack didn’t smile. “I’m not joking.”

He grabbed supplies and paused when he turned back to her.

“Can I?” he asked, lifting the syringe gently.

She nodded. “Go for it. You’ve already seen me cry over Disney movies. I can’t embarrass myself any further.”

Jack let out a breath, a faint smile ghosting across his lips, and injected the anesthetic with careful precision. He watched her the whole time, not just the injection site, but her face, her breathing, any sign that she was flinching or hiding pain.

“Jack” she murmured when he stepped back. “You don’t have to baby me.”

“Yes, I do” he said simply. “Because you’re mine. And someone hurt you.”

The softness of his voice made her chest ache in a completely different way.

He splinted her nose with steady hands, but when he was done, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he sat on the gurney beside her, his hand sliding gently into hers.

“You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“I’ve had worse bar fights.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I know” she whispered. “But I handled it. I’m okay now.”

Jack looked at her like she had no idea what her own face looked like. “You’re bleeding. Bruised. Shaken up. That’s not okay in my book.”

She reached up with her free hand and tugged at his sleeve. “But you’re here now.”

He exhaled slowly and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers, mindful of the splint.

“I don’t care how many hours I’ve worked. If anything like this happens again, you call me first. Understood?”

She nodded. “Yes, Dr. Abbot.”

“That’s not fair” he said, finally letting a smile creep into his voice. “You’re not allowed to flirt while wearing a bandage I applied.”

She snorted, then winced. “Ow. Okay, laughing hurts. New rule: no jokes.”

Jack kissed the top of her head gently.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, his fingers laced with hers, the chaos of the ER muffled behind the curtain.

Eventually, Jack glanced down at her and asked, “Want to come home with me tonight?”

She looked up at him through tired eyes. “I thought you were on call.”

“My shift is almost over”

Y/N smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. “Only if you let me eat ice cream for dinner.”

“Done.”

“And let me control the TV.”

He hesitated. “Even if you choose reality dating shows?”

She looked up at him, smug. “Especially then.”

He groaned. “Fine. But only because you got punched in the face.”

She leaned into him, warm and safe. “You’re a very romantic trauma doctor, you know that?”

He kissed her temple again. “Only for you.”

[...]

Back at his apartment, Jack cleaned the last of the blood from her face, his touch impossibly soft while she put on the last episode of a reality show he didn’t know the name

"You’re gonna have a hell of a shiner tomorrow" he muttered, tracing the bruise.

Y/N shrugged. "Worth it. Dude’s banned for life."

Jack’s expression darkened. "He’s lucky that’s all that happened."

She studied him. The tension in his shoulders, the storm in his eyes, and sighed. "Jack."

"What?"

"You’re doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

"That thing. Where you look like you’re five seconds away from hunting someone down."

He didn’t deny it.

Y/N cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I’m fine. I Promise."

Jack exhaled sharply, leaning into her touch. "...I hate seeing you hurt."

"I know." She smiled. "But you fixed me up pretty good, Doc."

He huffed a laugh, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Damn right I did."

“...I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he said, brushing his thumb across her temple. “And I love you too.”

And when she curled into his side that night. Safe, warm, his. Jack swore to himself that no one would ever lay a hand on her again.

[norristeria]

Thy Trophy ! LN04

SUMMARY 𝄡 Lando Norris will happily be your trophy boyfriend, even at his own event.

PAIRING 𝄡 Lando Norris x A-List Actress! FemReader

TAGS 𝄡 Fluff, Light Angst ( blink and you'll miss it ).

WORDCOUNT 𝄡 5.5k.

NOTE 𝄡 This is my first fanfic, and I wanted to find a happy middle between traditional writing and smaus⏤it's kind of a mess and the end is rushed but whatever. Way too many mythological references in this... Let's say that it is because Y/N is going to star in Nolan's Odyssey, alright? <33

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

The printed words of the screenplay formed an unintelligible jumble that even your reading glasses could not unravel.

From the living room, Lando’s voice pierced the walls and lulled you into a sleep you refused to surrender to. Two hours ago, Christopher had sent you fifteen new pages of dialogue for you to learn; there was no way you were going to put this off until tomorrow—Mr. Nolan was not to be kept waiting, least of all for a project as Herculean as The Odyssey.

The book lay in your lap, long since abandoned on a page of the sixth book. Even Odysseus’ shipwreck on the shore of Scheria could not captivate you; it only drew you further into the depths of exhaustion.

A sigh pulled you away from the galleys and Phaeacian currents. Soon, the blurred but familiar silhouette of Lando filled your tired retina.

You did not need to see him to know he was tormented. His hunched shoulders and dejected gait spoke for him. Without a word, you placed the blue script on the couch and removed your glasses.

“What's wrong?” you asked softly.

Lando plopped down on the couch beside you, making Homer's work bounce off the floor. Already forgotten in the face of a loved one's urgency, neither of you thought to pick it up.

“The FIA wants to do this big event to launch the new cars.”

You frowned and let your fingers brush against his thigh to calm him down. When he was nervous, Lando fidgeted, as if his entire body was trying to express his anxieties when his words failed.

“Isn't that what happens every year?”

“It's different. They want to make a ceremony of it this year. At the O2, no less. With a red carpet and all that crap.”

If Lando shined under the cameras of the paddock and—even if he did not dare admit it—those of Drive To Survive, unforeseen events such as this one filled him with a sense of anxiety rooted in the comments that, for the past few months, malevolent people had been sowing on the Internet.

“Well, it's your lucky day. I happen to know a thing or two about ‘red carpets and all that crap.’ I could give you a few tips before the big night,” you giggled as you leaned over the coffee table.

Your cup of coffee, like the book, had been forgotten.

You grimaced when your lips tasted the cold brew.

“Or you could come with me.”

The cup clattered against the table and rattled the knick-knacks. A drop of coffee splashed on Homer. Another shipwreck for Odysseus, bitter and cold this time.

“This is… a big decision, Lando,” you finally spoke, taking care to articulate each syllable—as if its mere pronunciation could delay the inevitable.

If you want to live happily, you've got to live secretly. Those were the words you had been told repeatedly since your early days in the film industry. A motto that had ingrained itself in your skull and never left since then. Cameras belonged on the set, not in the intimate sphere, for they only consumed what was precious and left nothing but heartbreaking ashes.

You refused to let your love for Lando be reduced to a burnt film strip.

“I don't know.”

“Please, love.”

You picked up the Odyssey and slipped in an old receipt as a bookmark—a mere distraction, an attempt to waste time. Praying for the mundane to fight the unexpected, your fingers mechanically traced the curved waves of the cover, but even the sea could not drown the hurtful words of your former relationships.

“People will talk," you insisted. "They won’t care about the car or you, only about us, and I don't want that.”

Your ever-growing notoriety had destroyed many relationships, platonic or not. The jealousy and envy of men—such fragile, sensitive creatures—always took you away from Elysium fields and damned you to the infinite solitude of the Asphodel meadow.

You would rather plunge into the Styx than see Lando give in to the vices of the male ego.

A head came to rest on your chest and drew you out of your ruminations. In a loving reflex, your hand buried itself in Lando's brown curls. He sighed and nestled against your breasts, until you could not distinguish where he and you began.

“Let them talk and come with me. Please.”

For a few minutes, you said nothing, your gaze fixed on the cup of cold coffee and the Odyssey. What could you say, after all? None of your arguments would pierce Lando's will; the year you had spent at his side had taught you that. 

“When?” you asked, at last.

“February 18th.”

You tugged at a brown lock and watched it fall back into a curl before leaning over to kiss his forehead, just above a mole that—like all the others—you had come to love. You remained there for a while, lulled by Lando's familiar scent and the sensation of his warm skin against your lips.

A sigh rattled your chest and landed on your lover’s tanned flesh. He shivered at the sensation.

“All right, then.”

Lando straightened up and nearly head-butted you.

“Really?!”

“I can still change my mind.”

“Nope. Too late. You can’t take it back now.”

He caught your face between his hands and planted his lips against yours, murmuring a plethora of thank you that soon vanished in the fervour of his kisses. One of his hands slid from your thigh to the small of your back and pulled you closer to him.

As he abandoned your lips for your jaw, then your neck, Lando's head abruptly fell back against the couch when you pushed him away. Stunned, lips aglow, he watched you step over him and disappear into the hallway.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Already, his voice was but a mere afterthought as your thumb scrolled through your contact list.

“I need to call my stylist," you mumbled. "If I'm going to face your fangirls and internet, I might as well do it in an archive gown.”

The car’s tinted windows were already losing the battle against the camera flashes. The separation was purely psychological—a fleeting moment of respite before the leap of faith, for the eyes were already overwhelmed by the blinding light. The poor souls forced to endure it became knockoff Tiresiases, prophets doomed to foresee the same immutable future: the night would be intrusive.

Already, hands had torn through the finely woven tapestry of personal space. Famous or not, dozens of fingers had dressed you, styled you, and painted you into an icon—one the vultures would immortalize, and the admirers, worship. Even now, pairs of hands fluttered around you. They adjusted your gown, retouched your makeup, and tamed the few rebellious strands that had escaped hairspray and pins.

This routine, you had come to associate it with film sets and glitzy events such as this one. The familiar motions helped you slip into character—that of the perfect public persona. Flaws perished under the burning lights, leaving only idols sculpted by the frenzied cult of fame.

You had grown to resent the offerings and prayers people scattered on your path daily. Fame had been born from your love of cinema—an unintended consequence, not a pursuit. A tragic heroine of the modern age—one among many in the industry—you had long cursed your fate.

Then, one day, a devotee had placed you at the centre of a liturgy of love you had never foreseen. Suddenly, you were no longer a damned Sibyl, but an Aphrodite, revered by one and only man.

Around you, the hustle continued, yet the quick movements of your stylist and makeup artist unsettled you less than Lando’s gaze, which burned hotter than the camera flashes. You felt his eyes wash over your glittering skin, your diamond-draped neckline, and, at last, your lips, rouge passion.

You—as much a Tiresias as a Sibyl—read with ease the subtle signs on your lover’s face.

Love birthed habit and familiarity, and nothing was more familiar for you than the spark in Lando’s eyes—desire, burning and bold, a need only touch could soothe.

When he lunged toward you, you slapped a hand over his mouth and pushed him away.

“I spent two hours getting my makeup done, Norris. Keep your filthy paws to yourself.”

He whined.

“Come on. Just one kiss!”

“No.”

He groaned and settled for a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered against your skin, before letting your hand drop gently on his thigh.

In a vain attempt to escape his adoring gaze—and to let the flush on your cheeks fade—you dove into a flurry of caring gestures, becoming yourself a pair of doting hands. You straightened Lando’s collar, tucked back a few curls that had fallen across his forehead, and smoothed the wrinkles of his black jacket, tracing the firm shape of his shoulders with your fingertips.

“Such a handsome man.”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with joy. It was hard to believe that only a month ago, he would have fought tooth and nail to avoid this Dionysian chaos. Now, he wore his confidence like a second skin—one you almost envied.

You turned your head and let your eyes wander to the window, beyond the glass: towards the Others, their gazes, their judgments.

“Ready to face Hell?” you joked, but it fell flat as anxiety slowly nested in your chest.

What if they didn’t take it well? What if they accused you of stealing the spotlight? What if they hated you for dating their favourite driver?

Lando caught your hand. His lips found their way between the diamonds and gold of your bracelets, warming the curve of your wrist with a kiss.

“With you by my side? Always.”

Your fingers intertwined. The weight of his hand in yours was a quiet anchor. Lando tilted his head, silently asking you if you were ready. No, you wanted to scream—is anyone ever truly ready for such event?—but chose to keep silent and nodded instead.

“Remember. I’m here with you,” Lando said before knocking twice on the window.

The door opened and Chaos swallowed you whole.

Lights and voices coiled into a thick fog, numbing your senses, but you forced a smile onto your painted lips. Already, you could feel Lando drifting away, caught in the fervour of the event, in the euphoria of the moment—today, he was the one being celebrated. Who could resist the sweet intoxication of adoration?

“This way, Lando!”

“Lando! Can you sign my cap?”

“I love you!”

Photographers and frenzied fans screamed at the top of their lungs to be blessed with a second of his attention. His name echoed through the crowd, and you felt pure joy seeing him so loved by others. The world had not been kind to him lately; knowing the internet did not mirror reality eased your anxious but loving heart.

Throughout the first rows of fans, your pinkies remained entwined, a constant reminder of each other’s presence—a silent I won’t let go. But soon, you let go, allowing Lando to shine. Alone. This was his night, his moment, and you did not want to pull him from the spotlight with your mere presence. Already, you could feel the atmosphere shift, hear your name travel through the crowd.

“Lan– Oh my god, is that...?”

“Y/N!”

You waved to the young girls but stepped no closer, instead motioning toward Lando with a nod, as if to say Look at him. Not me.

Farther down the red carpet, your lover had not yet realized he now walked alone, but his body, already, was feeling your absence; his fingers clenched, seeking yours, but found only empty air.

You did not look away from Lando’s back. Unwittingly, he had become Orpheus, and you, a Eurydice. Don’t turn around, you wanted to scream. You did not want him to see the space between you both—a shield against strangers, harsher than the Gods in their judgment.

But, for Orpheus would always be Orpheus, Lando looked back when his hand closed on emptiness one too many times. He searched for you in the crowd and frowned when he saw you so far behind.

An event coordinator, headset on, clipboard in hand, tried to usher him to the photocall but Lando refused to budge, his green eyes locked on yours. He reached out a hand.

You shook your head, smiling softly.

It’s your moment, you mouthed.

I don’t care.

Beside him, the coordinator was growing impatient, muttering into his headset and tapping his foot, while photographers shouted incoherent words—a chaotic mix of both your names. You knew they were after the most expensive shot of the night—and what better than that of the industry’s newest couple?

Please, he mouthed again.

Your heart skipped a beat. Who could resist those eyes? You hesitantly stepped toward the photocall.

Toward him.

The flashes exploded.

“Y/N! Y/N, I love you!”

“On your right!”

“Gorgeous, darling! As always!”

“Smile for me!”

When you reached his side, Lando did not hesitate. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, as the crowd screamed and the cameras flashed.

Lando had yet to let go of your waist; you had become his constant solace in this labyrinth of glitter and pretense—his own thread of Ariadne, which he had woven stitch by stitch around his heart as a makeshift armor. You clung to him just as fiercely, already bored out of your mind.

“One last interview, and then we head inside,” he whispered before brushing a soft kiss on your cheek.

You stifled a sigh of relief. You had long since lost count of the interviews given, the rehashed questions, the trite answers Lando conjured with effortless charm. This red carpet felt more and more like a descent into the Underworld, inhabited by souls too curious to be sincere. The Asphodel Meadow stretched endlessly before you both; how much longer would you be condemned to wander through it?

As if sensing the flicker of frustration rising in you, Lando’s thumb stroked your hip gently as he guided you into yet another round of questions. He had become your Charon, steering you across the wreckage of media frenzy.

The journalist, another face in the crowd but far too cheerful for your liking, greeted you with a brightness that strained your already-fake smile.

“What an entrance! Everyone is talking about you both!”

What could one possibly reply to that? Luckily, Lando stepped in, offering a polished response that seemed to please the journalist, judging by her eager nodding.

You envied Odysseus and his wax; you were forced to endure the endless, hollow songs of sirens—human in form but no less vicious—ready to devour your words and regurgitate them in some twisted new order designed to wreck your image.

For the briefest second, you entertained the thought of diving into the Styx, never to return. You would rather drown than suffer through their tiresome, invasive questions.

The woman before you asked yet another question, but you tuned it out, choosing instead to scan the crowd of other attendees. You quickly spotted Oscar and Lily and offered a discreet wave, which they returned.

A pang of jealousy shot through you as the couple passed unbothered by journalists—no one bombarded them, no one tried to wring secrets from their mouths. They were allowed to breathe. They were allowed to simply exist.

You, however, felt suffocated by the scrutinizing stares multiplying around you like spores. These reporters didn’t care about Formula One—they were after a good story to tell. A good story to sell.

All the years you had spent mastering the art of answering dull questions seemed to vanish, buried beneath the indignation of seeing Lando’s victories silenced in favour of your love story.

A gentle squeeze at your waist pulled you away from your bitter thoughts.

"Sorry, what were we saying?" you asked, hoping your shining smile would suffice to make the reporter forget your lack of manners.

“I was just asking what you're wearing tonight,” she repeated.

“Oh!” Your hands instinctively smoothed down the satin of the dress. “An archive by John Galliano for Dior.”

“We didn’t expect anything less from you. As always, you look stunning! I love this pink, though I must admit, I’m a bit disappointed you’re not in orange!” the journalist chuckled.

You silently thanked your acting classes, and all the hours spent perfecting your fake laugh.

“No, I decided to go for something a bit more… discreet tonight. But I’m sure you’ll have other chances to see me in orange from now on.”

“Oh? Is that so? Should we expect Y/N L/N on the paddock this year?”

Lando’s gaze burned the side of your face, just as attentive—if not more than the journalist—to your reply.

It was a question you had not dared broach before. Cloaked in secrecy, some subjects had been left in dusty corners. Two months ago, the idea would not have even crossed your mind—for there was no way you would have shown up at a Grand Prix and sparked rumours.

But tonight, revealing your relationship had reshuffled everything. You no longer had to hide. You could love each other freely—for the better, or worse.

“Who knows?” you answered with a sly smile. “Maybe. I have to support the future world champion, after all.”

You did not need to look to know Lando was rolling his eyes, lips turning into a bashful smile. His hand squeezed your waist.

He adored when you loved him loudly.

“Do you think he has a chance to win this year?" the journalist asked. “He did finish just behind Max Verstappen last season.”

“I hope so. I believe in him, at least. And no matter the outcome, I’ll always be proud of him. He’s an amazing driver.”

You reached for his hand where it still clung to your waist, intertwining your fingers just as a PR staff asked the journalist to wrap it up.

“Have a wonderful evening, lovebirds! And Y/N, I hope to see you on the paddock soon.”

The champagne struggled to make its way down your throat. You had hoped to find some courage in the golden bubbles, but the cameras that tracked your every movement left a bitter taste on your tongue and spoiled the sparkling pleasure.

You set your glass down—too abruptly—spilling a few drops onto the pristine white tablecloth and catching others’ attention. Lando’s hand found your thigh, stroking and wrinkling the soft pink silk.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered back, brushing a drop of champagne off your wrist. “Just… the fucking cameras.”

He hummed and dabbed at the champagne with his napkin. You watched him do so, heart threatening to burst out of your chest. He did it without a second thought. The casualness of it all, the tender touch with which he wiped your skin, made you blush.

You felt a sudden urge to throw your arms around his neck, but the gleam of a camera lens snapped you back to reality.

On the stage, bathed in red light, Jack Whitehall was shouting something about the show going on or some other nonsense. You had not listened to his monologue, too busy being hyper-aware of your own body, your every breath and blink.

From the corner of your eye, you noticed the camera crew starting to move. One of them crouched directly in front of you and aimed his lens at your face.

In the blink of an eye, you straightened your shoulders, tucked a rebellious strand of hair behind your ear, and put on a careless, effortless smile. It was as if your small breakdown had never happened, already pushed back to let Y/N the movie star shine.

Still, a crack appeared in the perfect illusion when your eyes flickered to the massive screen overhead.

It was still broadcasting Jack’s face, but a chill crawled up your spine—a bad feeling taking root in your chest⏤as your gaze wandered to the cameraman at your feet.

“That is when you know your sport is ridiculously minted. When you book the O2 for an event to announce the colour of a load of cars that are all exactly the same as last season. The only new thing this year is Lando Norris’s girlfriend—who is probably the only person in this room who doesn’t need an introduction. Y/N L/N, everyone!”

Your eyes had not left the screen and, soon enough, you were staring back at your own face. Next to you, Lando clapped and whistled, as thrilled as the rest of the crowd.

His stupid antics eased your nerves. Lando had always known how to calm you—a magical skill that he abused sometimes, using it against you during arguments or to have his way.

How grateful you were for it tonight.

You smiled and waved at the audience, praying for them to move on, but Jack was not done.

“When she walked in, the whole room stood up so fast I thought a tax inspector had entered the building!”

The joke pulled a genuine laugh out of you—perhaps the first of the evening. Lando lit up at the sound. He grabbed your hand and kissed it with a dazzling smile.

When your eyes met—his, full of pride, yours, mortified—he winked. The cameraman—and the entire arena with him—did not miss it, sending everyone into a frenzy when it replayed on the screen. You even heard a few awes from the audience, which did not help your embarrassment one bit.

You only let yourself breathe again when the cameras finally drifted away, Jack having found a new soul to torment.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t know he’d do all that.”

Lando raised an eyebrow over his glass of champagne.

His large hand was still resting on your thigh.

“What are you apologizing for? I thought it was funny.”

“They should be talking about you.”

He scoffed.

“The less they do, the better. Gives the haters less ideas. And to be honest, I’ve got other things on my mind tonight than lame jokes.”

“Like what?”

His hand slid higher as he leaned in.

“You in that dress,” he whispered against your ear.

“Behave,” you muttered through your teeth, trying to ignore the heat that bloomed low in your belly. “People are watching.”

“Even better.”

He kissed you.

Lando’s lips tasted like champagne and euphoria, leaving you so dazed you did not see the camera focused on you from afar.

You had been naïve to think Jack Whitehall would settle for one joke. Clearly, you had underestimated the comedian, who—between flirty exchanges with Charles Leclerc—had managed to sneak over to the McLaren’s table and settle in a chair beside Lando.

His sudden proximity could only mean trouble. You kept a wary eye on the cameras—once again pointed in your direction, though focused on Lando this time (much to your delight)—and silently prayed to fade in the background

To your dismay, the mischievous glances Jack kept throwing your way made it perfectly clear that vanishing was not an option. The British host had not forgotten about you, and he intended to savor your discomfort.

A technician—at least he looked the part with his headset and walkie-talkie in hand—gave Jack a thumb up, prompting him to straighten up. A red light blinked atop the camera. “We’re live!” an imaginary director screamed in your mind. Old habits die hard.

For a second, you let your thoughts wander to your screenplay and its fifteen new pages, laying abandoned in your suitcase back at the hotel. How you longed for Odysseus.

You glanced at the giant screen and relaxed upon realizing you were out of frame.

After an entire evening trapped under the spotlight, it was now Lando’s turn to shine.

And shine he did. Sun-kissed, smiling, utterly at ease—he was radiant. A tight knot, full of love, formed in your throat. There was nothing more beautiful than seeing someone you hold dear thrive.

A fierce surge of pride swelled in your chest. This man—as talented as beautiful—was yours.

“Guys, we’ve got so many amazing celebrity guests in the house. We’ve got singers here tonight, we’ve got actors.” His head popped up over Lando’s shoulder. “Hello there, Y/N.”

The camera panned to you, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night, you smiled and waved at the roaring crowd, pushing aside the déjà-vu rising inside to lean toward Jack. Your chin brushed against Lando’s suit-clad shoulder. The scent of his cologne curled around you in a warm embrace.  

Play the part.

A charming smile spread across your crimson lips. “Good evening, Jack,” you purred back.

That single line made the comedian stammer and giggled. He fanned himself with his cue cards and rattled off a clumsy joke.

You bit back a grin.

Men really were the simplest creatures.

Beside you, Lando straightened up and shifted in his seat—just enough to place himself in between the two of you and break your eye contact.

Oh yes, so simple.

“Those eyes. Well, you sure do know how to make a grown man blush,” Jack said with mock sternness, retreating slightly. Lando could be intimidating when he wanted to be. “But enough with you, we’ll talk more later.”

You were not sure if that was a promise or a threat.

“For now,” he went on, “there is only one man I’m looking to talk to tonight and it’s this man here. Mister Lando Norris!

You did not hesitate and joined the crowd’s euphoria, clapping so hard your palms began to sting.

“Lando, last season you came so close. Is this going to be your year?”

“It wasn’t that close to be honest. Max had it. But I hope so. I’m working hard. The team is working hard.”

Behind him, you nodded instinctively. You had witnessed first-hand the sleepless nights, the hours spent studying data, memorizing circuits, rotting away in the simulator. No one deserved the championship more than Lando.

“Well, I hope you’ll bring it home,” Jack said. “And hey, if you don’t, you can always play with girlfriend’s trophy collection. She’s got enough to lend you a few!”

Without warning, Jack turned to her.

“Y/N, by now you must be used to this sort of event. Is the F1 75 as glamourous as the BAFTAs or Golden Globes? I know there’s nothing for you to win here, which must feel a bit strange, but I swear you’ll love it—we’ve even got tire-shaped hors d’oeuvres.” He turned to the camera. “Suck it, Hollywood!”

“So far, it seems much less competitive,” you quipped. “I’m a little disappointed, to be honest.”

“You’re up for Best Actress, right?”

You nodded.

“Nervous?”

“Always.”

“Don’t be coy. Seriously?!” Jack chuckled. “Everyone knows you’re going to win! You’re basically the Max Verstappen of the movie industry!”

The giant screen cut to the Dutch champion, looking thoroughly unimpressed. You sighed inwardly.

I feel you, Max.

“Oh. Looks like someone behind the camera is telling me to go back to Lando. Bo-ring,” he rolled his eyes, “but I must oblige or else the FIA won’t pay me.”

Thus, Jack left you alone and turned back to your boyfriend. Hidden from the camera’s view, you hooked your little finger around his and squeezed.

“Lando, I wanna know what happens with an F1 driver in the off-season. What you get up to… Is it hard with all those Drive to Survive cameras in your face all the time to properly chill out? Were you able to Netflix and chill?”

You snorted as a boom mic dangled awkwardly above Lando’s head. Jack swatted it away, but your own memories remained, that of endless shooting days and drowsing sound engineers.

“I did. I’ll tell you what.”

His reply barely registered over the crowd’s laughter, but you heard it loud and clear and smacked his arm, cursing Lando’s cheeky side and his constant need to toss fuel on the fire.

“I spent some time with my family, my friends.” He exhaled. “Hum. Yeah, a bit of Netflix and chill. I did it all.”

The crowd roared. Jack burst out laughing. You buried your face in your hands.

“Best of luck this season. Give it up for Lando Norris!”

As the cameras moved on, you leaned toward Lando, your cheeks still flushed.

“Laying it on thick, aren’t you?”

He just shrugged in response.

“I want people to know you’re mine.”

A flurry of notifications pulled you from a well-deserved sleep. Beside you, Lando was still out cold, completely unbothered by the constant alarms. Last night had done a number on him—be it the never-ending ceremony or your rather eventful return to the hotel.

A dazed smile crept onto your face as the memories from last night resurfaced.

Though you did not want to, you dragged yourself out of bed and reached for your phone, which was still buzzing. It had landed on the floor in the heap of last-night crumpled clothes.

The whole pile reeked of champagne—a telltale sign of a night well spent.

Stifling a yawn into the crook of your elbow, you wasted no time to unlock your phone, the flood of messages immediately drawing you in—all from your agent. As you skimmed through them, your brows shot higher with each one until, finally, you tapped on the last: a link to a gossip page.

“Fuck.”

Ignoring the dull ache in your legs and lower belly, you rushed over to Lando and shook his shoulder.

“Babe, wake up.”

No reaction.

“Come on, get up,” you tried again.

When he still did not budge, you resorted to drastic measures and shoved him clean off the bed. He landed on the floor with a thud, muffled by the thick carpet of the suite.

“What the–?” he muttered, cracking one eye open as he straightened up and peered over his shoulder.

You kneeled beside him and shoved the phone in his face, screen brightness cranked to the max. He blinked once. Twice. His eyelids fluttered against the assault of light before he smacked his lips to chase away the dryness on his tongue.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, voice still hoarse with sleep.

“Read.”

The liveries' new engines for the upcoming Formula 1 season were not the only things to heat up the O2 arena last night. Hollywood royalty Y/N L/N made her grand⏤and completely unexpected⏤entrance on the red carpet, instantly overtaking the event.

It is fair to say that the actress, whose face has become a permanent fixture not only in theaters but also on the cover of Vogue or at the Met Gala, was the talk of the evening⏤as she always is. Draped in a pink Dior archive gown, the Golden Globe-winning actress turned heads the second she stepped in the arena... as Lando Norris’s plus-one!

According to inside sources⏤who were quick to spill the tea⏤the driver and A-List actress have been dating for over a year, but this marks their first official public outing as a couple. Talk about a hard-launch!

McLaren's golden boy⏤who came second in last season's world championship⏤quickly faded into the background as L/N stole the spotlight. And he didn’t seem to mind one bit, instead beaming with pride and fully embracing his new role as a trophy boyfriend!

One thing is sure, while he may be chasing a world-champion title on the track⏤as he reaffirmed last night to Whitehall⏤off it, it seems that Lando Norris has already won, for there is no trophy in this world better than Y/N L/N.

Sort by Most Relevant ↓

Anonymous 2 hours ago

Y/N in vintage Dior with Lando trailing behind her like a good purse holder?? Iconic.

Anonymous 5 hours ago

Wait… they’ve been dating for A YEAR?? How did we miss this?? I need a timeline, a series, a podcast—SOMETHING.

Anonymous 1 hour ago

They make so much sense together. I'm already obsessed.

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Lando handed you your phone back and flopped onto the bed, curls matted into the pillow, one arm behind his head. You remained standing, determined not to be swayed by his distractingly sculpted biceps, now on full display.

A smug smile lit up his tired face. You had to fight against the overwhelming urge to slap it off.

“I guess I am your trophy boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes as he burst out laughing and tossed a pillow square at his head. He caught it without blinking.

Those fucking reflexes.

“Shut up.”

He reached for you, arms wide open and eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Come here, sugar mommy.”

You flipped him off and walked out of the room without a second glance for him.

“Does this mean I can come to the Oscars with you?” he called after you.

[aizawas-upper-left-wisdom-tooth]

I know that it's not really the prompt exactly, but this would be wild for the Journey to the Center of the Earth universe!

It's been forever since I've watched the movie, but basically the premise is that the center of the earth is kind of hollow and dinosaurs are very much alive down there!

Imagine your minding your own business when a cult kidnaps you and knocks you out after putting you in the middle of this summoning circle looking thing! When you wake up, you're in the middle of this wild jungle looking place with no plants you recognize and the sky is just gone!

Then you run into a fucking dinosaur and your just so incredibly confused??!! You think maybe you've time traveled, but that doesn't explain the lack of sky! Your somehow surviving months down there, going practically feral in the process while convinced the cult somehow sent you to another world, only to one day find a EXTREMELY well hidden camera!

After a while longer you're finally able to find the cult and fight your way out of the exit. The entire time you're dragging the lead cultist with you just trying to find a ritual room so they can send you back home! Your main theory is that they sent a random person first so that they knew it was possible/ safe for them, but that still doesn't explain the cameras??

Once you get to the top exit the first thing you see upon exiting the cave is one of the cultists Prius parked near the entrance and a highway not too far off in the distance with tons of normal people on it going about their days......

Shit would be wild

We need more isekai premises with plot twists that it's not isekai, I think.

Like some dude appears to have woken up in a mysterious other world, except it actually is some weird cosplay cult that has kidnapped him. Or a wildly intense reality television prank show. Or alien abduction. For one shining moment he thinks that something truly magical has happened to him, only for it all to come crashing down and now he's gotta survive an extremely intense Midsommar LARP instead.

Not because it's more "realistic", that's still an absurd premise, I just think that isekai has become such a standard expectation itself that the whole song and dance of someone refusing to believe it should now, sometimes, be replaced by the reverse. Guy who is convinced that the walrus at his door must be a fairy in disguise, but it is actually a walrus.

[flux1563]

Sacrifice for Husband Ft Mina

Tags : pet play, degrading, creampie, squirting, creampie

Words :16k

Mina stood in her kitchen, the smell of burnt toast lingering in the air. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes late. Again. Her stomach tightened into a knot of anxiety as she thought about the long day ahead of her. Her husband, Alex, had been working late every night for the past two weeks. His business was failing, and she didn't know how to help.

The coffee machine hissed its final protest as she poured a cup, the dark liquid steaming in the stark light of the kitchen. The house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the usual morning chatter of their daughters getting ready for school. She took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the mug seep into her cold hands. She had to come up with a solution. Their family was depending on it.

Alex's office was a mess of unpaid bills and half-empty coffee cups. She picked her way through the clutter, her eyes scanning the numbers that blurred together in a sea of red ink. The business they had built together, their dream, was slowly drowning, and she felt powerless. The phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was Alex, his voice tight with stress. He needed her to come in today, to help him figure out what to do.

Her mind raced as she drove to work, passing the familiar landmarks of their small town. The office was in a dingy building, the paint peeling in the harsh sunlight. Mina was the receptionist for a successful construction company, a job she had held for years. Her boss, Mr. y/n, was a fair man, but today she had to ask for something she knew he might not be able to give: a loan to save their family's future. She took a deep breath and stepped into the building, her heart pounding in her chest.

The lobby was cool and quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the street outside. The receptionist looked up and offered a tentative smile. Mina returned it, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She couldn't put this off any longer. She had to see Mr. y/n. She took the stairs, her heels clicking on the linoleum, each step echoing in the stairwell. His office was at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. She could hear his deep voice, discussing plans with a contractor.

Mina took a moment to compose herself, smoothing down her blouse and checking her reflection in the glass pane of the office door. She took a deep breath, knocked, and stepped inside. Mr. y/n looked up, his eyes widening slightly when he saw her. He was a black man, tall, well-built man with a shaved head and a no-nonsense attitude. His expression softened when he saw the worry etched on her face.

"Mina, what can I do for you?" he asked, his voice a gentle rumble.

"Mr. y/n, I need to speak with you. It's about Alex's business," she said, her voice shaking slightly.

He gestured for her to take a seat across from his cluttered desk, his gaze concerned. "What's going on?"

Mina took a moment to gather her thoughts. "It's failing, Mr. y/n. Alex can't keep up with the bills. I've tried to help, but we're at the end of our rope. I was wondering... if there was any way you could lend us some money. Just until we get back on our feet." She met his eyes, her own pleading.

"I can give you money with two requirements," Y/n said, his voice firm yet understanding.

Mina felt a flicker of hope. "Anything," she replied desperately, leaning forward.

Y/n leaned back in his chair, his eyes sweeping over her body. "I want you to create an OnlyFans account," he said, his voice a low growl. "And you'll be my personal slut."

Mina's heart stopped. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What?" she sputtered, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment.

Y/n's expression remained calm, his eyes unwavering. "Three days, Mina. Take the time to think about it," he repeated, his voice firm and unyielding. "I'm offering you a way to help your family, but it's a serious commitment."

Mina left his office in a daze, the door clicking shut behind her like a prison gate. She walked back through the lobby, her legs feeling like jelly. The receptionist's smile seemed to mock her as she stepped out into the unforgiving sun. The drive home was a blur, her mind racing with the implications of Y/n's proposal. The quiet hum of the engine was the only sound, punctuated by the occasional honk from an impatient driver.

When she arrived at the house, she found Alex in the living room, surrounded by bills and paperwork. The sight of him, shoulders slumped in defeat, made her want to scream. She couldn't tell him what Y/n had said. Not yet. Instead, she forced a smile and told him she was there to help. They spent the evening crunching numbers, trying to find a way out of their financial nightmare. The TV droned on in the background, a mindless distraction that did little to ease the tension in the room.

As they finally went to bed, Mina lay awake, Y/n's words echoing in her mind. The thought of creating an OnlyFans account, exposing herself to the world, was mortifying. But the alternative was unthinkable. Their house, their daughters' futures, all of it could be lost. Her heart raced as she thought of the second part of the deal. Being his personal slut. What did that even mean? Would she have to sleep with other men? Would it be just Y/n? The very idea of it made her stomach churn.

The next few days were a blur of work and worry. She couldn't focus, her thoughts consumed by the decision she had to make. Each time she saw Y/n's number flash on her phone, her pulse quickened. The silence was deafening, the weight of his proposal hanging heavy between them. She knew she had to make a choice, but she didn't know if she had the strength to go through with it. She felt like she was drowning, and the only lifeline was wrapped in a noose.

On the third day, she sat in her car outside the office, the engine idling. She had made up her mind. With trembling hands, she picked up her phone and called Y/n. "I'll do it," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Y/n's response was immediate. "Good girl," he said, the words sending a shiver down her spine. "Come to my office at six. We'll discuss the terms of our arrangement."

Mina nodded, though she knew he couldn't see her. She had agreed to become his personal slut, to do whatever he wanted, whenever he demanded it. The thought was terrifying, but the fear of losing everything pushed her forward. She took a deep breath and ended the call.

When she arrived at his office, the sun had set, leaving the room bathed in the glow of his desk lamp. The shadows danced on the walls as he stood up, his expression unreadable. "You've made the right choice," he said, his voice a dark promise. He handed her a contract, the pages thick with legal jargon. "Sign here, and it's all yours."

Mina took the pen with a shaking hand, her eyes scanning the document. It was all there in black and white: the loan amount, the terms, and her role as his sex slave. She felt sick, but she signed, sealing her fate. Y/n's smile was cold and calculating. "Welcome to your new life," he said, his eyes glinting with something that could have been excitement or malice.

The following days were a whirlwind of setting up the account, taking explicit photos, and recording videos. She felt like a whore, selling herself to strangers for money. But every time she saw Alex's hopeful face, she pushed down the nausea and continued. The money started to roll in, and she transferred it to Alex's account, watching the numbers rise with a sense of relief and self-loathing.

One evening, her phone buzzed with a message from Y/n. "Come to my house, slut. And make sure you don't wear a bra or panties." She read it over a dinner she couldn't eat, her heart racing. Alex looked up from his plate, noticing her sudden tension. "Everything okay?" he asked, oblivious to the deal she had made.

Mina took a deep breath, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just work stuff. I have to go to the office for a bit." She didn't know how much longer she could keep her secret from him. She showered, her hands trembling as she washed herself, feeling the weight of her decision like a noose tightening around her neck. She slipped into a short, tight dress, her bare skin feeling vulnerable and exposed.

The drive to Y/n's house was agonizing. Each minute stretched into an eternity, the anticipation of what was to come mixing with the fear of being caught. The luxurious mansion loomed before her, a symbol of the power dynamics that had shifted so dramatically in their lives. She stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her bare skin. The door opened before she could knock, and he was there, his eyes raking over her body with a hunger she had never seen from him before.

As she entered, she noticed the dimly lit hallway and the faint smell of expensive cologne. She knew that tonight would be the first time she had to give in to his desires, and the thought filled her with dread. He led her into a plush living room, the sound of her heels echoing off the marble floors. He offered her a drink, which she took gratefully, downing it in one gulp, hoping the alcohol would ease her nerves.

The "red room" was exactly as he had described it: a den of iniquity, filled with an array of sex toys that seemed to glisten in the soft, crimson light. There were cameras positioned at every angle, ensuring that no part of their encounter would be missed. Her heart pounded in her chest as he closed the door with a soft click that sounded like a prison locking shut.

"Strip," he ordered, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. She obeyed, peeling off her dress and letting it fall to the floor, leaving her naked and trembling. He approached her, his eyes never leaving hers, and she felt the heat of his gaze on her skin as if it were a physical touch. He was tall, muscular, and powerful, his confidence palpable.

Mina lay down on the bed, the plush comforter cool against her feverish skin. Y/n pulled out a length of rope from a drawer, the sound of it slithering through his hands sending a jolt of fear through her body. He was surprisingly gentle as he tied her wrist to each ankle, her legs spread eagle, leaving her utterly vulnerable. The position was both humiliating and exhilarating, her body on full display for his perusal.

He stepped back to admire his handiwork, licking his lips. "Beautiful," he murmured, his eyes glinting with desire. "But not quite what I had in mind." He reached for another rope, looping it around her neck, and then down to her bound wrists, creating a tension that made her arch her back. She could feel the rope tighten slightly, the threat of choking if she moved the wrong way. "Now, let's get started."

Y/n approached the bedside table and picked up a sleek, black vibrator. He turned it on, the buzzing sound filling the room like a promise of pleasure and pain. Mina's eyes widened, her heart racing as she watched him approach with the toy. He knelt between her legs and spread her thighs even further apart, his breath hot on her skin as he leaned in.

With a practiced touch, he inserted the vibrator into her pussy, the coolness of the plastic giving way to a deep, pulsing warmth that sent shockwaves through her body. She gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as he adjusted the speed, watching her reactions intently. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, his breath hot and his words a dark contrast to the coldness of the transaction.

The vibrations grew stronger, each pulse making her toes curl and her body tense. She felt her muscles tighten around the invading object, her body betraying her by reacting with pleasure despite her mind's protest. It was a strange sensation, being both terrified and turned on, her thoughts racing as the room spun around her. He leaned over her, his handsome face a mask of concentration as he worked the vibrator with precision, his thumb circling her clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of an unwanted orgasm.

And then it hit her, a wave so powerful she couldn't hold back the scream that tore from her throat. "AHHHHHHHHHHH," she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls as her body convulsed with pleasure. The ropes bit into her wrists, the pain adding an unexpected intensity to the moment. Y/n watched her with a smug smile, his eyes never leaving hers as he pushed the vibrator deeper, making her scream louder. She bucked and writhed against her restraints, feeling the rope tighten around her neck as she reached peak after peak, her orgasms rolling over her like a stormy sea.

He didn't stop, not even when she begged him, her voice hoarse from screaming. He was relentless, driving her body to its limits, pushing her until she didn't think she could take any more. But she did, each cry of pleasure a silent admission of her defeat. She was his, utterly and completely, and she knew it. The thought should have filled her with anger, but instead it just made her want to come again, to feel that rush of powerlessness and pleasure.

As the last tremor faded, he removed the vibrator, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl," he murmured, stroking her cheek with a tenderness that was almost affectionate. "Now, let's see if you can handle the real thing." He stood and began to undress, revealing his massive cock that was already hard and ready for her. She felt a mix of fear and excitement, knowing she had no choice but to submit to him fully.

Mina couldn't help but ask, "How long and big is that?" Y/n smirked, his chocolate eyes holding hers as he replied, "12-inch length, 4-inch girth. But don't worry, I'll take it slow with you." His words didn't comfort her; instead, they sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her. She had never seen anything so large, and the thought of it inside her made her feel both terrified and strangely eager to prove herself.

He climbed onto the bed, his weight making her gasp. He positioned himself between her legs, and she felt the head of his cock nudge against her wet pussy. He was gentle at first, pushing in just a little, allowing her to adjust to the size. But with every inch, she felt herself stretching, the pain bordering on unbearable yet mixed with a strange thrill she had never felt before. Her breaths grew ragged, her eyes watering as he inched further inside her.

Finally, he was all the way in, and she lay there, panting and trembling, feeling utterly filled and claimed. He began to move, his strokes long and slow, each one sending a bolt of pleasure and pain through her. She had never felt so alive, so used, so completely under someone's control.

"Ahh, so big," she gasped, her eyes watering with every thrust. "My pussy is gonna tear apart." Her voice was a mix of pain and pleasure, a sound she had never heard herself make before. His eyes held hers, the connection between them almost intimate. He knew exactly how to push her buttons, how to make her beg for more.

"Do u like it how a BBC destroy ur pussy?" His voice was a gruff whisper, the question a taunt that sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't know if she liked it or not, but she knew she craved it. The way he filled her so completely, the way he made her feel so small and vulnerable, it was a heady cocktail she hadn't anticipated. She nodded, unable to form coherent words, her body already preparing for another orgasm.

"Good," he said, his strokes becoming more intense. "Now tell me, slut. What do you feel?" Mina took a deep breath, the pressure building inside her, his cock stretching her to her limits. "I...I feel...full," she managed to gasp out, the word barely audible over the sound of his hips slapping against her ass. "I feel...like I'm yours."

His smile grew wider at her admission, his grip on her hips tightening. "That's what I want to hear," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue claiming her mouth as thoroughly as his cock claimed her pussy. She moaned into the kiss, the taste of him mixing with the metallic tang of fear and arousal on her tongue.

"I can feel your walls tightening around me," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to cum again for me, aren't you?" She nodded, her eyes glazed with need. "Say it," he demanded, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Say it, Mina."

"Yes," she whimpered, the word barely leaving her lips before she was spiraling into another orgasm. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, a crescendo of sensation that consumed her completely.

Y/n's grip tightened, his strokes becoming more frenzied as he approached his own climax. "Cum together, slut," he grunted, his eyes boring into hers. The command was a spark that ignited the final explosion of pleasure within her, her body convulsing as she screamed out her release. He followed shortly after, his hot seed filling her up, marking her as his.

"Ah, your womb is so tight," Y/n murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and amazement as he pulled out, his cock still pulsing with the aftermath of his orgasm. Mina felt a strange sense of pride, despite the circumstances. She had never felt so desired, so used, so completely owned.

As he untied her, she took a shaky step, her legs wobbling slightly. He handed her the crumpled dress, and she slipped it back on, feeling the fabric stick to her sweat-drenched skin. "Leave it here," he said with a cruel smirk. "Go home naked. And make sure you don't get caught by your husband."

Her heart racing, Mina nodded. She knew the drive home would be a mix of fear and excitement, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her forced climaxes. She stepped into her car, the cool leather of the seat a stark contrast to the heat between her legs. The engine roared to life, and she pulled away from the curb, her naked body on display through the windows. She had never felt more exposed, more alive.

The drive was a blur, the headlights piercing the darkness as she navigated the quiet streets. Every shadow could have been a hidden camera, every car a potential witness to her degradation. She felt a thrill at the risk, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a drug. The cool air brushed against her skin, making her nipples peak and her pussy throb with the memory of his touch.

Pulling into the garage, she killed the engine and took a deep breath. The house was dark, and she knew Alex would be asleep. She stepped out of the car, her bare feet hitting the cold concrete, the chill sending a shiver through her body. She tiptoed inside, the sound of her heels echoing in the silence. She made her way to the bathroom, her legs still trembling with the aftershocks of her experience. She slipped into the shower, the water scalding hot as she tried to scrub away the evidence of her betrayal. But she knew it was more than just physical; she had crossed a line she never thought she would.

The warmth of the water washed over her, mixing with her tears as she realized she had become the very thing she had once pitied: a woman willing to sell her body for the sake of her husband's business. Yet, as the water cascaded down her body, carrying away the traces of Y/n's semen, she felt a strange sense of empowerment. Despite the fear and the humiliation, she had survived. And the thought of going back for more, of being used and degraded by her powerful boss, sent a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore.

Mina stepped out of the shower, her body still trembling. The mirror reflected a woman she barely recognized, her makeup smudged, her hair a mess, and her eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and pleasure. She took a deep breath and opened her phone, the message from Y/n glaring at her from the screen. "This is your video from the red room. Upload it on your OnlyFans account tonight and make a slutty title." The words were a cold reminder of her new reality.

With trembling hands, she opened the file, watching herself being taken by her boss. The sight of his large, black cock pumping in and out of her made her stomach clench, both with disgust and an unwelcome wave of arousal. She forced herself to watch, to acknowledge what she had done. The video was explicit, her moans and cries of pleasure clear as day, and she felt a strange sense of pride knowing that she could handle something so intense.

But as she stared at the screen, she knew she couldn't just upload it. Not without a plan. She had to keep her identity a secret from Alex, from everyone. So she took another deep breath and opened her laptop, logging into her newly created OnlyFans account. The platform was a world of anonymity and depravity, a place where she could be anyone she wanted to be.

Her heart racing, she titled the video "My First Night with the Boss" and wrote a steamy description that made her skin crawl. She posted it, feeling a mix of excitement and dread as the notification popped up. "Video uploaded successfully." The thought of strangers watching her, getting off to her pain and pleasure, was both terrifying and exhilarating. But she had to push those thoughts aside. For now, she had to focus on the money and keeping her secret from Alex.

The morning came too quickly, and with it the inevitable return to the office. She tried to keep her head down, avoiding eye contact with Y/n as much as possible. But she could feel his gaze on her, a constant reminder of her new role. She sat at her desk, her mind racing with the events of the night before. The office was the same, but she felt different, tainted by her secret.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down, expecting it to be another notification from her OnlyFans. But it was a message from Y/n: "Came to my office, Mina. We have business to discuss." Her stomach dropped. She knew what he wanted, and she knew she had to go. With trembling legs, she stood and made her way down the hallway, the click of her heels echoing through the empty space.

His door was open, and she stepped inside, the smell of his cologne hitting her like a punch to the gut. He was sitting behind his desk, looking up at her with a smug smile. "Good morning, slut," he said, his eyes traveling up and down her body. "Take off your dress." She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew that she had no choice but to obey.

With shaking hands, she unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor. She was wearing nothing but a thong and a bra underneath, and she could feel his gaze burning through the thin fabric. "Turn around," he ordered, his voice firm. She did as she was told, her stomach flipping as she heard the sound of his chair rolling back. He stood up and came closer, his hand tracing the line of her thong, sending a jolt of arousal through her body.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled it down, letting it fall to her ankles. She stepped out of it, her bare ass on display. "Spread your cheeks," he murmured, his breath warm on her skin. She obeyed, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement as he inspected her. He stepped closer, and she felt the tip of his finger brush against her clit, making her jump.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees and buried his face in her pussy. His tongue was hot and wet, and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her. "Ahh, yes," she gasped, her body responding to his touch despite herself. He licked and sucked, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh, sending shockwaves through her body. Her legs trembled, and she had to grip the edge of the desk to keep herself upright.

"Y/n," she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper. He looked up at her, a smug grin on his face. "You like that, don't you?" She didn't answer, the sensation too intense to form words. He chuckled darkly and went back to work, his tongue delving deeper, finding spots that made her toes curl.

Mina felt herself getting wetter with each pass, her body betraying her as she leaned into the feeling. "Ahhh," she moaned louder, her voice echoing in the quiet office.

Y/n slid a finger into her pussy, and she gasped. The intrusion was sudden and intense, her mind going blank as she focused on the feeling. He moved his finger in and out, his thumb rubbing her clit with expert precision. It was as if he knew her body better than she did herself. She could feel her walls tightening around his digit, her muscles contracting with each stroke.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and she found herself moaning continuously, unable to form coherent thoughts or words. Her knees began to buckle, and she was grateful for the desk that kept her upright. "More," she begged, the need in her voice unmistakable. He complied, adding a second finger, stretching her even further.

The sensation was almost too much, the pain and pleasure blurring into a white-hot haze that consumed her. She couldn't believe she was letting her boss do this to her, but she couldn't stop. It was as if she was watching herself from the outside, a spectator to her own degradation. And yet, she craved more. "Harder," she whispered, her voice hoarse from the screams she had held back.

With a smirk, Y/n increased his pace, his fingers moving faster, pushing her closer to the edge. She could feel the pressure building, her orgasm just out of reach. "You're going to cum for me now," he said, his voice firm and commanding. And with that final push, she did, her body shuddering as she screamed his name.

The climax ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air. Her legs gave out, and she would have collapsed if it weren't for his firm grip on her hips. He pulled out his fingers, licking them clean, his eyes never leaving hers. "Good girl," he said, his voice a dark purr. "You're learning fast."

Mina couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride, despite the sickness in her stomach. She had never been one to enjoy pain, but the way he made her body respond was addictive. She reached for her dress, her hands shaking as she tried to cover herself up. But he stopped her, holding up a hand.

"Not so fast," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "I think we need a little... souvenir of our time together." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black device. "This little beauty is a mini-cam," he said, flicking it on to reveal the recording of her orgasm. "Every time you come for me, it'll be recorded for us to enjoy later."

Her eyes widened in horror as she watched the video, her own face a mask of pleasure and pain. She had never seen herself from that angle before, never realized how much she looked like she enjoyed it. "Y/n, please," she begged, her voice shaking. "Please don't do this."

He stepped closer, his breath warm against her ear. "It's already done," he whispered. "And who knows, maybe your husband would like to see his pretty wife taking a cock that's twice the size of his." The threat was clear, and she felt the color drain from her face. He was in complete control, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Mina nodded, her body trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. She knew she had to play along, to keep her secret and her marriage intact. She pulled her dress back up, trying to ignore the sticky wetness between her legs. "I'll upload it as soon as I get home," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The rest of the workday was a blur. She couldn't concentrate, her thoughts consumed by the video that was now in his possession. Every time she saw him in the office, she felt a strange mix of dread and excitement. What would he do with it? Would he share it with others? The thought made her stomach churn, but she couldn't deny the thrill of the risk.

Finally, the clock struck five, and she practically ran to the elevator, eager to escape the confines of the office. The ride home was torturous, her mind racing with what-ifs and fear of discovery. She knew she had to keep this from Alex at all costs, the thought of his reaction too much to bear.

As soon as she was in the privacy of her own home, she rushed to her laptop, her hands shaking as she logged into her OnlyFans account. She uploaded the video with trembling fingers, the title "Boss's Pet Gets What She Deserves." The click of the mouse button was like a gunshot in the silence of the room, finalizing her descent into a world she had never thought she would enter.

The video went live, and she watched as the views began to climb. The comments were a mix of praise and degradation, her secret admirers reveling in her humiliation. She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at the thought of them getting off to her pain. It was a twisted reality she had never imagined herself in, but here she was, playing the role of the obedient slut for the man who held the key to their financial future.

The next day, Mina walked into the office with a heavy heart, her chest feeling bare without the protection of her usual lingerie. She could feel the fabric of her blouse rubbing against her nipples with every step, the sensation a constant reminder of her submission. Y/n's eyes met hers, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He didn't say a word, but she knew he was aware of her predicament. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with the scent of his dominance and her growing arousal.

Throughout the day, she found herself constantly checking her phone, the messages from her anonymous fans sending a thrill through her that she couldn't ignore. They praised her, called her their whore, their slut, and she found herself craving the validation. Her body was a battleground of emotions, torn between the fear of her husband finding out and the desire for the intense pleasure Y/n provided.

The moment she saw the message from him, she felt a jolt of panic. "Mina, come to my office," it read, simple and to the point. She knew what it meant, knew what he wanted from her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stood, her legs shaky as she made her way to his domain.

Y/n looked up from his paperwork, his gaze raking over her body as she entered. "Take off your dress," he said, his voice calm and in control. She knew the drill now, the power dynamics set in stone. With trembling hands, she unzipped the garment, letting it pool around her feet.

"Now, show me that you did what I say," he demanded, his eyes gleaming with lust. She took a deep breath, her cheeks flaming red with humiliation as she complied. She reached under her skirt, her fingers touching the bare, sensitive skin of her pussy. She had never gone without underwear to work before, and the feeling of vulnerability was intense.

Mina parted her legs slightly, allowing him to see that she had indeed followed his order. His eyes darkened with approval, and she felt a strange mix of pride and shame. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

He tossed her a pair of vibrating underwear, the kind that had a slit for her pussy. "Put these on," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. She caught the underwear with trembling hands, her heart racing as she realized what he wanted her to do.

With shaky fingers, she slid the garment over her bare skin, the material clinging to her curves. She could feel the vibrator nestled in the slit, the buzzing a constant reminder of her submission. Y/n watched with a smug expression, enjoying the sight of her in the compromising position. "Now, go back to your desk," he said, his voice a low growl.

Mina nodded, stepping back into her heels. She made her way back to her cubicle, the vibrator pulsing with every step. She tried to focus on the spreadsheet in front of her, but it was useless. The sensation was too intense, too distracting. Her colleagues were oblivious to the torment she was enduring, their mundane chatter a stark contrast to the war raging inside her.

Her body was betraying her, the vibrator sending waves of pleasure through her core. She bit her lip to stifle the moans, her cheeks flushing as the first orgasm of the day ripped through her. It was like a storm she couldn't control, a silent scream trapped in her throat. Her eyes glazed over, and she had to grip the edge of her desk to keep from falling.

The climax left her breathless, her body trembling with the aftershocks. She tried to compose herself, but the vibrator didn't relent. It kept pulsing, demanding more from her. She knew she couldn't last the whole day like this, but she had no choice. She was his plaything now, and she had to follow his every command.

The hours passed like molasses, each second a battle between focusing on her work and the relentless buzzing between her legs. She found herself getting wetter, her pussy swollen and begging for relief. The anticipation was agonizing, a delicious torment that she couldn't escape.

When the next orgasm hit, it was like a surprise attack. Her body tensed, her toes curling in her heels as she bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She hoped no one had noticed the subtle tremor that had passed through her, the way her hand had gripped the mouse so tightly. But she couldn't be sure.

The rest of the day was a blur of forced climaxes, her body a slave to the vibrator's whims. Each wave of pleasure brought a fresh wave of fear and arousal. She was living a double life, and the line between the two was blurring. By the time she was allowed to leave, she was a wreck, her nerves frayed and her pussy sore. But she knew she couldn't let it show, not when Alex was waiting for her at home.

As she pulled into the garage, she saw the notification on her phone. It was a video from Y/n, timestamped from the middle of the day. Her heart raced as she played it, the image of her own face, flushed and desperate, appearing on the screen. It was a recording from the office security camera, capturing the moment she had lost control in the throes of pleasure. Her mouth open in a silent moan, eyes squeezed shut, her hands desperately trying to keep herself from being heard.

The message that accompanied the video was a taunt, a declaration of his power. "Mina, remember," he had typed, his words a knife to her gut, "I put every camera on you in the office. Now, put this video on your OnlyFans with the title 'A slut craving for a big dick while at work.'" The reality of her situation hit her like a truck, her secret now in his hands, ready to be shared with the world.

With trembling fingers, she uploaded the video, the title a twisted jest that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew it would drive her viewers wild, the thought of her being watched while she worked, her desperation palpable. The comments began to flood in, each one more degrading than the last. But she couldn't bring herself to take it down. The money was too good, the thrill too intense.

The days turned into weeks, and Mina found herself caught in a cycle of submission and degradation. She continued to work, her OnlyFans account growing, her interactions with Y/n more intense with every encounter. She felt like she was drowning in a sea of desire and fear, her marriage hanging by a thread she didn't dare to pull. Her relationship with Alex grew more strained, their passion replaced by the cold, hard truth of their financial situation.

But every time she felt like she couldn't go on, she remembered the promise she had made to save her husband's business. And so, she endured, her body a battleground of pleasure and pain, her soul a tapestry of conflicting emotions. Each time she uploaded a new video, each time she felt the eyes of her anonymous fans upon her, she felt a strange sense of purpose, of power. She was more than just a wife now; she was a commodity, a source of income, and a woman who could survive anything.

The day the message came, she felt a strange mix of relief and dread. Her phone buzzed, and she saw the text from Y/n: "Our contract will end in 3 days. I want you to stay at my home until your contract ends." She knew what he was asking of her, and she also knew she had no choice but to agree. It was a final push, a chance to pay off their debts and end this twisted arrangement. But the thought of being so completely under his control, with no escape, was terrifying.

Mina took a deep breath, her heart racing as she replied, "Okay." The word felt like a weight on her chest, but she had come too far to back out now. She packed a small bag, her mind racing with what lay ahead. What would he make her do? How much more could she take? She tried to ignore the dark excitement that bubbled in her stomach, the thrill of the unknown.

When she arrived at his mansion, the gates loomed before her, a symbol of the prison she was about to enter. The house was as grand and intimidating as she remembered, a testament to his wealth and power. She stepped inside, her heels clicking on the marble floor, the sound echoing through the hollow halls. Y/n was waiting for her, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Welcome home, Mina," he said, a smug smile playing on his lips. The words sent a chill down her spine, but she forced a smile in return. "I've been looking forward to having you all to myself." His tone was one of ownership, a stark reminder of her fate. She swallowed hard, her body already responding to his presence.

"I will tell you right now," he began, his voice a deep rumble that sent tremors through her core, "that you will only be living in the red room for the next three days." The room she had come to know so well, the stage for their twisted games, was to become her prison. "You will eat, sleep, and breathe in that room. You will only leave when I command it."

Mina felt a cold hand of fear grip her heart, but she nodded in compliance. She knew what was expected of her, and she would see it through. The red room was her sanctuary of sin, a place where she could be someone else, do things she had never dreamed of doing. She had become addicted to the thrill of submission, the power dynamics that played out within those four walls.

As she stepped into the red room, she noticed that it had been transformed. The bed was adorned with silk scarves and leather cuffs, and the air was heavy with the scent of lust. Her eyes widened at the sight of the new toys laid out on the bedside table, each one more intimidating than the last. "You've been a good girl," he said, his eyes raking over her, "but now, it's time to push your boundaries even further."

Mina felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead as he approached her, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek. He guided her to a chair in the center of the room, one that she had never seen before. It was made of a sleek, black material, and it looked as if it had been designed with one purpose in mind: her submission. Her heart raced as he bound her wrists and ankles to the chair, the ropes biting into her skin, leaving her completely at his mercy.

He stepped back, admiring his handiwork, before he began his twisted game of tease. His fingers traced over her skin, skimming across her breasts, her stomach, and her thighs. Each touch sent a shiver through her body, her anticipation building to a fever pitch. The fabric over her eyes was tight, leaving her in darkness, heightening every sensation. "Please," she whimpered, her voice shaking with need. "I can't take it anymore. Give me your cock."

Y/n's chuckle was the only response she received. He continued his torturous exploration, his touch featherlight, driving her to the brink of madness. She could feel her pussy growing wetter with every stroke, her body begging for relief. "Please," she moaned, "please, I need it. I can't handle this."

He leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "You want this, don't you?" His voice was a seductive whisper, a promise of pleasure wrapped in the threat of pain. "Beg for it," he ordered, his hand moving to her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. "Beg like the whore you are."

Mina's body responded to his dominance, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend the situation. "Yes," she choked out, "I need it. I'm begging you, please give me your cock."

The fabric was ripped away from her eyes, and she stared up at him, his expression a mix of amusement and lust. He stepped back, his cock already hard and ready. He didn't waste any time, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor. His shirt followed, revealing his muscular chest and abs.

He approached her again, his cock in hand, stroking it slowly. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice firm. "Look at what you've become." She couldn't help but watch, her eyes transfixed on the monstrous length of him. The fear and excitement melded into one, creating a potent cocktail that left her breathless.

He stepped closer, positioning himself between her spread legs. She could feel the head of his cock brushing against her, teasing her wetness. "Beg," he said again, his voice a low growl.

"Please," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I need you inside me."

With a sadistic smile, Y/n leaned down and untied the ropes around her ankles. She let out a sigh of relief, her legs feeling like jelly as she tried to stand. He took her hand and led her to the bed, the plush mattress a stark contrast to the cold, hard chair. Her body was a canvas of bruises and marks from their previous encounters, but she didn't protest as he laid her down, her back arching with the softness of the bed beneath her.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill of excitement and fear through her. Mina complied, her heart racing as she positioned herself on the bed, her ass in the air. The cool air of the room brushed against her wet pussy, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

He approached her, his hand coming down to rest on her lower back. "You've been a naughty girl," he murmured, his voice a dark promise of what was to come. She felt his finger probe at her entrance, slick with her desire. He pushed it in, hard and fast, making her gasp. His hand was rough, his movements unyielding, and she could feel herself stretching around him.

The second finger followed, and then the third, each thrust sending waves of painful pleasure through her. She moaned, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. "Yes," she heard him murmur, his voice filled with satisfaction. "That's it. Take it like the whore you are." His grip tightened on her hips, his fingers moving faster, harder. The pain grew, but so did her arousal.

He pulled his hand away, and she felt the head of his cock at her entrance, thick and demanding. "U like that whore?" he repeated, his voice taunting, pushing her buttons. She nodded, unable to form words. It was a question that didn't need an answer, a declaration of her new reality.

With one firm thrust, he filled her completely, his cock stretching her to her limits. Mina cried out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming her senses. He paused, his cock buried deep inside her, and she felt his hand come down hard on her ass. "Who has the best cock?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper in the quiet room.

"My husband," she lied, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain her façade. The lie hung in the air, a stark reminder of the life she had left behind for this twisted world of debt and desire.

Y/n's hand swung down again, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing through the red room. "The truth," he demanded, his voice a low rumble of dominance. Mina gritted her teeth, the sting of his hand on her ass a stark reminder of her new reality.

"You," she finally admitted, the word slipping out in a rush of breath. "You have the best cock." His grip tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh, and she felt a surge of arousal at the admission. It was the truth, no matter how much she didn't want to admit it.

"Scream it," he ordered, his voice harsh and demanding. His hand came down again, the slap resonating through the room. She bit back a whimper, her pussy clenching around his shaft. The pleasure was almost unbearable, the pain a strange complement to the feeling of his thickness inside her.

"You are the best, my husband's dick was a quarter of your size," she gasped, her voice strained with each thrust. "He can't reach what you do inside my pussy." The words were a declaration of her submission, a confession that sent a jolt of arousal through her body. She felt the head of his cock hit her cervix, the sensation so intense it was almost unbearable.

Her body responded to his dominance, her pussy clenching and releasing around him, eager for more. Each slap on her ass brought a fresh wave of pleasure, a dark symphony of sensation that had her screaming his name. "Y/n, yes, yes," she chanted, her voice a litany of need and desperation.

Her orgasm was like a dam breaking, a flood of sensation that washed over her. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, the mix of pain and pleasure too much to hold back. "That's right," he groaned, his voice thick with his own desire. "You're mine now. You're nothing but a slut for my cock."

Mina's eyes rolled back in her head, her body writhing beneath him as she came. She had never felt so used, so utterly owned. And yet, she couldn't help but love it. The orgasm ripped through her, leaving her trembling and gasping for air.

He didn't stop, his strokes becoming more erratic, his breathing ragged. She could feel his cock swelling inside her, the promise of his release imminent. "Cum for me," he demanded, his voice a harsh growl. "I want to feel you milk my cock."

Her pussy clenched around him, her body responding to his words. The orgasm built again, a crescendo of pleasure that had her screaming. She could feel his hot breath on her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he bit down, claiming her in the most primal way.

With a roar, he released inside her, filling her with his cum. She felt it spurt hot and thick, the sensation of his seed filling her making her orgasm all the more intense. Her body was a wreck, her pussy sore and her ass bruised, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

As he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and exhausted. He leaned over her, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice filled with possession. "And you will always come back for more."

Mina looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and pain. She knew it was true, that she would always come back for more of what he had to give her. Her life had changed irrevocably, and she was powerless to stop it. But as she lay there, the warmth of his cum inside her, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: alive.

The morning of the second day dawned, and Mina woke up with a start in the unfamiliar bed. Her body was sticky with sweat and cum, the scent of sex still lingering in the air. She tried to sit up, but her muscles protested, the evidence of the previous night's exertion clear. The sheets were tangled around her, a testament to the tumultuous night she had endured.

Her eyes searched the room, and she spotted a gleaming chain and a collar lying on the nightstand. The sight of them sent a shiver down her spine, her stomach flipping with a mix of dread and anticipation. Y/n had left them there as a reminder of their arrangement, a symbol of her servitude. She reached out, her hand trembling, and picked them up.

The chain was cold and heavy in her hand, the metal links glinting in the soft morning light. The collar was made of the same material, with a small, delicate lock at the back. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, a stark contrast to the stark reality of her situation. She knew what it meant: she was his, to use as he saw fit, until the end of their contract.

The door to the red room opened, and in strode Y/n, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of her. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his tie askew and his hair disheveled. "Good morning, my pet," he purred, his voice sending a thrill through her. "I trust you slept well."

Mina could only nod, her voice failing her. She felt his hand on her neck, the collar cool against her skin as he fastened it around her. The lock clicked into place, the sound final and irrevocable. He attached the chain to the collar, the other end in his hand. "Today," he began, "we're going to explore some new boundaries."

He led her out of the red room, the chain jingling softly with each step she took. They moved through the mansion, her eyes downcast, her body sore from the previous night's exertions. The sun had barely risen, casting a soft glow over the opulent surroundings. He took her to the back of the house, and she knew what was coming next.

The door to the expansive lawn swung open, revealing a lush carpet of dew-kissed grass. The morning air was crisp, the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass filling her nose. Y/n attached the leash to her collar and gave a firm tug, guiding her down the steps. "Walk," he ordered, his voice low and firm.

Mina obeyed, her legs shaking as she descended into the role he had chosen for her. The cold metal of the leash was a constant reminder of her subservience, the coolness of the metal against her skin sending shivers down her spine. The dew on the grass was like a caress, a stark contrast to the harshness of her situation.

The leash was short, forcing her to move on all fours as he walked beside her, his grip unyielding. She could feel the leather of the collar cutting into her neck, a constant reminder of her new status. She was his pet, his toy, and she would act accordingly.

The world outside the mansion was quiet, the only sounds the distant chirp of birds and the rustle of leaves. The cool breeze kissed her skin, raising goosebumps despite the warmth of the early morning. Each step was a battle against her pride, her body moving in a way that was both humiliating and exhilarating.

He led her around the lawn, her breasts swaying with each step, the cool air teasing her erect nipples. The leather of the collar was already growing warm from her skin, the metal of the leash cold in her palm. She felt the tension in her body, the fear of being caught mingling with the excitement of their secret.

Without warning, Y/n stopped and bent down, his hand slipping between her legs. He inserted the vibrator into her pussy, the buzzing sound filling the silence. She gasped, the sudden intrusion both painful and exhilarating. He didn't stop there, his fingers probing until he found her ass, slipping the second vibrator inside her tight hole. She whimpered, the feeling overwhelming as he turned both devices to their highest setting.

"Walk," he commanded, tugging on the leash. She stumbled forward, the vibrations setting her nerves on fire. The sensation was intense, the vibrations from the toys sending waves of pleasure through her body as she stumbled along the grass. The coolness of the dew on her hands and knees was a stark contrast to the heat building inside her.

Her pussy and ass were stretched wide by the vibrating intrusion, each step sending new jolts of pleasure through her. She felt the grass tickling her bare skin, the sensation a strange mix of pain and arousal. The early morning dew soaked into her, making her feel even more exposed, even more like a wild creature being tamed by its master.

They continued their perverse journey across the lawn, the vibrations growing more intense with each passing moment. Mina's eyes were wide with shock and arousal, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. She could feel her body growing wetter, her juices mixing with the coolness of the dew.

As they approached the edge of the lawn, Y/n paused again, his eyes scanning the surrounding woods. The early light painted the trees in shades of gold, the leaves whispering secrets in the breeze. He leaned in close, his breath hot in her ear. "You're going to cum for me, my pet," he whispered. "And when you do, I want you to scream my name."

The anticipation was unbearable, the vibrations reaching a crescendo as she felt her orgasm building. Her body tensed, her muscles tightening around the toys as she struggled not to scream. But she knew she couldn't hold out much longer, the pleasure too much to contain. And when it came, it was like a dam bursting, her body shuddering with the force of it.

The scream ripped from her throat, echoing through the quiet morning. She could feel the eyes of the forest upon her, watching her degradation. But she didn't care. In that moment, she was free, a creature of pure need and desire. And as she collapsed to the ground, panting and trembling, she knew she would always come back for more of what he had to give.

Y/n's hand tightened on the leash, his grip firm as he pulled her back to her feet. "Who is your master, Mina?" he repeated, his voice a dark thunder in the stillness.

Her eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze like a brand on her soul. "You are," she murmured, the words a declaration of her submission. The words were like a drug, a heady mix of fear and excitement that left her breathless.

They continued their perverse walk, the vibrations never relenting, her body a playground for his desires. The leather of the collar grew warm and sticky with her sweat, the chain a constant reminder of her captivity. Each step sent a new wave of pleasure through her, the vibrations from the toys in her pussy and ass creating a symphony of sensation that was impossible to ignore.

Mina's body was a battleground, her mind screaming for relief while her body craved more. Her pussy was a river of juices, soaking the leather of the collar, trailing down her stomach to pool on the grass beneath her. The sun had fully risen now, casting a golden light over the scene, turning their walk of shame into a macabre dance of submission.

The heat of the afternoon sun bore down on them, turning the dew to steam. Her body was a wreck, her muscles screaming with fatigue. Yet, she continued to follow him, driven by a force she didn't fully understand. The vibrations grew more intense with each step, the buzzing a constant reminder of her predicament. Her orgasms had become a blur, her cries of pleasure now mingling with whimpers of pain.

Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his grip on the leash unwavering. He led her to a small gazebo in the center of the garden, the ivy-covered structure offering a semblance of privacy. He paused, the leather of the leash taut between them. "You've done well, my pet," he said, his voice a purr of approval. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With a flick of his wrist, he attached the leash to a hook on the side of the gazebo. She was forced to stand, the vibrations from the toys inside her unrelenting. Her legs were shaking, her body trembling with the effort to remain upright. "Spread your legs," he ordered, his voice a low growl that sent a fresh surge of arousal through her.

Mina obeyed, her muscles protesting as she spread her legs. The vibrations grew more intense, the sensation like a thousand tiny hands caressing her swollen flesh. She could feel the eyes of the forest upon her, watching her most intimate moments. But she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was the pleasure that Y/n brought her, the painful bliss that she had grown to crave.

He stepped back, his hand moving to his belt. With a slow, deliberate motion, he unbuckled it, the sound echoing through the gazebo. "You're going to scream my name again," he promised, his voice dark and seductive. "And this time, I want the whole world to hear it."

The leather strap came down hard across her ass, the pain making her gasp. The vibrations from the toys grew more intense, the sting of the belt sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. Her orgasm was building again, the tension coiling in her belly like a snake ready to strike.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. His hand caressed her cheek, the leather of the belt a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch. "You're going to love this," he murmured, the promise in his voice making her stomach flip.

He began to smack her body in a rhythm, the leather biting into her flesh with each strike. Her breasts bounced with each hit, the pain mixing with the pleasure from the vibrators. She could feel her body responding, her pussy growing wetter, her ass clenching around the toy inside her. The sound of leather on skin echoed through the gazebo, a testament to their twisted games.

Mina's cries grew louder, each smack pushing her closer to the edge. Her eyes rolled back in her head, her body a tapestry of pain and pleasure. She was his, utterly and completely, and she reveled in the feeling of submission.

The leather met her skin again and again, each smack more punishing than the last. Her body was on fire, the pain a crescendo that built and built. And then, just as she thought she couldn't take any more, it stopped. The vibrations ceased, the world going silent.

Y/n stepped closer, his eyes boring into hers. "You're mine," he whispered, his breath hot and demanding. "And you will always be mine." The finality of his words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of fear and excitement.

He unclipped the leash, his grip on the collar tight as he pulled her closer. "Now," he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips, "it's time to show the world who you truly are." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen glowing with the promise of a new audience for her degradation.

Mina's heart raced, her mind reeling with the implications of his words. What was he going to do? What would happen when the world saw her like this? The fear grew in her chest, a dark cloud threatening to swallow her whole.

He held the phone up, the camera focused on her tear-stained face. "Say it," he demanded. "Say you're my whore." Her voice was a broken whisper, the words sticking in her throat like shards of glass.

"I'm your whore," she choked out, the admission like a knife to her soul. He clicked a photo, the flash momentarily blinding her. The evidence of her degradation would now be etched into digital immortality, a secret that could be shared with the world at his whim.

The fear grew, a thick, choking presence in her chest. What would Alex think? What would their friends and family say? But even as the dread consumed her, she couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her at the thought of being exposed.

Y/n's hand traveled down her body, his fingers finding her clit, the sensation making her gasp. "Good girl," he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now, let's make some more content for your adoring fans." He turned the camera to record, the red light blinking ominously.

Mina felt the panic rise, her body trembling with the weight of her decision. But the fear was laced with excitement, a toxic cocktail that had her panting and begging for more. He began to flick her clit with the precision of a master craftsman, her body responding despite her inner turmoil.

Her cries grew louder as he worked her, his other hand reaching down to remove the toys from her pussy and ass. He tossed them aside, his cock already hard and waiting for her. "Take it," he ordered, pushing her down onto her knees. She opened her mouth, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

The saltiness of his cock filled her mouth, the taste of their previous encounter still lingering. She took him deep, her throat constricting around his length. The camera rolled, capturing every moment of her degradation, every tear that fell from her eyes.

The vibrations started again, the toys in her hand now a part of the show. She brought them to her own pussy, her body responding with a desperate need for release. The sound of her moans and the slapping of his hand against her ass filled the gazebo, a symphony of submission for his enjoyment.

As he fucked her mouth, she worked the toys inside herself, her body a playground for his desires. She could feel her orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that she knew would consume her. And when it did, she screamed, the sound a mix of ecstasy and despair.

Y/n pulled out of her mouth, his cock glistening with her saliva. He grabbed the phone, filming himself as he painted her face with his cum, the hot liquid a brand of ownership. She closed her eyes, her body shuddering with the aftershocks of her climax.

"Now, let's go," he said, his voice a cold command. He tugged at the leash, pulling her to her feet. Her legs were shaky, her knees threatening to give out beneath her. The vibrating toys were still lodged deep inside her, the painful pleasure a constant reminder of her submission.

They began the long walk back to the mansion, her body trembling with each step. The leather of the collar and the metal of the leash were slick with her sweat and his cum, a testament to their depraved play. Each step sent a fresh wave of pain through her, her ass and pussy still throbbing from the belt and his relentless fucking.

"Can you take out the vibrator, Master?" she begged, her voice a ragged whisper. The pain had become unbearable, the pleasure a distant memory. Her body was a canvas of bruises and marks, a map of his dominance.

He chuckled darkly, his hand coming down hard on her ass. "How dare you ask for mercy?" he taunted. She whimpered, the sting of his hand making her eyes water. The vibrations grew more intense, the toys inside her a constant torment.

"Please," she sobbed, her body slick with sweat and cum. The leather of the collar was biting into her neck, the metal of the leash digging into her wrists. But he ignored her pleas, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watched her suffer.

The mansion loomed ahead, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of the garden. Each step brought her closer to the reality of what she had become. A whore. His whore. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, despite the pain.

As they approached the mansion, she could feel the vibrations growing stronger, the toys inside her a relentless tease. Her legs felt like they would buckle at any moment, her body a wreck of pleasure and pain. She knew what was waiting for her inside the red room, knew that her punishment was far from over.

Yet, she walked on, driven by a force beyond her control. The leather of the collar was a noose around her neck, the leash a chain that bound her to him. She was his, and she knew that she would always come back for more of his twisted games.

The mansion's doors swung open, the coolness of the air-conditioned interior a stark contrast to the heat outside. She stumbled through the entrance, her eyes downcast. The sound of the doors closing behind them was like the final nail in her coffin, sealing her fate.

He led her back to the red room, his grip on the leash unyielding. "On the bed," he ordered, his voice a harsh whisper.

Mina stumbled onto the bed, her body a trembling mess of need and pain. She went down on all fours, her eyes searching for his approval. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whine. "Give me your dick, my master." The words tasted like sin on her lips, but she couldn't get enough.

He stepped closer, his cock hard and demanding. "Give to me that big fucking black cock," she pleaded, her voice thick with desire. She could feel the toys inside her, the vibrations now a taunting reminder of what she had lost. Her dignity, her self-respect, all of it replaced by an insatiable hunger for his touch.

Y/n's eyes flashed with amusement as he climbed onto the bed, his knees on either side of her. He grabbed her hips, his grip bruising. "You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "You want me to pound you like the whore you are."

Mina nodded, her voice a desperate whimper. "Yes, master. Please pound me hard." She knew what was coming, knew that she would beg for mercy and he would give her none. But in that moment, she didn't care. All she cared about was feeling him inside her again, feeling that all-consuming pleasure that only he could give.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock slick with her juices and his own lust. "Beg for it," he said, his voice a dark command. "Beg me to fuck you."

Her eyes met his, filled with a mix of fear and arousal. "Please," she sobbed. "I need you to fuck me. I need to feel you inside me." Her words were a confession, a declaration of her complete and utter surrender to his will.

Y/n smirked, the cruel glint in his eyes telling her he knew exactly what she was feeling. He pulled the vibrator out of her pussy, the sudden emptiness leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. But he left the one in her ass, the constant buzz a reminder of her submission. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock thick and throbbing.

With one swift movement, he plunged into her, the sensation making her scream. The vibrator in her ass continued to buzz, the sensation now amplified by the feeling of his cock filling her completely. Her body was a symphony of pleasure and pain, a fine line that she danced upon with each of his punishing strokes.

Mina felt his hands grip her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he began to pound her. Each thrust sent shockwaves of sensation through her body, the vibrations from the toy in her ass resonating with the impact of his cock. She could feel her orgasm building again, the tension coiling in her stomach like a serpent.

Her screams grew louder, her body moving with his rhythm, desperate for the release he had conditioned her to crave. He was her master, her god, the source of her pleasure and her pain. She was his to use, his to abuse, and she loved every second of it.

The room was filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the smell of sex heavy in the air. She could feel her pussy clenching around him, her body desperate for the release he had promised. "Please," she begged, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Let me cum, master."

He leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck. "You want it?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper. "You want to cum for me?" His grip tightened, his strokes growing more erratic. She nodded, her eyes squeezed shut, the world narrowing to the feeling of his cock inside her.

"Then cum," he ordered, his voice a low growl. And with that, she did. Her body convulsed, her pussy spasming around his length. She felt him swell, his cock pulsing with his own climax, and she knew that she had served her purpose once again.

As he pulled out, she collapsed onto the bed, her body spent. The vibrator in her ass was still going, the sensation now one of pain rather than pleasure. But she didn't dare ask for it to be removed. She knew her place now, knew that she was nothing but his whore to use and discard.

The chain of the collar jingled as he pulled her upright, the leather sticking to her sweat-slicked skin. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction.

Mina couldn't speak, couldn't even think. Her body was a maelstrom of sensation, the vibrations from the toys a constant reminder of her submission. She watched through hooded eyes as he strolled over to the wall of BDSM toys, his eyes scanning the selection with the intensity of a hunter choosing its prey.

He selected a set of nipple clamps, the metal gleaming in the soft light of the room. She whimpered as he approached, the anticipation of pain making her pussy throb with need. He attached them to her swollen peaks, tightening them until she gasped. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low growl. She raised her gaze to meet his, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and desire.

The second night in the red room began with a fierce intensity that surpassed the first. He was an animal, his eyes wild with lust as he stared at her. She felt his hand come down on her ass, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing through the room. Each spank sent a jolt of pain through her body, the vibrator inside her a constant presence.

Her skin was on fire, each smack making her pussy wetter. She could feel his cock, thick and demanding, pressing against her thigh as he worked her over. The pain grew, the pleasure grew, until she could no longer tell where one began and the other ended.

With a snarl, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her onto her knees. "You want this?" he asked, his cock bobbing in front of her face. She nodded, her eyes never leaving his, and took him into her mouth, the taste of her own juices mixed with the saltiness of his pre-cum.

The vibrations grew stronger, the toy in her ass a constant torment. She moaned around his length, her eyes watering with the effort. His hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place as he began to fuck her mouth with the same ferocity he had her pussy.

The room was a blur, the only thing she could focus on was the feeling of his cock in her mouth, the sound of his grunts of pleasure. The vibrations grew more intense, the pain and pleasure swirling together until she could no longer tell them apart.

He pulled her head back, his cock popping out of her mouth with a wet sound. "You're mine," he said, his voice a dark whisper. "Say it."

Mina could barely breathe, but she managed to gasp out, "I'm yours, Master." The words were a declaration, a promise that she would submit to his every whim, no matter how twisted or depraved.

He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear. "Prove it," he whispered. "Prove to me that you're mine." His hand left her hair, instead reaching for the vibrator still buried in her ass. He cranked it up to the maximum setting, the buzzing so loud it was almost deafening.

Her body convulsed, her eyes rolling back in her head. The pain was exquisite, the pleasure unbearable. Her pussy was a river, the scent of her arousal filling the room. He took his cock in hand, stroking it as he watched her squirm.

"Look at me," he demanded again, his voice a harsh command. She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze as he stroked himself. The vibrations grew stronger, the pain in her ass now a crescendo of agony.

And then, with a roar, he came, painting her face with his cum. She could feel the hot liquid on her cheeks, her eyes, her nose. The taste of him filled her mouth, mixing with the metallic taste of her own blood. But she didn't flinch, didn't look away. She was his, completely and utterly.

The vibrations stopped, the silence deafening in their intensity. He pulled the toy out of her ass, the sudden absence of pain making her gasp. He threw it aside, his eyes never leaving hers. "Now," he said, his voice calm once more, "we begin."

He unclipped the leash, the metal clanking against the floor. "Clean yourself up," he ordered. She stumbled to the bathroom, her legs shaky from the abuse. The mirror showed a reflection she barely recognized: a woman covered in cum and bruises, a woman who had given herself completely to a monster.

But as she cleaned herself, the pain slowly ebbing away, she felt a strange sense of pride. She had survived the first two days, and she would survive the last one. For Alex, for their future, she would endure whatever Y/n had planned.

The sun had set by the time she emerged from the bathroom, the room cast in shadows that danced with the candles' flickering light. She knew the third and final night would be the most intense, a crescendo to the symphony of submission she had been playing.

Mina lay on the bed, her body a canvas of bruises and marks, each one a testament to her submission. She closed her eyes, willing herself to rest, to regain the strength she would need for the night ahead. Despite the pain, she slept deeply, her dreams filled with images of Y/n's dominance, her mind reeling from the tumult of emotions that plagued her.

When she awoke, it was to the sound of the door opening, the scent of his cologne filling the room. She sat up, her eyes heavy with fatigue, her body aching for his touch. The red glow of the room washed over her, the candles casting an eerie light that painted the room in a bloody hue.

Y/n walked in, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat from his day's exertions. She watched as he removed his tie, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You've been asleep for quite some time," he said, his voice a low purr that sent shivers down her spine. "I've missed my little whore." He strode over to the bed, his hand reaching out to trace the bruises on her thigh. She flinched at his touch, the pain a stark reminder of her place in his world.

"Please, master," she whispered, her voice a hoarse plea. "I need you." The words were a confession, a declaration of her need for his dominance.

He smirked, his hand sliding up to cup her pussy. She was already wet, her body betraying her. "You're eager, aren't you?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper. "Eager for more of my cock."

Mina nodded, her eyes never leaving his. She was his, completely and utterly. The last shreds of her pride had been stripped away, leaving only a desperate craving for the pleasure he could give her.

He leaned in, his mouth claiming hers in a brutal kiss that left her breathless. His tongue invaded her, tasting her, claiming her. She moaned into his mouth, her body responding to his touch despite the exhaustion.

When he pulled away, she was left gasping for air. "Tonight," he murmured against her lips, "you will truly understand what it means to be mine."

Y/n's eyes were wild with a feral hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. He grabbed the chain attached to her collar, pulling her off the bed. She stumbled after him, her legs still weak from the previous nights of abuse. He led her to the center of the room, the floor cold and unforgiving beneath her bare feet.

"On your knees," he ordered, his voice a low growl. Mina obeyed, her knees hitting the floor with a painful thud. She watched as he approached, his cock thick and erect, the head glistening with precum. The anticipation was unbearable, her body already quivering with need.

He grabbed the two vibrators from the bedside table, his eyes never leaving hers. "You've been a very bad girl," he said, his voice a dark promise. "You need to be punished."

Mina felt the coolness of the first vibrator as he pushed it into her ass, the sensation making her whimper. He didn't stop there, instead pushing the second one in alongside it, stretching her beyond what she thought was possible. The pain was a living entity, consuming her, becoming her. She felt her pussy clench in response, her body betraying her with its need.

With a cruel smile, he turned the vibrators on, the buzzing a harsh intrusion in the quiet room. Her scream filled the air, echoing off the walls. The sensation was overwhelming, the pain and pleasure a tornado that she couldn't escape. She felt him behind her, his hands on her hips, his cock pressing against her slick entrance.

He didn't bother with preliminaries, instead slamming into her with a brutal force that made her eyes water. She could feel the vibrators moving inside her, the sensation a symphony of agony and ecstasy. Her screams grew louder with each thrust, the vibrations setting her nerves on fire.

The world outside the red room ceased to exist, the only reality the feel of him fucking her, the buzz of the vibrators in her ass, the pain of his grip on her hips. She was lost in the maelstrom of sensation, her mind a blank canvas of submission.

He fucked her like he owned her, and she knew he did. Each thrust was a claim, a declaration of his dominance. She could feel her orgasm building, a pressure that grew with each plunge of his cock. "Scream for me," he demanded, his voice a thunder in her ears.

And scream she did, the sound tearing from her throat like a wild animal. Her body convulsed around him, her pussy spasming with the force of her climax. Yet, he didn't stop, didn't give her a moment's reprieve. He continued to pound into her, the vibrations from the toys driving her over the edge again and again.

Her cries grew more desperate, her body a wreck of pleasure. She didn't know if she could take anymore, didn't know if she wanted to. Yet, she begged for more, her voice a broken plea. He was her master, and she would endure whatever he had planned for her, for Alex, for their future.

Y/n's hand kept slapping her ass, each smack a brand that marked her as his. The vibrations from the toys were relentless, the pain morphing into something else entirely. Something that made her body quiver and arch back towards him, eager for more. Her orgasms were like a series of explosions, each one more intense than the last.

His grip on her hips tightened, his strokes growing more frenzied. She could feel him getting closer, his breath hot and ragged against her neck. "MINE," he roared, his voice a declaration of ownership that sent a fresh wave of arousal through her. Her pussy clenched around his cock, her body betraying her with its need for his release.

Y/n pulled out, the sound of her body's protest a symphony in the quiet room. He spun her around, her legs giving out beneath her. He caught her, his arms like steel bands around her waist. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with lust, her mouth open in a silent plea.

He didn't speak, his actions speaking louder than any words could. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist. His cock slammed into her pussy again, the angle hitting her g-spot with a precision that had her seeing stars. The vibrations in her ass grew stronger, the pain a beautiful agony that had her panting.

Mina's head fell back, her mouth open in a silent scream. Her body was his plaything, a toy for his pleasure. He fucked her mercilessly, his thrusts punctuated by the smack of his hand against her ass. Each hit sent her spiraling closer to the edge, the pain and pleasure coalescing into something dark and beautiful.

And then, with one final, brutal thrust, he came. The vibrations grew even stronger, the sensation too much to bear. She felt the warmth of his cum fill her ass, the pressure unbearable. She clenched around the toys, her orgasm ripping through her like a tornado.

Her vision swam, the room spinning. She could feel herself slipping away, the edges of consciousness a distant memory. But even as the darkness claimed her, she felt his hand on her throat, his grip firm but not painful. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low growl.

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his gaze. He leaned in, his cock still hard, his eyes burning with a fierce hunger. "You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise. "Always and forever." And with that, he thrust into her mouth, his cum spilling down her throat in hot, salty spurts. She gagged, her throat tight around his length, but she didn't fight him.

As he pulled out, she felt her body give out. Her legs went limp, her arms sliding down his body. The world went black, the only sound the ringing in her ears. The last thing she felt was his hand on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek with a tenderness that was at odds with the brutality of their encounter.

And then there was nothing.

Mina's world went dark, her body a crumpled mess in the arms of the man who had just claimed her so thoroughly. She felt weightless, floating in a sea of pleasure and pain.

Y/n carefully laid her on the bench in the center of the red room, her legs still quivering from the intensity of her orgasm. Her mouth hung open, cum and saliva pooling on her chin, a testament to her complete submission. Her pussy was still wide, stretched from his brutal use, a slick mess of arousal and his seed. Her body was a canvas of red, the imprints of his handiwork a stark contrast against her pale skin.

While she remained unconscious, Y/n moved with a purposeful grace, his eyes never leaving Mina's limp form. He selected a length of rope from the wall of toys, his calloused fingers running along the coarse fibers. The scent of leather and sweat filled the air as he approached, a silent promise of what was to come.

He began by securing her wrists to the chair, his movements methodical and precise. Each loop of rope was tightened with a firm tug, ensuring she would be unable to move. Her arms were stretched taut, her breasts heaving with each shallow breath she took. Despite the pain that would surely follow, there was a strange beauty in her vulnerability, her submission laid bare for his enjoyment.

Y/n picked up a marker, the black ink gleaming under the candlelight. He bent over her, the tip of the marker tracing the word "slut" in an elegant script across her chest. She flinched at the cold touch of the plastic, the harsh reality of her situation sinking in deeper. With each stroke, he claimed her, branding her as his own. He moved lower, writing "Whore" across her stomach in bold letters. The words stung, but the pain was a strange kind of pleasure, a reminder of her place in this twisted game of power and control.

Next, he marked her thighs, scribbling "Y/n pet" and "BBC slut" with a sadistic smile. Each word was a brand, a declaration of ownership that sent a shiver down her spine. He took his time, savoring the moment, his eyes lingering on the words as if they were a sacred incantation that bound her to him for all eternity.

Mina's eyes fluttered open, the pain from the rope burns bringing her back to reality. Y/n's eyes gleamed with excitement as he took in her wide-eyed terror. "Good," he murmured, his voice a dark caress. "You're awake for the grand finale."

He stepped away, his eyes scanning the room before landing on a duffle bag in the corner. He pulled out two vibrators, the size of them making Mina's heart race. They were longer, thicker, and more intimidating than anything she had ever seen. "Time to see if you can handle two," he said, his voice filled with a twisted sense of amusement.

Mina felt the coolness of the first vibrator as he pushed it into her already sore pussy. She bit her lip to stifle a scream, her eyes watering with the pain of the intrusion. He didn't stop, instead pushing the second one in alongside it. The feeling was overwhelming, a stretch that made her feel like she was being split in two.

Y/n's fingers danced over the buttons, the vibrations starting slow, almost gentle. She panted, her body trying to adjust to the new sensation. But he wasn't satisfied with gentle, not tonight. The vibrations grew stronger, the two toys moving in unison, a symphony of pain and pleasure that had her writhing in the chair.

Her mind was a whirlwind, unable to focus on anything but the relentless buzzing inside her. Time lost all meaning, the only constant the steady beat of the vibrators and the pain that grew with each passing moment. She was his, utterly and completely, and she knew it. The pain was a reminder, a brand that seared itself into her very soul.

As dawn approached, the red room grew lighter, the candles flickering out one by one. Y/n watched her, his expression unreadable. He didn't speak, didn't move. He was a silent sentinel, a god of lust and punishment, watching her dance on the edge of sanity.

When the sun fully rose, he finally approached her. His hands were firm as he turned off the vibrators, the sudden absence of noise and sensation leaving her feeling empty. He pulled them out with a slow, deliberate movement that had her gasping for breath. She felt the warmth of his cum inside her, a final reminder of her submission.

"Let's go," he said, his voice a harsh command that brought her back to reality. He fastened a leather collar around her neck, the metal tag jingling against the collarbone chain. She could feel the weight of his ownership, a constant reminder of her role in this twisted arrangement.

Mina's body was a wreck, her muscles screaming for relief. Yet, she managed to stand, her legs shaking with the effort. Y/n's hand was a vise around her arm, keeping her upright as he led her from the room. The cold morning air hit her skin like a slap, her bruises and welts standing out in stark relief.

He didn't speak as they walked through the mansion, his grip on her unyielding. She felt like a ragdoll in his grasp, used and discarded. But there was something else there too, a strange sense of pride that she had survived the final night.

As they reached the front door, she saw her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back at her was a stranger, a creature of need and desire, of pain and pleasure. But she knew it was her, the woman she had become.

Y/n opened the door, the bright light of the outside world blinding her. "Let me take you to your husband," he said, his voice a dark promise. She had no idea what awaited her at home, but she knew she would face it with the knowledge of what she had become for their future.

The drive to her house was a blur, the only sounds the hum of the engine and the steady throb of the collar around her neck. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, too ashamed of what she had done. But she knew she had no choice, not if she wanted to save Alex's business.

When they pulled into the driveway, the sight of her husband standing at the door was like a punch to the gut. He was dressed in his usual business casual attire, looking every inch the successful entrepreneur. But the moment he saw her, his eyes widened in horror. "What happened to you, Mina?" he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n's grip on her arm tightened, his chuckle low and menacing. He stepped out of the car, pulling her along behind him. "Let me show you," he said, his eyes gleaming with a twisted pride. He pushed her towards Alex, her legs stumbling under the weight of her own humiliation.

Alex's face paled as he took in her bruised and marked body. The cum that still clung to her skin, the vibrator that poked out from her swollen pussy, the leather collar that branded her a whore. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, the reality of her degradation too much to bear. "What have you done?" he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Y/n leaned in close, his breath hot in her ear. "This is what I've made of her," he whispered, his voice a dark caress. "Your little whore, my little plaything." His hand trailed down her side, his fingers tracing the words he had etched onto her skin. "See how she's marked, Alex. She's mine now, in every way that counts."

Alex stared at her, his eyes filled with a mix of horror and anger. "Why?" he demanded, his voice shaking with emotion. "Why did you do this?"

Mina looked at her husband, the love of her life, and felt a fresh wave of guilt. "For us," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For our future."

Y/n laughed, a cruel, mocking sound that echoed through the quiet suburban street. "Don't be so dramatic," he said, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "It's just a bit of fun, isn't it, Mina?"

Alex's hand clenched into a fist, but he didn't move. He couldn't tear his gaze from the woman he once knew, the woman who now bore the marks of her submission to this monster. "Is that what you want?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Mina's eyes searched his, desperation in her gaze. "It's what we need," she replied, her voice firm despite the tremble in her chest.

Y/n's grip tightened, a silent warning. "Look at her, Alex," he said, his voice a purr. "Look at how she craves this. How she loves being my whore."

Alex's eyes fell to her body, to the words etched in black ink, the evidence of her submission. He felt his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat. "I can't," he murmured, his voice breaking. "I can't do this."

But Mina's gaze was unwavering. "You have to," she said, her voice steady. "For us."

The finality in her tone was like a slap. Alex knew he had no choice but to accept this new reality, to accept what she had become. And as Y/n led her into the house, his hand a brand on her arm, Alex followed, his heart heavy with despair.

The scene inside was one of quiet tension, the air thick with unspoken words and raw emotions. Mina's body was a canvas of Y/n's ownership, the words etched into her skin a stark reminder of her fate. Alex could only watch, tears streaming down his face, as Y/n proudly displayed her, his laughter a chilling soundtrack to their shattered marriage.

Y/n pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up the room. "Let's get a picture," he said, his voice full of amusement. "For the memories." He snapped a photo of Mina, the collar around her neck, the words "slut" and "Whore" clearly visible. Alex felt his world crumble around him, the reality of what she had become too much to bear.

Mina's eyes never left her husband's, her gaze filled with a mix of apology and defiance. She knew what this was doing to him, but she also knew that it was for their future. The pain of her submission was a price she was willing to pay.

As Y/n's laughter echoed through the house, Alex's mind raced. He had to find a way to save Mina, to save their marriage. But as he looked at her, the marks of her degradation stark against her skin, he wondered if it was already too late.

The tension grew palpable as Y/n's hand slid down Mina's body, his fingers lingering on her bruised skin. Alex's fists clenched, his anger boiling over. "Get out," he growled, his voice filled with a rage he had never felt before. "Get out of my house, and never come back."

Y/n's smile didn't falter. "As you wish," he said, his tone mocking. "But remember, she's still mine." He leaned in, his breath hot against Mina's ear. "And she always will be." With that, he disappeared into the night, leaving Alex to deal with the wreckage of their lives.

Mina looked at her husband, her heart breaking. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I'm so sorry."

Alex didn't respond, his eyes unable to meet hers. He couldn't process what he was feeling, the betrayal too deep to voice.

The silence was deafening as they stood there, the house a prison of pain and regret. They both knew their lives would never be the same again. The bond they had once shared had been irrevocably changed by the red room and the monster that owned her body.

And yet, as she saw the tears in her husband's eyes, Mina felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way back from this darkness. Maybe they could find a way to heal, to forgive, to move forward together.

But for now, she could only stand there, naked and trembling, her body a map of her submission, and wait for his next move. The future was uncertain, but she knew she had made her choice.

For better or worse, she was Y/n's whore, and she would do whatever it took to keep the man she loved.