#“you will take the life of your prey” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cutehoons02 · 2 days ago

Text

Run through my heart

*pairing: illegal racer driver Jungwon x good Girl

*trope: frat/bad boy x good girl

*synopsis: Jungwon at only 20 is in the top 5 of the state for being one of the drivers of illegal races all over Korea but what would happen when your best friend and Jungwon’s best friend’s girlfriend invited you to see an illegal race? Jungwon is totally the opposite of your ideal boyfriend but with his bad boy charm but also gentlamen vibes you will be able to not fall for his charm?

*tags: A lot of humor,fluffy,jungwon loves to flirt with girls especially with the protagonist, pervy Jungwon, both the protagonist and jungwon love to tease each other, masturbation (f. receives it in public) fingering, pussy drinking,unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)+18,pet names (good girl,princess) (wildcat)

(English is not my native language)

10.5k (🐈)

💌The request and ideas were written by @jayjw16enxp for this story (thanks a lot for your help)

The smell of burnt tires permeated the cold night air, mixing with the metallic scent of petrol. The headlights of the illuminated cars created light games that made the road look like a movie scene. You were standing next to your best friend, hands crossed on your chest in your padded leather jacket, You were grumpy since your best friend in the car had told you that for that night you would not go to Karaoke and eat fried chicken but to see Jay’s bff running and you had a skeptical look on cars in line.

"I don’t know why I came," you muttered, watching Jay waving animatedly with a group of guys near a black Nissan Skyline. "The underground races? Seriously? This is the height of your genius?" you told your best friend.

Your best friend laughed, settling down next to Jay. 'Come on, relax! It’s just a different evening, try to have some fun!, you’re here with Jay and me, nothing will happen to you, and in less than two hours you’ll be in your warm bed thinking about the adrenaline that you’ve experienced, trust me for once, Y/n'

"Having fun? Getting into trouble? Great idea. If someone from the press studio finds out my scholarship will disappear instantly, I’ll ask for financial damages to your boyfriend full of money." You shook your head, adjusting your hair behind an ear for the nervous. You were about to make more biting jokes when a soft, vaguely amusing voice interrupted his thoughts.

«You don’t seem like the type of place. Who did you take Jay to see an illegal race? The little mouse in the library?»

You snatched him up, and you saw him Jungwon. His eyes were sharp as razor blades, his smile bold and just curved his lips. He wore a leather jacket that reflected the lights of the headlights and leaned with ease to a shiny black car, probably his own a car that looked fast even when it was stationary.

You were caught off guard by her presence for a moment. "I am not," you replied, crossing your arms. "And apparently, you don’t seem like the type to... break the law either."

Jungwon laughed, a low and slightly dangerous sound. «It’s up to someone to add a little adrenaline to these monotonous lives, otherwise you know how boring life would be without a bit of a kick.» He pulled away from the car and approached you slowly, with the cat’s step of who knows exactly what effect it has. «And then, it is not so bad, right? Look at this crowd, the energy. Aren’t you a little curious to feel your blood pumping much stronger inside you especially your body to make you feel the sensation of adrenaline, of the anxiety and fear of being discovered in such a place where surely good girls like you should not be?»

"Not enough to put my life on the line for a four-wheeled ego race or to risk my money on a guy who’s gonna be even smaller than me," you said, clenching your lips.

Your words, however, did not shake him at all. He seemed to enjoy himself even more. He leaned slightly towards you, his eyes as bright as those of a cat having fun with its prey. «Interesting,» he said quietly. «Usually people either fear me or admire me. You, on the other hand... You’re a beautiful mystery, who would have thought that the good girl had such a sharp temper.»

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to be intimidated. "Maybe because I’m not interested in impressing a guy who thinks he’s a hero just 'cause he can drive fast'."

Jungwon stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, but the smile never left his face. «Touché. But don’t underestimate the speed. It’s a feeling that changes you and makes you feel alive. Maybe you should try it at least once.»

"It will never happen," you replied

«Never say» he muttered with a small smile before a voice called his name in the distance. He turned, gazing at the crowd, then looked back at you. «Hold on to your skepticism, 'good girl'. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll change your mind.»

And with that phrase and a smile full of arrogance, Jungwon walked away, leaving you with a mixture of irritation and something more difficult to define. Something that made you feel a shiver down your back, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

"God, it’s unbearable," you mumbled between your teeth as your best friend burst out laughing next to you.

'Unbearable, of course,' said your friend, giving you an elbow. 'But admit it, he has left you speechless. Both because he knows his stuff but also because he is crazy hot with that bad boy aura but at the same time with those cat eyes that look at you attentively as if you were his next prey'

You’re sunburned, your cheeks are starting to pinch. "Don’t even joke about it."

But in your stomach, a spark had been lit, and you weren’t sure that you could put it out so easily.

The roar of the engines was ringing in the air, covering up any conversation. You watched with wide eyes the cars lined up next to each other, ready to snatch like wild beasts. The headlights lit up the asphalt, and for a moment everything seemed to be still, as if night held its breath.

Jay was standing next to you, his arm resting protectively on your shoulders and his girlfriend’s. <<Relax,>> he said, a reassuring smile on his lips. <<It’s all under control. No one will touch you.>>

"I’m not worried about myself," you mumbled, even though it wasn’t entirely true. You felt like a fish out of water, but there was something in the atmosphere, the electric energy of the crowd, the roar of cars, the tension before the shot that made your heart beat a little faster. Maybe it was fear, or maybe... excitement...that was the feeling Jungwon described earlier?

The deafening music that had flooded the road until a few minutes earlier suddenly ceased, leaving only room for the roar of the engines. All eyes were on the racers. Cameras and phones stood up, ready to capture the start of the race. Jungwon was in the front row, his face calm and focused as he held the wheel.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. There was something hypnotic about him: that arrogant ease, the confidence in his movements. It was as if the adrenaline ran through his veins instead of blood. He didn’t even seem nervous.

<< So, what do you think? > asked Jay, lowering his voice so that only you could hear him.

"What?" you replied, trying to mask the disturbance.

<<About him. Jungwon. He’s good, isn’t he? >

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to look indifferent. "I don’t know yet. He has to prove it."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. <<You’ll see.>>

The air vibrated when the start signal blinked. The cars sprinted forward with a deafening roar, the tires leaving black tracks on the asphalt. You held your breath as you watched Jungwon take the lead immediately, zigzagging through the corners with impressive precision.

The track was an urban course, full of tight curves and straight lines that tested the skills of each driver. Jungwon steered with almost inhuman ease, cutting corners to the millimeter without ever losing speed.

<< Look how he enters the curve,>> said Jay enthusiastically. << No one drives like him. He is not afraid of anything.>>

You watched him, fascinated, the other cars tried to keep up with him, but nobody could keep up. It was as if the machine were an extension of his body, and he knew exactly how to push it to its limits without ever losing control.

After two laps, it was clear that he would win. No matter how much others tried to get over him, Jungwon was always one step ahead, calculating every move with surgical precision. When he crossed the finish line first, the crowd burst into a roar of exultation.

Jay clapped loudly, pulling you and his girlfriend into a hug. <<I told you!>> he exclaimed, laughing.

You were very quick. "He’s good, I admit. But he’s too young for all this. It’s ridiculous to think he could be so good, he just turned 20."

«It’s not ridiculous,» said a voice behind you.

You turned and there he was, Jungwon, still with his helmet in hand and the arrogant smile that lit up his face. He looked triumphant, but in his eyes, there was a challenge.

«I’m twenty, not ten», he continued, leaning nonchalantly against a parked car. «And it doesn’t matter how old you are when you’re the best.»

You crossed your arms and smiled shamelessly. "The best? In your head, maybe. People talk, you know? Not everyone is so convinced of your abilities."

Jungwon laughed a low and funny sound. «Let them talk. The numbers don’t lie, i'm in the top 5 of the state racers. And trust me, it wasn’t easy to get there.»

"If you say so," you replied, trying to ignore the shiver that had passed through your back as you looked into his eyes.

«You must not believe me,» he said, taking a step closer. «But sooner or later you will understand. Speed is not just about money or perfect cars, it’s about the heart.»

The evening seemed almost quiet. You were sitting on an old wooden stool, holding in your hands a mojito that was melting too fast. Your best friend, laughing next to you as Jay strutted in the distance, probably telling someone how good Jungwon was.

'It’s not so bad, isn’t it?' said your bf, giving you a slight push on the shoulder.

"It still doesn’t convince me," you replied, sipping your drink. "Too much confusion, too many people... Not my world."

Your bf laughed. 'I know, but sometimes you have to try new things. Maybe there’s something here that...'

The girl’s words were interrupted by a sudden and deafening noise. Screams, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of police sirens. The crowd exploded into a chaos of excited voices, bodies pushing and shoes pounding on the asphalt.

You got stuck, your heart was pounding. "What’s going on?"

'The cops, they’re here!' shouted someone, and the crowd began to scatter in all directions.

You looked around, lost, looking for your bff with your eyes, but before you could understand what to do you felt a strong hand holding your arm. You turned around and found Jungwon staring at you with a serious, almost impatient expression.

«You,» he said, bowing without waiting for an answer. «Come with me.»

"What-? Wait! No!" you tried to protest, but he didn’t give you the time. He dragged you through the crowd with fierce determination, dodging people and fallen bottles, to his car parked near the main road.

Jungwon opened the passenger door and almost pushed it in. «Get in.»

"I don’t even think so!"

The sirens came even closer, and you had no choice. You sat in the seat with your heart in your throat, slamming the door just as he was getting into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine.

«It’s written on your face that you’ve never been to such meetings,» he said as he set off. «Too scared to move.»

You stared at him. "I’m not scared!"

«Oh, you are,» he replied, and before you could fight back he put the gas on. The machine slammed forward at a speed that took your breath away. You clung to the seat, white knuckles, as the landscape began to flow at an impossible speed. The sirens were still behind you, but they got farther and farther away.

"You’re going too fast!" you shouted, trying to make yourself heard above the roar of the engine.

Jungwon did not answer, his face focused while he was dodging other cars and taking sharp turns without ever slowing down. His calm was frightening.

"I said slow down!" He turned his head slightly towards you, a funny smile that curved his lips. «What is it, speed scares you? I thought you were more brave.»

That was the drop of water. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him on the arm. "Slow down!"

Jungwon laughed, the sound was low and incredibly calm for the situation. «It doesn’t work like that, princess. With the police on your tail, you run or lose.»

You stared at him, furious and terrified at the same time. "You’re out of your mind!"

«Maybe» he replied, giving the pedal a further push. The car accelerated even more, and you felt your heart go up in your throat.

«Tell me where you live,» said Jungwon, suddenly serious.

You exhibited, still tight to the seat. "Why?"

«Because if you don’t tell me, I don’t know where to leave you. Unless you want to stay with me all night.»

Your cheeks burned. "You’re an idiot."

«I take it as a compliment.»

With an exasperated sigh, you gave him the address. He nodded, turned the wheel with impeccable accuracy, and put a side road in.

The speed was only slightly slower, but not fast enough to feel the ground under your feet.

When it finally arrived in front of your palace, your heart was still beating like a drum.

He stopped the car, putting an arm on the steering wheel as he looked at you. «All together, see? It wasn’t so bad.»

You struck him with your eyes, but you did not answer. You opened the door and came down, almost stumbling as your legs trembled.

«Good night, princess», said Jungwon with a smile as he looked at you.

"Good night a horn," you mumbled, slamming the door. But as you ran home, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, despite everything, a part of you had felt that adrenaline... and you almost liked it.

The atmosphere at the university was unbearable. Every conversation seemed to revolve around Jungwon: the young prodigy, the boy who had rushed like lightning in the last run and left everyone speechless.

You sighed every time you heard his name. It was everywhere. In the boys' talks, in the girls' whispers. Even the professors seemed to mention with a veiled interest "that young pilot of whom everyone is talking".

But to you, Jungwon was just an arrogant boy with a passion for risk and a smile that irritated you more than it was allowed. Yet, there was something you couldn’t get out of your head: the night of the escape. The speed, the shiver, the way you felt alive... and vulnerable. It was a feeling you hated and, in part, wanted to forget.

One afternoon, as you were desperately trying to ignore the avalanche of messages in the groups on Jungwon, your bff approached your desk with a complicit smile and a colorful poster in hand.

'Look here,' she said, waving the paper before you.

You looked up from the book. "What is it?"

'One race,' he replied enthusiastically. 'But not a big one. It’s a training for the top 5, a private event. Only a few can attend.'

"So why show it to me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Cause I want to go there,' she replied with a smirk. 'And I thought you could come along. You know, as my partner in crime.'

"Not even in my dreams," you cut short, back to the book.

'Really?' sat down next to you, lowering his voice in a provocative tone. 'Are you sure? Maybe you can take the opportunity to thank that guy who saved you last night.'

You were blocked. Those words hit a nerve. You promised to thank him, despite everything. After that night you didn’t see each other anymore, and not that you cared particularly... or maybe yes?

"I’m thinking about it," you murmured at the end, leaving your satisfied bff in her place.

Two days later, you were exactly where you swore you would never be: a private track just outside the city, surrounded by a select few spectators. There was no crowd or chaos, only the roar of cars preparing to go down the track.

Despite initial reluctance, you could not deny that the atmosphere was fascinating. The shiny asphalt in the sun, the smell of burnt rubber, and the electricity in the air. It was all so... different.

You settled next to your best friend, who chatted animately with Jay. But your eyes were immediately caught by a figure in the distance: Jungwon.

He was there, with his pilot’s suit half open on the chest, helmet under his arm, and that cheeky smile printed on his face. He was laughing with a group of girls who seemed to be hanging on his lips.

You were staring at him, unable to look away. It was impossible to deny: he was beautiful. Perhaps too beautiful. His cat eyes shone with a light that seemed magnetic, and the dark and slightly ruffled hair fell perfectly on his face as if they had been designed for him.

And that suit... God.

"Oh, no," you muttered, looking away. You couldn’t, you didn’t have to admit it was nice. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even your type.

'Are you all right?' she asked, giving yourself a curious look.

"Yes," you answered, clenching your fists. "It’s all right."

But as Jungwon put on his helmet with a fluid gesture and approached his car, you noticed that your heart was beating faster. And it wasn’t the noise of the engines.

Coming fourth wasn’t exactly the result he wanted, especially considering he had raced against Heeseung and Sunghoon, two legends in the underground races. He had given everything, but against them, it was like fighting a storm.

As he stepped out of the car and took off his helmet, his gaze wandered through the small crowd of selected spectators. He looked for Jay, knowing that he would be somewhere with his girlfriend.

When he found it, however, Jungwon was stuck for a moment. Next to Jay was she: the good girl.

She was still, her arms crossed and the expression swaying between embarrassment and a strange determination. Although the light of sunset played with his features, giving his figure an almost ethereal aura, it was evident that he was not at ease in that environment.

Jungwon approached, his disappointment for fourth place temporarily forgotten. Curiosity shone in his feline eyes. «Wow, who sees again,» he said, a sneering smile that curled his lips.

You looked at him with your usual exasperated expression, but with a slight blush that colored your cheeks. "Hi, Jungwon."

«I didn’t think these places were your kind» he continued, slightly bowing his head. «Have you decided to add a little adrenaline to your monotonous life?»

Roll your eyes, ignoring the provocation. "I’m not here to have fun."

«Oh, then why are you here?»

Take a deep breath, determined to say what you had to. "I’m here to thank you."

Jungwon stared at you, surprised. «Thank me? For what?»

"For having me... Saved, if you may say so, the other night," I replied, looking down for a moment before raising it to meet his eyes.

For a moment he laughed, shaking his head slightly.

«Saved, eh?» she said, approaching by a step. «I would say that I have only given you a moving passage.»

"Call it what you will," you replied, trying to keep your cool. "But still... thank you."

Jungwon stopped laughing and stared at you, his eyes twinkling like something that looked like a challenge.

«And what do you think I want in return?» he asked, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

You looked at him, confused. "In return?"

He leaned slightly towards you, his face so close that you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. Then, with a whisper that made your blood freeze in the veins, he said: «A kiss.»

Your eyes widened. "You’re kidding, right?"

Jungwon straightened, smiling with the same arrogance as ever. «I never joke, princess.»

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. Finally, he crossed his arms and raised his chin in defiance. "Then you will be left without thanks."

He laughed as if his answer amused him even more. «We will see» and walked away with a sure pace, leaving you there with your heart still beating wildly.

It was a quiet evening, of those you preferred. Your best friend had gone out with Jay, and for once the apartment seemed to be in a pleasant silence. You were sitting on the couch with a cup of hot tea and a book, finally free to enjoy some peace.

But that peace broke suddenly when the intercom rang, making you jump. You were not expecting anyone. You did a little bit of showing, but then you went and checked the screen.

Your breath was blocked. On the monitor was Jungwon, hands in his pockets and that relaxed expression that seemed to say "I’m always in the right place at the right time."

"What’s he doing here?" you murmured, nervously tightening the oversized pajamas you wore. He put his hand on your mouth, trying to collect your thoughts.

Despite everything, you opened.

Jungwon’s steps rang up the stairs, and before you could get ready, he was standing at the door, tall, confident, and with a slight smile on his face.

«Hello, princess,» he said, leaning on the door frame.

You looked at him, confused and with a mixture of irritation and nervousness. "What are you doing here?"

He did not answer. He entered without being invited, taking off his shoes naturally as if he were at home.

"what.." you stopped when you saw him walking around the apartment, observing everything with curiosity.

«Nice place,» said Jungwon, passing a hand on the kitchen cabinet and then taking a look at the sofa. He moved with the grace of a cat, calmly exploring every corner.

"You can’t come in like that," you protested.

«Why not? » he answered, turning to look at you. «I’m doing nothing wrong.»

You crossed your arms, trying to keep calm. "You still avoided the main question: what are you doing here?"

Jungwon came a few steps closer, reducing the distance between you. His gaze was piercing, and the sneering smile had never left his face. «I have come to take my thanks.»

The heart missed a stroke. "What?"

«I told you, didn’t I? I don’t leave anything halfway.» He leaned slightly toward you. «And I don’t accept excuses.»

You roast, feeling completely overwhelmed by his presence. You tried to appeal to your rational side, but couldn’t find the right words. "I... I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I owe you nothing."

Jungwon tilted his head as if he was weighing up his words. Then he laughed softly, a low, warm sound that made her shiver. «You’re always so sweet, aren’t you? And scared.»

"I am not afraid," you protested.

«Oh, yes you are,» he replied, getting even closer. His eyes shone with malice, but there was something else too, something deeper that you could not decipher.

I stepped back, but you found yourself with your back against the kitchen table. You were trapped, and Jungwon seemed to know it.

«So?» he asked you, with a smile that seemed like a challenge. «What about my thanks?»

You looked down, your face was red. "I don’t know what you want from me..."

Jungwon laughed again, this time more softly. He raised his hand and pulled a lock of hair from your face. His touch was light, but enough to hold your breath.

«All right,» he said, in a strangely gentle tone. "Perhaps I’ll let you choose how you want to thank me. But remember, princess, I never forget.»

With those words, he finally left and returned to snooping.

Jungwon was still looking around, moving like a curious cat, when his gaze fell on the couch. Without thinking too much, he dropped with a soft thud, stretching as if he were the master of the house. «Nice and comfortable here," he commented nonchalantly.

You were staring at him with your arms crossed, trying to keep a serious tone. "I didn’t invite you to get comfortable, you know."

He ignored you as his eyes were set on a book left on the pillow next to him. With disarming speed, he grabbed it.

«Let’s see what our princess reads,» he said, flipping through the pages.

"No! Give it back!" you exclaimed, approaching quickly.

But it was too late. Jungwon read aloud one of the most sappy passages in the book, imitating an overly sweet voice. "And he stared at her intensely, unable to resist the temptation to kiss her..."

You suddenly blush, embarrassed. "Stop it, give me back now!"

Jungwon burst out laughing.

«I never thought you were a fan of romantic novels. Aren’t you the one with the study books?»

You came to grab the book, but he pushed it away, holding it high above his head. "Jungwon, I told you to give it back!"

In an attempt to catch him, you swerved, falling on him on the couch. Both of you ended up lying down, you on top of him, the forgotten book on the ground.

For a moment everything seemed to stop. You looked up and met his feline eyes, so close that he could see every detail of their depth.

With a slow gesture, he raised his hand and stroked your cheek, the thumb that touched your skin with disarming delicacy. «Soft,» he murmured, almost in silence, as if he was making an incredible discovery.

Your heart was beating fast, and your face turned even more red. "J-Jungwon..."

He slightly tilted his head, his gaze curious and fascinated. Then, with a speed that caught you by surprise, he made you a slight tickle on your hips, making you burst into an involuntary laugh.

"Hey!" you protested in laughter, trying to move, but Jungwon kept teasing you with that funny smile.

«I like your laugh», he said, stopping at last. His voice was warm and low, and for a moment the atmosphere among you changed.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon leaned slightly towards you, his feline movements controlled. Then, with a confidence that seemed to leave no room for doubt, he laid his lips on yours.

The kiss was soft, but firm. There was no hurry, just a gesture full of respect and curiosity. You felt his big hands leaning around your back to hold you closer to him and with a sigh you let his tongue enter your mouth; It was the best kiss you had ever had and Jungwon looked so good at everything he did and you felt the heat of the contact immediately that broke down all resistance.

When you left, Jungwon smiled at you, his eyes shining with something you still couldn’t define. «Now I can consider myself thanked,» he muttered, the mischievous tone but strangely sweet.

Jungwon looked at you with a smile that mixed mischievousness and tenderness. «You know, I must admit,» he said in that witty tone that you now knew well, «you’re quite good at kissing, princess.»

You opened your eyes wide, the redness immediately rising to your cheeks. "Jungwon!" you protested, lightly hitting him on the shoulder.

He laughed, the low and relaxed sound that always seemed to make fun of you, but in a surprisingly affectionate way. Before he could fight back, he wrapped an arm around your waist and gently pulled you to himself, causing your head to rest on his neck.

«Then relax,» he muttered, as he slowly stroked your back.

Part of you couldn’t help but wonder: How can I feel safe with him? Jungwon was everything that represented chaos, risk, and defying the rules. Yet there, in his arms, was a calm you could not explain.

«Do you feel safe?» he asked you as if he had read your mind.

You did not answer immediately, clenching your fingers against the fabric of his shirt. At the end, you whisper, with a thread of voice: "It makes no sense, but yes."

Jungwon smiled, and his warm breath tickled your hair. «Maybe because I’m less dangerous than you think.»

Before you could answer, Jungwon moved slightly, breaking contact. He stood up, stretching with a grace that seemed almost feline. «But now I must go.»

You looked at him, still sitting on the sofa. "Doing... illegal things?" you asked, your voice a little jokey but also a bit serious.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. «In a way yes. I have to do something very illegal for the human being, imposed from above.»

You stared at him, confused. "What?"

«Study», he replied with a sly smile.

You blinked, incredulous. "Study?"

Jungwon nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. «Right. You don’t seem convinced.»

"I’m not," you admitted. "You... study? Really?"

«Of course. I study law.»

His words left you breathless. "Law?" you repeated, incredulous. "You? The boy who runs illegally and seems to ignore every rule... Do you study law?"

Jungwon laughed again, amused by his reaction. «I know, I know. It seems a contradiction, doesn’t it? But what can I do? I have a passion for rules. Only I prefer to decide when and how to follow them.»

You stared at him, trying to process that new information. "You are... a living contradiction."

«Interesting,» he smiled maliciously at you. Then, he slightly bowed his head. «And you are adorable when you are confused. See you, princess.»

And with those words, he left, leaving you sitting on the sofa staring at the door. And you thought that Jungwon was a riddle that you didn’t know how to solve yet.

After days of life seemed back to normal, you were immersed in your journalism studies, trying to forget the chaos that Jungwon had brought into your life. You were focused, determined to keep your head on her future, away from distractions.

But when your colleague at the university newspaper asked you to write a piece about clandestine racing, you suddenly found yourself back in the center of that world from which you had tried to get away.

'Are you sure you want to do it?' asked the colleague. 'It doesn’t seem like your environment.'

You raised your chin, determined. "I can do it. I’ll go with my best friend, no problem."

And so, that Saturday night, you found yourself again immersed in the racket noise. The pre-race was a chaotic party: deafening music, neon lights that illuminated the improvised track, people laughing and drinking everywhere. Your best friend, she seemed perfectly comfortable, but you don't.

Despite everything, you took your notebook and you started working. You had to do a detailed report, so you started to observe the machines and transcribe nicknames, technical notes, and the general atmosphere.

"The Panther" had a black and shiny livery, and "The Eagle" a silver car that seemed to slip in the air. Each pilot had a nickname, an identity that made them bigger than life.

But when your gaze was set on a machine unmistakable, your heart stopped. It was there, in all its glory: the hood painted with shiny stripes that reminded of claw scratches, and the name he had already heard whispered by Jay: The Wildcat.

Next to the car was him. Jungwon.

Your heart sped up when you saw it. Lying nonchalantly beside the car, he wore a dark leather jacket left unlaced, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt that highlighted his dry physique. The messy hair looked even softer in the neon light, and the cat eyes shone with a mix of challenge and fun. He was not alone. Three, maybe four girls were standing near him, laughing and flirting openly. One of them had put a hand on his arm, and he didn’t seem at all annoyed.

The pen you held in your hand stopped. You felt a wave of conflicting emotions: annoyance, jealousy, irritation, and that bit of insecurity that you could never get away from when it came to confronting other girls.

'Are you all right?' asked your bff, noticing your sudden silence.

"Yes," lying, looking down, and pretending to take notes in your notebook.

Jungwon seemed perfectly in his element. Every movement and every smile seemed to be designed to attract attention, and it worked perfectly. Everyone was watching him, and he knew it.

When one of the girls came closer to him, laughing and putting a hand on his chest, you felt yourself burning inside. You turned, pressing the notebook against your chest. It shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t.

But then, as if he had felt your gaze even amid the chaos, Jungwon looked up and saw you.

His smile stopped for a moment. The feline eyes were fixed on you, curious and perhaps surprised.

You held your breath, unable to look away.

Then, Jungwon’s smile returned, slower and deeper. She pulled away from the car and stepped over to you, the girls who were quietly protesting about the sudden lack of attention.

You were juggling between the machines, trying to ignore the knot of emotion that had formed in his stomach after seeing Jungwon. You kept taking notes in his notebook, writing down details about the race, the drivers, the nicknames... but your heart could not calm down.

You were focused on describing a car with a fiery red livery when suddenly you heard a hand grab your notebook. You slammed your eyes and you saw it.

Jungwon was there, a few steps away from you, with that cat-like look in his eyes that seemed to be light inside. His eyes shone with mischief and amusement, and his lips curled in a sneering smile. «Hey, princess,» he said goodbye, holding the notebook carelessly in her hand. «I missed something or are you trying to write a book about us?»

"Give it back, Jungwon. I’m working."

He slightly tilted his head, studying it. «Working, eh? You didn’t find a minute to come and say hello? All the other girls did it.» His voice was a mixture of provocation and challenge.

You’re sticking your jaw, trying to keep calm. "I didn’t come here to make friends, Jungwon. I have other things to do."

Your words made him smile. He leaned slightly towards you, your eyes straight in his. «Let me guess... Are you jealous?»

You blinked, surprised by her question. Then you sat down, raising your chin with determination. "Not. Why should I be jealous?"

Jungwon stared at you for a moment, his smile widening as if he were having a great time. «I don’t know, but usually the girls who look at me like that have something to say.»

You get stiff, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer. "I wasn’t looking at you in any way. I have other things to think about."

He laughed softly, a sound that seemed to wrap her like a caress. «Sure, princess. As you wish.»

You ripped the notebook out of his hands. "Stop calling me that. And let me do my job."

Jungwon pulled back, raising his hands in surrender, but his smile did not fade. «All right, all right. But don’t take it too hard. You know where to find me if you change your mind.»

And with a last look that seemed to promise trouble, he turned around and returned to his car.

The race was a whirlwind of emotions. You were with Jay and your bff, watching the chaos of cars sprinting under the spotlight. The engines were roaring, and the adrenaline felt palpable in the air. Jungwon was third, fighting ferociously to reach the podium and win that prize which meant more than just money.

You couldn’t deny that she was nervous. Every tight turn, every overtake, every calculated risk made her hold her breath. The gaze was instinctively set on Jungwon’s car, recognizable by its aggressive stripes and proudly painted number.

But then it happened.

The Panther made an illegal move. A sharp cut to the trajectory, too close to be a simple mistake. Jungwon’s car skidded, losing control, and went off the track with an impact that made the silence in the air resound. No one laughed, no one spoke.

"Damn it!" cursed Jay, sprinting into the pit area to see what had happened to Jungwon. You looked for Jungwon, but he was as if disappeared, swallowed up by the darkness of the track. The crowd around you had already started to celebrate, shouting for Heeseung, Sunghoon, and the Panther’s victory as the spotlight turned on the winners.

You were lost. You couldn’t think of anything but the car that was off the track and the guy driving it. Where was Jungwon? Was he all right?

"Hey," a deep voice brought you back to reality.

You turned around and saw a boy coming towards you. It was the pilot of the Panther, the one who caused the accident.

"What is a pretty girl doing here with a notebook in her hand?" he asked, looking at you with interest.

"I’m working," you replied coldly, holding the notebook to my chest. "I’m a journalist, I have to write about the race."

He laughed, a sound that had nothing genuine. "A journalist, eh? Well, maybe you could write a piece about me. You know, I’m the star of the night."

You stared at it, the obvious annoyance on your face. "I don’t think I’ll write about who plays dirty to win."

The boy’s smile cracked slightly, but before he could answer, a movement behind him caught both of their attention.

«I don’t think he wants to write about you,» said a familiar, low, and tense voice.

Jungwon was there. Hair sprawled, a small wound on the eyebrow that bled slightly, and an expression that promised trouble.

The Panther’s pilot smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Oh, there it is. I thought you were still licking your off-piste wounds."

He didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Jungwon advanced with a lightning move and punched him straight in the face. The boy staggered back, a hand to his nose.

«If you want to win, do it playing clean» growled Jungwon, his voice low but full of anger.

Stood still, my heart beating like a bat. You had never seen Jungwon so full of fury and determination.

He turned to you, his feline eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you hold your breath.

«Is everything okay?» he asked you, his voice suddenly quieter.

You are slow and unable to formulate a response. He watched you for a moment longer, then turned to the pilot of the Panther, who was still recovering.

«Never come near her again,» said Jungwon, his voice dangerously low. And with those words, he took your hand and led you away from the crowd, leaving chaos behind.

You found yourself catapulted into the car of Jungwon, almost without realizing how it happened. He was furious, his face tense and his cat eyes shone with a disturbing intensity. His hands held the steering wheel tightly, and the silence in the car was broken only by the soft hum of the engine.

You look around nervously, trying to figure out where you are going. You did not dare to speak, but you could not ignore the charged energy that was breathed into the air.

In the end, Jungwon stopped in a poorly lit parking lot, away from the chaos of the race and the festivities. He turned off the engine but said nothing for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair, visibly irritated, and then turned to you, approaching dangerously.

«What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?» he growled, his voice low but full of anger.

You stared at him, confused and slightly intimidated. "I... was working. I just asked questions and took notes for the piece I have to write."

Jungwon came even closer, his eyes peering at you. «Working? With that ridiculous little skirt and the top that leaves everything in sight? Where is the good girl I kissed the other day?»

You looked at him, surprised and irritated by her reaction. "Sorry?! What’s the matter, Jungwon? It’s not your concern what I’m wearing. And, for your information, I’m still the same person, even if I don’t dress like a nun to come to these stupid races!"

He raised an eyebrow, the sneer smile returning to his face. «Ah, so now you like to be a rebel? Interesting.»

"It’s not about rebellion!" you broke off with your arms crossed. "And stop judging me. It’s you who runs illegally, not me."

For a moment, Jungwon stared at you in silence, then his smile went out, and his gaze became more serious. «I don’t want you to get into trouble. Not with people like that, and certainly not in a place like this."

You were silent, struck by the sincerity in her voice, but you didn’t want to give it up. "I’m not a child, Jungwon. I can take care of myself."

Now your faces were a few inches apart. «You don’t understand, do you? It’s not just about looking after yourself. I can’t stand the idea that someone else could even look at you like that guy did.»

You suddenly felt confused and vulnerable under his intense gaze. "Jungwon..."

But he didn’t give you the time. With a strong gesture, he took you by the face and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with overwhelming confidence, but not without sweetness. It was a kiss that spoke of unresolved emotions, confusion, and desire.

You stood still for a moment, but then you let go, returning the kiss. You didn’t know what that meant, but at the time, in his arms, you felt inexplicably safe, even though Jungwon represented everything he had to avoid.

The anger, tension, and that strange, irresistible attraction that Jungwon seemed to be kindling in you all exploded at once. You grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing him again with more passion, as if you wanted to make him understand once and for all how confused she was, but also how lost you were for him.

Your hands trembled as they sat on Jungwon’s sculpted chest. You felt the muscles twitch under your fingers as if he was struggling to keep control. The heat emanating seemed to burn her skin, but she did not want to stop.

Between one kiss and the next, he pulled away slightly, his lips still dangerously close to hers. «Wait,» he muttered, with a smile that seemed to hide a thousand secrets. «Move slightly from the seat.»

You looked at him, confused, as he moved swiftly into the passenger seat. She pointed with a sure nod to his lap. «Sit here.»

You stared at him with wide eyes, heart pounding in your chest. "Jungwon, we’re in public..."

He chuckled, the sound low and incredibly charming. «Nobody is watching us. And even if they did... who cares? Trust me.»

After a moment of hesitation, you moved in embarrassment, and you sat on his legs. Your arms instinctively clenched around Jungwon’s neck, as he laid his hands on his hips, holding you firmly against him.

«See?» he whispered, in a tone that had a disarmingly sweet sweetness. «There is nothing to be afraid of.»

He, on the other hand, seemed comfortable, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed a darker depth. His fingers began to trace little circles on your hips, and his smile became more intense.

«You’re so beautiful,» he said, his tone suddenly serious, as he stared at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in the world. «You don’t realize what you’re doing to me, do you?»

You shook your head slightly, unable to find the words.

He tilted his head, his gaze becoming darker but at the same time incredibly sweet.

«I don’t want anyone to look at you the way I do. Is that a problem?»

"Jungwon..." you mumbled, but he didn’t give her time to continue.

He drew his lips to your ear like a kitten huddled in its den, sank his face against his neck, inhaled your scent, squeezed you tighter, and began kissing you and making little pacifiers.

«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, as he heard how you tried to deny the moans of pleasure. «I love to see how you react to me, I bet no one has made you feel like this in your life, princess.»

This time she touched the edge of your lace panties slightly.

"Jungwon.... not here," You said as you felt his big fingers sear your panties.

Your words seemed to light something in Jungwon. His smile grew wider and more dangerous, and a bad boy’s flash lit up his face. «Oh, princess» he whispered, tilting his head slightly as his hands slid into her life. «I want everything of you... but I’m not sure I can wait.»

Before you could answer, his fingers moved with an exasperating slowness under your skirt, and he began to draw light circles as you felt that slowly you were already excited for him. You held your breath, feeling the heat that spread throughout your body.

Jungwon, amused by your reaction, drew little circles with his fingers, stroking the slightly moist fabric. «So wet»

You whispered in a tone that mixed sweetness and provocation. «Is this all for me?»

You nodded weakly with your face becoming increasingly red.

He came near your ear again, letting his warm breath caress her skin. «I would like to take everything of you now, but not in this car. Not like that. You deserve more.»

Despite his words, he did not stop at all. He started touching your pussy but a grin formed on his face and looked as if there was someone outside and with a strong movement touched the lever that was under the seat and lowered it. «Lie down Y/n, I will make you feel good while I kneel.» Jungwon laid you down in the seat and began to slide his hands on one of your legs, lifting it to leave a kiss trail up to your thigh, Stopping occasionally to admire your soft skin that was illuminated by the moon and the intense look you were throwing at him. «I promise you that I will make you feel so good, you can’t be touched by any boy from today»

He moved his head under the skirt took the piece of your panties between his teeth and slowly pulled it down, moaning audibly as he watched a series of excitement drip from your heart. His cock was already pulsing in his pants but today he just wanted to make you feel good, there would be other opportunities that he would be well.

You looked at him a lot embarrassed but also extremely excited when you saw him with your panties in your mouth and pulled his hair and carried him back down into your pussy.

"Jungwon, I’m... you can lick it pls» Jungwon started laughing and tricked his tongue on your inner thigh, capturing your excitement on his tongue. «Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Let me eat your pretty pussy» You slightly widened your thighs and moaned instantly when he licked and licked, without even thinking about it, before reaching his hand behind you with his arms stretched out to pull you closer, guiding your hips down with force "Jungwon," you panicked. Your brain got a little confused as it pushed your thighs away, then lifted them up and away so that you could bury your face deeper between them. «Look at you, you’re getting your pussy licked in the middle of nowhere by the only guy you find irritating»

Jungwon took a second to smile at you, stroking your slimy thigh with his cheek, and pressing a small lingering kiss on your warm skin. His tongue was hot and wet against your pussy, practically melting against your folds, making long and deliberate passes up to your clitoris before you concentrate on it and suck it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure.

Unable to hold your voice, you began to emit gasping and stuttering moans, unintentionally lifting yourself into his mouth as he licked and sucked your clitoris, feeling your cheeks burning more and more long he looked into your eyes.

"I am... oh my God, please" greedily caress your clitoris pulsing in quick and deliberate circles with the thumb, automatically bringing two fingers to your pussy, your greedy hole sucked them up to your knuckles, without hesitating to push them in and out of you. Once your legs hooked to her waist, she quickened and pumped the rhythm of her fingers, your moisture now so palpable that it was beginning to leak out of you.

«Come princess, only for the wildcat» you exhaled, licking your lips and savoring the remains of yourself on your tongue, Striking him in a way that made you fight the urge to let your eyes roll down to the bottom of your skull and come between his fingers and with a gesture he took her to his mouth and sucked her as if it were the best thing in this world.

Yes, he got up slightly and felt his cock and balls extremely tight and hard in the pants but it was worth it, he had just made the "good girl" come off the university and knew that she would think for not how long to this episode of him bowing to her to suck their pussy.

You had spent a few nights writing your piece, trying to maintain a balance between your natural contempt for the illegality and that subtle attraction for the adrenaline-fuelled world that you had discovered recently. In the end, you delivered your article to the local newspaper, knowing that it would create a sensation, especially among the pilots.

You described the atmosphere in vivid words, talking about the roar of engines, the smoke from tires on the asphalt, and people who seemed to live only for those moments.

Extract from the article:

"There is something irresistibly hypnotic about seeing those riders challenge everything and everyone, putting their lives on the edge of a razor for a ride of glory. But despite the obvious danger and illegality, I can not deny that I also felt the heartbeat accelerate, the shiver of every curve taken to the limit. It’s a world that makes you want more, even when you know you shouldn’t."

You also mentioned the most famous pilots, dedicating a part of his article to the young and mysterious Wildcat:

"Among the many, one stands out for his early talent and rebellious attitude: Wildcat. At just 20, he has shown a mastery of the steering wheel that defies logic. But it’s not just his ability that makes him interesting: there is an energy in him, an aura that makes him unmatched. Despite his age, he drives like he was born to do it, and there’s a dangerous confidence in his feline eyes that makes you wonder what lies behind that provocative smile. Who knows if, behind the bad boy mask, there is something more... is a bad boy as everyone says or is different with the people he loves?"

Jungwon, sitting on the couch at home, had read the article carefully. The newspaper folded on his knees, his eyes shone with a strange combination of annoyance and amusement.

'So he thinks I’m hiding something, eh?' he murmured to himself, "And it describes that adrenaline so well... Maybe she’s not so different from me after all.'

Then he stopped to read another part:

"It is clear that risk is an integral part of this world, but perhaps this is what makes it so irresistible. Once you enter, it’s hard to get out of it, especially when you meet people who seem made for living without rules. And although I do not share this lifestyle, I cannot deny that there is something fascinating about observing those who are not afraid to challenge any limit."

Jungwon laughed slowly, was it perhaps a hint of what happened in the car between the gold two the other day?

'Good girl, eh?' mumbled. 'You’re so convinced that you don’t want to be part of this world, but underneath I know you like it. And I’m the only one who can take you beyond that limit, Y/n

He decided that he could not let go of the matter. He had to see her, tease her personally, and above all make her understand that no one could talk about him in that way without suffering the consequences.

You had just come out of the shower and heard the bell ring. Your best friend was not in, and you were not expecting anyone. And on the screen of the video intercom was: Jungwon, with the folded newspaper in his hand and that dangerous smile you now recognized too well.

You opened the door, trying to keep calm. "What are you doing here?" You asked, crossing my arms.

Jungwon didn’t answer immediately, just entering with a disarming security. «So you wrote an article about the bad boys of the city Y/n? Pleased with the comments you received?» He said in a low, sharp voice, waving the newspaper before you.

"It’s just my job," you replied, trying to keep a professional tone.

Jungwon chuckled and slowly approached, leaning slightly towards you until your faces were a few inches away. «No one speaks of me in this way. Not even you.»

You instinctively backed away, but he followed you, the paper still in his hand, his eyes shining with an intensity that made her tremble. «Wildcat, eh? Feline eyes, dangerous smile... tell me, were you writing or fantasizing about me? what is it you missed already my touch?»

"Don’t get your head in the sand, Jungwon. I just brought the truth."

«Truth?» he repeated with a grin, getting even closer. «And what is the truth? That you like this world? That you like what I make you feel?»

You felt trapped, and your heart was beating too fast. "I... I don’t..."

Before you could finish the sentence, Jungwon dropped the newspaper on the counter and took you by the side, lifting you up easily and making you sit on the kitchen island. He stood between your legs, his eyes fixed on his.

«Spare me the apology,» you whispered, his voice full of desire and a touch of possession. «I know exactly what you’re trying to hide. It’s in your eyes every time you look at me.»

You tried to talk, but before you could say a word, Jungwon leaned over and kissed you with an overwhelming passion. His hands seized your hips with force, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to erase all distance.

The kiss was different from the previous ones: there was not only passion but also a kind of affirmation. He wanted you to know that you were his, that no one else could get close to you like he did. «Never again write about me in that way,» he whispered against her lips, her voice low and hoarse. «I don’t want anyone else to know how good I am at making you feel this way. This is just for us.»

Jungwon caressed your face sweetly, a striking contrast to his possessive grip on your hips.

You felt his fingers trace the skin of your hips under your shirt until it reached the breast that was completely uncovered because you had just washed, His fingers were slightly cold to contact your breast and Bud tickled you and made you slightly arch your back. «You are already so sensitive to me and i touched you only with a finger what will happen when you fuck princess?» Jungwon took off your shirt and started kissing you and tickling your breasts, your poor nipples were turgid and with one hand he held you still and with the other, he massaged you alternating to tighten your left breast. He sucked you as if he was obsessed with your breast but had other things for the head that he wanted to do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him and he with one hand ran through your leg from the knee to the inside of the thigh, making you lose breath, a smug smile took shape on his lips as he tilted his head watching your reaction as his fingers approached your core, the tips traced him around your pajamas shorts and groans at the touch of his fingers around your core still dressed.

"Jungwon...I need" Your hand moved to touch his cock through the pants of the suit, making him moan, pulled down your pajama shorts, and when he saw that you already had your panties slightly wet a grin set up on his face, «God, already so fucking wet for me» and you kept massaging his cock, and I also took him off in his pants and made him spread a little 'the stain of the pre-ejaculate in his boxer shorts.

He took you in his arms as you kissed and kissed, and brought you to your room and laid you gently by the edge of your bed, you were perfect for him, It was months that he dreamed of fucking you and having you all to himself and finally came the time to see that the good girl who everyone loved at university was not so much a good girl when she was with him. He quickly removed your panties and his fingers finally touched your clitoris, winding around the bundle of nerves, throwing it every time you moved your hips trying to get more friction; «look at you, you are already so eager to have my fingers around you, where has the good girl gone?» You groaned and tried to move easily but Jungwon as usual was teasing you.

"Jungwon, stop being like that. We both know that underneath you were pleased with that article" Jungwon looked at you with serious eyes and without saying anything two fingers entered your already sensitive core, making you shudder.

“Fuck, oh yeah!" Jungwon started pumping your fingers slowly though and you moved so much that you accidentally touched his cock in his boxer shorts with one hand he held you tight and with the other, he touched you but Jungwon had other plans with you.

«The other day in the car I made you come, now it’s your turn to show me what you can do, I really want to see if the good girls can be good with dicks» You looked at Jungwon slightly embarrassed and opened your mouth to the surprise of his words.

Choking a groan as his fingers curled inside you again. Your hands moved quickly to lower his boxer shorts, releasing his huge cock, making you open wide eyes but your mouth was even more flooding with desire for him.

Your hand quickly distributed the pre-seminal liquid, and your thumb gently moved it while you watched his reaction, smiling at seeing that you were making him enjoy only with his cock in hand, whimpering as he added a third finger, By widening even more. Your pussy was already sore and super sensitive by the overstimulation of his fingers and you kept on teasing their cock and sucking it "Jugwon, please" the guy in front of you laughed slowly and he also mooed something incomprehensible

and said: «What do you want, use that beautiful mouth you love to tease people to tell me what my princess wants» moaning loudly when he pumped all three fingers around your pussy it was beautiful but you wanted more.

"I want...I want you, pls" When he heard those words he let out his fingers and spread your legs and your pussy was super shiny, stimulated, and ready to take his dick. His tip only went in a little to drive you crazy, but there was not much you could do while he held your legs apart and on the edge of the bed. Your hands went into his hair, pulling it slightly as you watched Jungwon’s cock disappear inside your pussy, slowly driving you crazy.

It didn’t matter if you begged him he would take it his way, he quickly pulled out all his cock before you could even get used to it if he was back in full again, and repeated it a couple more times before his hand that had been on his member before, It would move on your clitoris making circular movements as it kept burying itself deep inside you and pulling everything out. Moaning, invaded your room and you pulled him even closer to you with the other hand he stroked your cheek and put his thumb in your mouth, and sucked it slightly

«good girl» Nodded while you felt his cock now in your stomach clothing you and it was a wonderful feeling to see Jungwon so lost of you and inside you.

«Look at you, I want you to look at me and groan my name as I hear you hold me with that sweet little pussy of yours, yes?» You nodded and groaned as it hit the exact point of your G-spot and felt the overstimulation of his thumb touching your now swollen clitoris.

«Come for me, come around me, be a good girl, and come all over my dick.»

"Jungwon, please...oh fuck!"

Your high quickly found you while he kept jumping inside of you looking for his release, and you felt his seed and his cum inside you gushing out of your pussy after a while he got rid of his cock around you and gave you little kisses in your neck and made you lie down in the bed and put on his shirt and went straight to get wet clothes to take off everything, the sticky sperm from your legs and after a little while he lay down next to you and hugged you and cuddled to you placing his head in your neck and leave you small kisses and light caresses.

«I hope it didn’t hurt, princess. I... I never felt these things for a girl and you» didn’t end up gently putting your lips on hers and he smiled at you.

"I have never had these feelings for anyone but Jungwon, i don't want this thing to be just for fun…”

Jungwon hugged you and held you close to him

«No, you have not for months now mine and you have not even realized it. This thing is not only for fun for me, I want to make it work because when I win I need my journalist of trust who describes me as his Wildcat!» You laughed and it was extremely true that you and Jungwon could not be so different but at the same time, you were complementary.

Comments and reblog are appreciated❤️

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mssishipi · 2 days ago

Text

THE PURGE SERIES #1: Kiss Me - enhypen! jay PAIRING:purger reader x privileged jay

SYNOPSIS: You hate the Purge. You hate the monster they create, the cruelty, and the way it's broken you down year after year. You hate the rich most of all—the people who don't have to fight to survive. People like Park Jongseong. And now, somehow, he's sitting next to you. The boy who's always smiling, always comfortable, as if the world hasn't burned down around him. The boy who lives in safety, behind barricades his father's company builds, while you've spent years starving, hiding, and praying. Jongseong keeps smiling at you, oblivious to the weight of your hatred. He doesn't care about you, not really. To him, life is simple. And maybe that's why you can't stand him. Because while he laughs, you're trying to figure out how to make sure people like him never smile again.

warning: contains dark sensitive topics, mentions of murder, sexual assault, violence, and ptsd behavior, different perspectives of the purge, one sided hatred, reader is kinda difficult to handle but it's a trauma response, messy ending, jay is a supportive boyfie (in a good and bad ways), reader is unhinged, explicit content (3 diff scenes smut), fingering, nipple play, pussy eating, unprotected sex, doggy style, purge fucking, MDNI, reader discretion is advised

WC: 21.8K

You hate March 21. God, how you loathe it—the day that strips away any pretense of humanity.

It always starts the same way: the wailing sirens, cold and mechanical, ripping through the air.

Not even sixty seconds pass after the announcement before the streets erupt. Gunshots. Screams. The unmistakable, animalistic sounds of survival. The world falls apart faster than you can blink, faster than you can even take a breath. And every year, you sit in that darkness, trembling, hating.

You hate how they made this—how society carved out one single night to let its ugliest urges spill over.

You hate the twisted smiles on people's faces, the gleeful violence, the merciless slaughter. You hate everything about it.

You hate how weak you are. How poor you are. How your "barricade" is nothing but a creaky door and a pile of junk you've pushed in front of it. Heavy chairs, the couch, a dresser you could barely move—what is that supposed to do against the monsters outside?

They'll break through it in minutes, seconds even, if they choose you this year.

And there's nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

So you crawl inside the closet, knees tucked into your chest, hands pressing hard over your ears as the chaos outside creeps closer and closer. You rock back and forth, whispering to yourself, "Just twelve hours. You just have to survive twelve hours."

You hate how your morals hold you hostage.

You're too much of a coward, aren't you? Or maybe you're too human, too stupidly tied to the idea of right and wrong.

Either way, you've sentenced yourself to this endless nightmare.

You hate how they have no mercy. How people don't even hesitate.

The second those sirens stop, the masks go on, the knives come out, and the laughter—the laughter—starts echoing down the streets like some kind of hellish symphony.

You hate the way your mind races, picturing your own end over and over again. Would it be quick? A bullet to the head? Or would it be slow? Something worse?

You hate how poor you are. How people like you—people who can't afford high-tech barricades, bulletproof shelters, or private security.

You're the bottom rung of society, the lambs to the slaughter. And that's exactly how they see you. Nothing more than sport for the rich.

You've been their prey before—dragged into one of their "games." Their sick, twisted hunting expeditions where they wear masks and hunt you down like animals, laughing all the while.

Somehow, you survived that night. Somehow, you ran fast enough, hid well enough. But you didn't leave unscathed.

No, you left something behind that night: your sanity.

You can still feel their eyes on you, their jeers echoing in your ears, their mocking laughter as they cornered you over and over, just to let you escape so the game could continue.

You see their faces—those masks—every time you close your eyes.

And no matter where you go, it's always the same.

You transfer to a new town, a new neighborhood, hoping to disappear, but you always end up right back here.

They smile too wide, your neighbors. They're too friendly. Too eager to see you. And every time they stare at you, every time their grins linger a little too long, you feel the bile rise in your throat.

You hate everything about the Purge.

You hate the people who participate in it, the government that allows it, the sick, twisted minds that relish in it.

You hate the monsters you've seen outside, but you hate the monster you're becoming even more.

Because every year, it gets harder. Harder to keep your sanity intact. Harder to resist. Harder to keep your morals from shattering under the weight of it all. And every year, the hatred inside you grows like a poison, rotting you from the inside out.

You hate how you're always waiting. Waiting for another March 21.

Waiting for the next time you'll have to endure this torment. Waiting for the day you finally snap, when you stop running, when you stop hiding, and when you start fighting back.

You hate the waiting more than anything because you know that day is coming. You know it's only a matter of time before something inside you finally breaks.

And when it does, you'll hunt them down. Every last one of them. The rich who preyed on you. The neighbors who smiled too wide while undressing you. The government officials who allowed this nightmare to persist.

You hate March 21.

But more than that, you hate how much you're starting to look forward to it.

"I see you survived the Purge," you muttered, your eyes narrowing as they landed on the group of seven boys in the hallway.

They were laughing softly, their voices laced with relief as they exchanged hugs and pats on the back.

"Thank God," one of them said, gripping the others in a tight embrace, his shoulders sagging like he'd been holding his breath for the last twelve hours.

"I already told you guys," another voice chimed in—smooth, Park Jongseong. Of course.

"Next year, you should all come to our house. Our lockdown is solid. Our barricades are strong enough to keep anyone out. You'll be safe there, trust me."

You scoffed, the sound low and bitter, but loud enough to be heard if anyone was paying attention. Of course, they weren't. They never noticed you. Not people like them.

Park Jongseong— the golden boy. His father owned one of the biggest barricade companies in the country, making a fortune off other people's desperation and fear.

He didn't just survive the Purge; he thrived in it. His family's state-of-the-art lockdown system probably made their house into a fortress.

And now here he was, standing in the middle of the school hallway, flashing that perfect smile and talking about how his family had been "safe and sound" while people like you hid under a bed, praying not to die.

You bit the inside of your cheek, tasting blood, and turned away. Of course Jongseong had survived. People like him always did.

You were miserable. Miserable every single day for the past seven years since the Purge began.

Seven years since the night your parents were taken from you on that first Purge.

Seven years of surviving on your own, scrabbling through life like a rat in a never-ending maze.

An irregular college student balancing four jobs just to afford rent, tuition, and scraps of food that barely kept you standing.

And some nights, when you're too tired to even close your eyes, the same thought creeps in, like a whisper you can't shut out.

Why can't you just die already?

Was this what God wanted for you? Was your suffering some part of His great plan? If it was, you hated Him for it. You hated everything—for putting you here, for making you live like this, for keeping you alive while everyone else you cared about was gone.

Then came August. Seven months before the next Purge, You took your entire month's pay—every single cent you'd earned and bought a handgun from a retired Russian police man who didn't ask questions.

You didn't eat for weeks after that, barely managing to survive on water and scraps you could steal from work.

Hunger clawed at your stomach, but you didn't care. Every second of discomfort was worth it as you cradled the gun in your hands at night, running your fingers over the cold steel.

At college, exhaustion weighed on you like a heavy coat. Your mind was foggy, your body barely cooperating as you tried to focus in class. You were too tired to care about anything anymore. That's why, when you heard the voice, you didn't even look up at first.

"Hey, are you Y/N?"

You blinked, sluggishly dragging your tired eyes up to meet the man.

Park Jongseong. He was standing there, his usual easy smile on his face, holding a lab manual in one hand.

Your brows furrowed as he sat down next to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. You raised an eyebrow at him, watching in silent disbelief as he got comfortable.

"We're partners in laboratory," he announced with that same friendly grin, his tone light and conversational.

You stared at him, your eyebrow twitching slightly. Of course, we are. Just my fucking luck.

You hated him. You hated everything about him.

You hated how he could walk into a room and light it up, how he always smiled like life was some perfect little gift wrapped up in a bow.

You hated how easy everything seemed for him, how he floated through life without ever seeming to care about the world around him.

Jongseong keeps smiling at you, oblivious to the weight of your hatred. He doesn't care about you, not really. To him, life is simple. And maybe that's why you can't stand him.

Because while he laughs, you're trying to figure out how to make sure people like him never smile again.

"I'm Park Jongseong," he says brightly, "You can call me Jay, if you don't know me."

You stare at him with your tired eyes, barely masking your irritation. His enthusiasm is exhausting, like a candle burning too brightly, too close to your already frayed nerves.

But he doesn't seem to notice. Of course, he doesn't. He keeps talking.

"I'm planning to start our experimental research maybe in like three days? I don't really like cramming," Jay continues, flashing you another one of his easy smiles.

"Are you available on Saturday?" he asks, finally looking at you. "Do you want to do it at my place or yours?"

His smile falters for the first time when you just stare at him, bored and uninterested, like he's wasting your time—which he is.

He must be so used to people hanging on his every word, eating up his charm. You, on the other hand, are trying to figure out how long you have to tolerate him before he leaves.

"I have a morning shift at the ice cream shop. Probably the afternoon, but I'll leave at 7 PM," you reply flatly, spinning your pen lazily between your fingers. You're not trying to be rude.

You're just tired—tired of him, tired of everything. "Then I have another shift at the restaurant."

Jay nods, and for a moment, you think he's about to say something stupid, like you work too hard or you should take it easy. But he doesn't. Instead, he watches you for a second too long before his smile returns, a little dimmer than before.

"And your place," you add, cutting off whatever he was going to say. The idea of being in his house, surrounded by whatever rich-boy luxuries he has, makes your stomach churn.

Jay blinks, then nods again. "Alright, my place it is," he says, his tone softer, as if he's trying to figure you out.

You hate it—hate the way his gaze lingers on you.

You turn your attention back to your notebook, letting the silence hang between you until he finally shifts in his seat and looks away. At least he knows when to stop talking. For now.

You observe people every shift. At the ice cream shop, kids cry and tug at their parents, pointing at a flavor they desperately want. At the fast food chain, students laugh, stuffing fries into each other's mouths, their joy spilling out into the air.

You watch them. You clean up after them. And when no one's looking, you pick at their scraps—half-eaten burgers, fries left behind—anything to stave off the hunger that gnaws at you day and night.

When you sneak into the back to wash your hands, you catch your reflection in the grimy bathroom mirror. It almost shocks you, the hollow-cheeked girl staring back.

Your dark eye bags seem to sink into your face like bruises, your cheekbones sharp enough to look dangerous. Your lips are pale, chapped from thirst, and your hoodie swallows what little remains of you.

Even when you do sleep, it's never peaceful.

The nightmares always find you, pulling you back to that night—hands grabbing, voices laughing, the cold press of a mask against your skin.

Not even the sleeping pills you've wasted money on help anymore. You've tried. God knows you've tried. But the fear is something you can't escape.

And then Saturday comes.

Jay welcomes you at his house with his usual easy smile.

You stand awkwardly at the entrance, your eyes immediately drawn to the luxurious details surrounding you.

Expensive vases line the walls. A cabinet full of fine liquor gleams under the lights. Everything in the house feels deliberate, pristine, and just looking at it makes you feel like you don't belong.

"This way," Jay says cheerfully, leading you to his room.

The moment you step inside, you're greeted with more of the same—displays of wealth that feel almost obscene to you. A collection of guitars lined up like trophies. A cabinet stuffed with fancy perfumes. Everything here screams a life of comfort, of privilege, of a world you'll never touch.

"Are you always cold? Want me to lower the aircon?" Jay asks suddenly, his gaze flicking to your oversized hoodie.

You almost punch him for the question. The audacity of it.

Are rich people really this clueless?

The irritation bubbles up. You almost imagine your hands around his neck, squeezing some sense into him.

"No, thanks," you say curtly, not bothering to hide your annoyance. You drop to the floor, pulling out your notebook and pen, ignoring the uncomfortable tension forming between you.

"You can sit on my bed," Jay offers, reaching out to touch your arm like it's no big deal.

But the moment his hand brushes your sleeve, your mind snaps. You're not in his room anymore. You're back there—on that night—being grabbed, pulled, restrained. Masked faces loom in your vision, their laughter ringing in your ears like a sick melody.

Before you even realize it, you've slapped his hand away, standing so fast you almost knock your notebook over.

"I—I'm sorry," you stammer, your voice shaky as you rub your arm. Jay just stands there, his hand hovering in the air, confusion written all over his face.

"It's fine," he says quickly. His smile is gone now, replaced by something softer.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to sit down again—this time on the bed, even though you'd rather be anywhere else. You pull your notebook back into your lap, flipping it open as if nothing happened, your hands trembling slightly.

The two of you work in near silence, researching for your lab project. Jay tries to engage you now and then, asking for your thoughts, but you keep your answers brief. You don't want to talk. You don't want to share. You just want to get through this.

After a while, Jay breaks the silence again. "How many jobs do you have?" he asks, his voice almost hesitant. "How do you manage school and work?"

You huff, irritated by his questions. What does he know about working to survive? What does he know about balancing your life on a thread?

"I don't manage," you reply bluntly. "I'm already planning to stop after this semester."

Jay straightens in his seat, frowning slightly. "Why?"

"Because I can't afford it anymore," you snap, your patience wearing thin. Your voice is sharper than you intend, but you don't care. You glare at him, daring him to argue, to say something stupid like, You should keep trying.

But Jay just looks down, his gaze softening. "I'm sorry," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear.

Before you can respond, a knock interrupts the moment. A head peeks into the room—a woman with wavy hair and a face so similar to Jay's that it's clear she's his mother.

"Heard you had a classmate over," she says warmly. "Come down and eat."

Jay stands immediately, glancing at you as if waiting to see if you'll follow. You nod stiffly, clutching your notebook to your chest as you trail behind him, feeling awkward in a house like this.

When you reach the dining room, your stomach grumbles embarrassingly loud at the sight of the food. A table full of steaming dishes spreads out before you, prepared by maids who move around effortlessly. You've never seen this much food at once before, not even during the holidays.

"Come, sit, sweetheart," Jay's mom says, pulling a chair out for you. Her voice is so kind, so gentle, that it makes your chest ache.

You sit down slowly, staring at the food like it's a mirage. Jay's mom piles your plate high with food, her warm smile reminding you so much of your own mother that your throat tightens.

"Eat, don't be shy," she says, her voice light and encouraging.

Your hands shake as you pick up the spoon, the first bite warming your tongue.

The taste is overwhelming, rich and filling, and it's so good that tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

You quickly take another bite, and another, ignoring the lump in your throat.

Jay watches you quietly, his gaze flicking to your small, trembling hands. His eyes catch on the scars peeking out from your sleeves as your sweater rides up.

"So, where are you from? It's my first time seeing you here! Jay's always bringing friends over—so many faces!" His mother's voice was cheerful, her smile warm and inviting.

"I'm from Las Vegas," you replied, keeping your eyes on your empty plate. You didn't want to talk, but her energy made it hard to ignore her.

Your gaze shifted to Jay as he leaned over, silently placing more food onto your plate.

"Oh, Las Vegas!" His mom exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "What made you settle here in Seattle? Life is so exciting over there! So bright and lively!"

"Not really," you said, inhaling sharply as you tried to keep your tone even. The last thing you wanted was to go deeper into that conversation.

She didn't seem to notice your discomfort. "Oh, I see. Well, what do your parents do for a living?"

You froze. The fork in your hand stilled as memories rushed back like a tidal wave.

The screams. The blood. The way your parents looked at you, their faces twisted in pain as you hid, trembling in the cabinet.

"They're dead," you said bluntly, gripping your fork so tightly your knuckles turned white.

The room seemed to grow quieter. His mother's cheerful expression faltered. "Pardon?"

"They're de—" you started, but the words caught in your throat. Your pulse quickened, your chest tightening, and before you could finish, Jay cut in.

"It's already almost 7:00," he said quickly, "Didn't you say you have a shift?"

You looked at him, startled. His gaze met yours, and for the first time, his ever-present smile was gone. Instead, his eyes were steady, watching you carefully, like he knew you were unraveling and didn't want to make it worse.

You took the excuse without hesitation. "Yeah," you muttered, shoving your chair back as you stood. "I should go."

His mom looked like she wanted to say something, but Jay rose from his seat, cutting her off with a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll walk her out," he said softly.

"Thank you for the food, Mrs. Park," you smiled, trying to look natural, bowing at her. You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, refusing to look back at the table, at the food, at his mother's concerned face. Your throat burned as you fought the tears threatening to spill over.

Jay followed you silently as you stepped into the hallway. Once you were out of earshot, he finally spoke.

"You didn't have to answer her," he said gently.

You stopped in your tracks, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. "I didn't want to," you said flatly, your voice trembling just a little. "But people always ask. Like they have the right to know."

Jay didn't respond immediately. When you glanced at him, he looked... softer, his usual brightness dimmed with something quieter. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low and careful. "She didn't mean anything by it. My mom's just... the type to ask questions. She doesn't think it'll hurt anyone."

"Yeah, well, it does," you snapped, the words slipping out before you could stop yourself. Your voice was sharp, cutting through the quiet hallway. But Jay didn't flinch. He just nodded, that same calm expression on his face, like he understood.

And for some reason, that made you angrier.

Your bag strap digging into your shoulder as you stared at him. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward. Your chest burned with frustration, your hands curling into fists at your sides. You weren't sure what you were mad at—his mom's question, his calm demeanor, or the fact that he kept pretending to get you when he didn't.

The words tumbled out. "What are your thoughts about the Purge, Jay?"

Jay's eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden question. He hesitated for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like he was carefully picking his words.

"I—I don't agree with it," he said finally, his voice quiet..

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. "You don't agree with it?" you repeated, mocking his tone.

"That's rich. The Purge is the reason why you're making money, Jay. It's why your family's living in that giant house with your shiny vases and fancy barricades."

Jay blinked, visibly taken aback. "That's not fair," he said, his voice soft but firm.

"Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice rising.

"Your dad's company makes barricades, doesn't it? Every year, people like you get richer while people like me..." You trailed off, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You don't get to sit there and say you don't agree with it. Not when your family profits from it."

Jay's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable.

"And you know what's funny?" you continued, the bitterness spilling out of you now. "You probably spend Purge night in your fortress of a house, watching movies or playing board games with your family while the rest of us are out there dying. You don't even have to think about it, do you?"

"That's not true," Jay said quietly, his hands clenching at his sides. "I do think about it."

"Oh, do you?" you snapped, glaring at him. "What, do you spend a whole five minutes feeling bad for people like me before you go back to your perfect little life?"

"That's not what I—" Jay started, but you cut him off.

"You don't get it, Jay," you said, your voice trembling now, anger and exhaustion mixing into a volatile cocktail. "You'll never get it. You don't know what it's like to be hunted like an animal while people laugh. So don't stand there and tell me you 'don't agree with it,' because that doesn't mean anything coming from you."

Jay looked like he wanted to say something—his mouth opened, but no words came out. His shoulders slumped slightly, and for a moment, you thought you saw guilt flash across his face.

"I'm sorry," Jay said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze, your anger faltering for a moment as his words sunk in. Your chest tightened, and your eyes softened just slightly, guilt prickling at the edges of your mind. What were you even doing?

But the shame and bitterness were too much to face. You turned away quickly, your voice small and strained. "I'm sorry... I should go," you murmured, gripping the strap of your bag as you hurried to leave.

Jay didn't stop you. He just watched your retreating figure, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. As the door clicked shut behind you, he sat down heavily, running a hand through his hair. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how. And the way you looked at him, like he was the problem, made it feel impossible.

The weeks passed in a blur of survival and self-destruction. Bullets were fucking expensive. Even knives cost more than you expected, and every penny you earned disappeared the moment it hit your hands. Life was getting harder.

The monster inside you—was growing louder, feeding off your exhaustion and anger.

At night, when you weren't working, you trained yourself obsessively. Watching documentaries on how to kill someone. Studying anatomy. Practicing with your weapons until your hands were blistered and shaking.

You didn't care if your body couldn't take it anymore. Pain didn't matter. Hunger didn't matter. Nothing mattered except being ready.

But as the weeks dragged on, it became harder to keep going.

Your hoodie, the one you wore every day like a second skin, was filthy and smelled of sweat and exhaustion. Your body was sore in every possible way.

Your reflection in the mirror was worse than before—hollow eyes, sallow skin, dark circles so deep. And every time you saw yourself, you thought the same thing.

You just want to die already.

One night, your phone buzzed. It was a message from Jay.

"Y/N, I'm sorry to bother you, but you haven't been coming to class. I can handle most of the project on my own, but for this reporting, I really need your presence."

You stared at the message for a long time, debating whether to ignore it. But something in you caved. Maybe it was guilt. You replied: "Okay. I'll come."

Jay welcomed you into his house again, you ended up on his bed, laptop in your lap as you both worked on the PowerPoint for your report. The room was quiet except for the sound of typing, but every movement felt like a struggle. Your body ached. Your head throbbed. You could barely focus, and every second felt like a fight to stay upright.

It wasn't long before your body gave up.

The laptop slipped from your lap, crashing to the floor as your vision blurred. The last thing you heard before everything went dark was Jay's panicked voice calling your name.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a white ceiling.

The faint smell of alcohol and disinfectant filled the air, and the sharp tug of a needle in your arm made you realize you were hooked up to an IV. An oxygen tube rested under your nose, and your body felt impossibly heavy, as if all the exhaustion you'd been ignoring had finally caught up with you.

Your gaze drifted down to your body—and then you saw it.

You were wearing a hospital gown.

Panic gripped you instantly. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickening as your hands clawed at the fabric.

"No, no, no," you whispered, your voice trembling as your heart pounded in your ears.

Memories of hands grabbing at you, tearing at your clothes, flashed through your mind like lightning. You gasped for air, a faint scream slipping from your lips.

Jay jolted awake from the chair beside you, his eyes wide with alarm.

"W-what's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with panic. He moved closer, his hands hovering uncertainly like he wasn't sure if he should touch you.

"H-hoodie," you stammered, gripping his arm with weak, trembling hands. Your nails dug into his skin. "Need to cover. Ugly. Ugly."

Jay winced at the pain but didn't pull away. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he said gently, his voice calm and soothing. "You're okay. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."

"No," you whimpered, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. "I'm ugly. Don't look." Your hands fumbled to pull the gown tighter around you, but it didn't help. You could feel the scars beneath it—the raised lines.

Jay hesitated for a moment before slowly reaching out to cover your hands with his. His touch was warm, steady, and he squeezed your fingers just enough to ground you.

"You're not ugly," he said softly, his tone so sincere it made your chest ache.

You shook your head again, your voice breaking as panic surged through you. "You don't understand. You don't know what they did to me. What I look like—"

"Calm down," Jay interrupted, his voice steady but still gentle, as if he were trying to anchor you to the moment.

He closed his eyes and turned his head slightly to the side, a gesture meant to reassure you. "I'm not looking, okay? I'm not looking."

His words made you pause, your breathing still uneven but slowing just a little as you clung to his arm. The panic was still there, buzzing under your skin, but his calmness was starting to chip away at it, little by little.

"You're safe now," Jay said, his tone softer this time, "and you're not alone, okay? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Just calm down, breathe in, breathe out. You can do this."

You tried to follow his instructions, inhaling shakily and letting the air out in uneven bursts. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to keep you grounded, enough to stop the tears blurring your vision completely.

Jay's hand was warm against yours, his fingers gentle but firm as he held on. "What do you want me to get?" he asked softly, his voice careful, his head still turned slightly away so you wouldn't feel watched.

"My hoodie," you whispered, your voice weak and pleading. "I need it. Please."

Jay glanced at the IV in your arm, his lips pressing into a thin line. "You have an IV in your skin," he said quietly. "It's still not okay for you to wear your hoodie yet. If you pull at it, you could hurt yourself."

You looked away, shame and frustration boiling under your skin, your fingers gripping the hospital blanket tightly. "I don't care," you mumbled, your voice trembling.

Jay sighed softly, squeezing your hand again to ground you. "I know you don't feel comfortable," he said, his tone gentle but firm, "but if it's too hot or heavy right now, I don't want you to hurt yourself trying to put it on."

You clenched your jaw, swallowing back another wave of tears. "I just—I need to cover up," you said, your voice breaking again.

Jay hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said carefully, "if you're not comfortable in the gown, I can get you a long-sleeve nightgown instead. Something softer. Something that'll cover your arms. Is that what you want?"

You glanced at him, your lip trembling, and nodded weakly. "Yeah," you whispered, barely audible.

Jay gave your hand one last gentle squeeze before slowly standing up. "I'll go ask the nurses," he said softly.

Days had passed, and Jay had stayed by your side, refusing to leave, despite how much of a burden you felt like.

He wasn't overbearing or hovering—just quietly there, helping you in any way he could.

He brought you meals, water, even helped you comb through your disheveled hair when your strength failed you. He didn't ask questions about what happened, didn't demand explanations.

His mother visited often, sweeping into the room with an energy that made your chest ache. She came with baskets of fruit, flowers, and small gifts, her arms overflowing like she was trying to smother you with kindness.

On one visit, she hugged you tightly, tears in her eyes, and said, "You need to take better care of yourself, sweetheart. Your life is precious."

Her words pierced through you, bringing a lump to your throat. You didn't have the heart to respond, just nodded, even though deep down you still didn't believe her.

Jay's friends, Sunoo and Ni-ki, had even come to visit. Despite the fact that they didn't know you at all, they acted like you were an old friend.

They brought a snake and ladder board game, and before you knew it, they were sitting cross-legged on your hospital bed, loudly cheering, groaning, and playfully arguing over the dice rolls. Their laughter filled the room, echoing against the sterile walls and spilling over the edges of your heart.

At first, you just watched them silently, your hands resting in your lap, unsure of how to react. But as the game went on, you found yourself drawn in—your dead eyes softening as you watched them bicker like kids, a faint half-smile tugging at your lips.

For the first time in what felt like years, you felt something other than pain. Just a flicker, but it was there. A tiny seed of happiness.

"What do you want to eat today?" Jay asked, smiling as he sat at the edge of your bed, peeling an apple with practiced ease.

"I want rice cakes!" Ni-ki chimed in, raising his hand like an excited child.

Sunoo rolled his eyes dramatically, crossing his arms. "Yuck! We had rice cakes yesterday!"

Their back-and-forth made you chuckle softly, a sound you hadn't heard from yourself in a long time.

But later, when the room grew quiet again, and it was just you and Jay, that flicker of happiness gave way to something heavier. Guilt.

You glanced at Jay as he sat by the window, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. His face was relaxed, the sunlight catching the soft angles of his features. He had done so much for you—things he didn't have to do. And all this time, you had hated him.��Misunderstood him.

You had assumed the worst of him, just because he was rich.

You had lumped him in with the monsters who had ruined your life, convinced yourself that he was just another spoiled, privileged kid who wouldn't understand what suffering felt like. But the truth was... he wasn't.

He wasn't the people who had hunted you, mocked you, stripped you of your humanity. He wasn't the people who laughed behind masks, thriving on fear and violence.

Jay had done nothing but help you, even when you were rude to him, even when you pushed him away.

And yet, the guilt didn't erase your pain. It didn't undo your trauma or silence the nightmares that still haunted you.

You still hated the world that allowed the Purge to exist. You still hated the memories that burned like fire in your veins. You still hated yourself for being weak, for surviving when your parents hadn't.

But you didn't hate Jay anymore.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly, breaking the silence.

Jay looked up, tilting his head in confusion. "For what?"

"For... for how I treated you," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "For assuming things about you just because of where you come from. I thought you wouldn't care. That you couldn't understand. But... you're not like them."

Jay's expression softened, a small, almost sad smile tugging at his lips. "You don't have to apologize for that," he said gently. "You've been through hell. I get why you'd feel that way."

You shook your head, gripping the blanket tightly in your hands. "No, you don't get it. I was cruel to you. I blamed you for things that weren't your fault."

Jay was quiet for a moment, then reached out, resting a hand over yours.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding. "I'm not perfect," he said softly, his tone sincere. "I won't pretend to know what you've been through. But I want to help."

Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill over again. You didn't know how to respond, so you just nodded, gripping his hand. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to trust someone. Even if it was just a little.

"The doctor said you have anemia and osteoporosis," Jay's mother said gently, setting her bag down on the small table beside your hospital bed.

"That's why your bones are weak! You'll need to eat more foods with calcium and iron to build your strength and get your blood count higher. We'll make sure you have everything you need."

You stared at her, unsure how to respond. Guilt curled in your stomach, gnawing at you. You weren't her child. You weren't even close to being part of her world. And yet, here she was, treating you so good.

"The hospital bill is covered," she continued, her voice casual, like it wasn't a big deal. But to you, it was.

It was a huge deal. The cost of staying in a place like this was something you couldn't even fathom. You'd spent years scraping by, eating leftovers just to save a few bucks, and here she was, brushing off what could've been months—maybe years—of your income.

"You don't need to worry about it," she added, her smile soft and reassuring. "Just focus on getting better. Jay's friend is also my priority."

Jay's friend.

The words hit you harder than you expected. You weren't his friend. You didn't deserve to be called that, not after the way you'd treated him.

"Thank you," you murmured finally, your voice barely audible. It was all you could manage without breaking down entirely.

Jay's mom smiled wider, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," she said, reaching out to gently pat your hand. "Now, tell me—what's your favorite food? I'll have the kitchen prepare something special for you."

You blinked, caught off guard by her kindness. "I... I don't really have one," you admitted quietly, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

It wasn't a lie. You hadn't thought about things like "favorite food" in years. Food, for you, had been about survival, not enjoyment.

"Well, then we'll just have to find one for you," she said, her tone cheerful and determined. "I'll have the staff make a variety of dishes for you to try. And don't worry—if there's anything you don't like, we'll keep trying until we find something you love."

Her words left you speechless. All you could do was nod, the weight of her generosity pressing down on you. It felt so foreign, so undeserved, and yet, for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt... cared for.

Jay, who had been quietly peeling an orange in the corner, finally spoke up. "Mom, don't overwhelm her," he said softly, his eyes flicking to yours. "She's still recovering."

You glanced at him, your gaze lingering for a moment longer than you intended.

His mother waved him off with a laugh. "Oh, hush, Jay. I'm just trying to help." She turned back to you, her smile never faltering. "You're part of our family now, okay? At least while you're here. So don't be shy about asking for anything."

Her words made something in your chest tighten. You nodded again, unable to trust your voice.

Jay's mother spent hours at your bedside, chatting away. She told you stories about Jay's childhood—how he once tried to "fix" a birdhouse with peanut butter, or how he dressed up as a firefighter for three Halloweens in a row because he was so obsessed with the uniform.

Jay groaned beside her, his face flushed as he waved her off. "Mom, stop! She doesn't need to know all of that!" he whined, his voice high with embarrassment.

But his mother only laughed, brushing him off with a playful wave. "Oh, hush, Jay. She needs to know how adorable you used to be!"

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, your lips curving into a small, almost shy smile.

Eventually, Jay's mother had to leave, something about a business emergency pulling her away. She hugged you gently before she left, squeezing your hands and promising to visit again soon.

"Take care of yourself, sweetheart," she said with a warm smile. "And if Jay gives you any trouble, let me know."

"I'm right here," Jay muttered, rolling his eyes but grinning all the same.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the room fell quiet again. You and Jay were alone, the silence settling between you like a soft blanket.

"Have you showered?" Jay asked suddenly, breaking the stillness.

You shook your head, feeling a little self-conscious. It had been days since you'd had the energy to even think about something like that.

"Do you want to?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded hesitantly.

Jay smiled, standing up to grab a towel from his bag. He returned a moment later, his hand extended to you. "Come on," he said softly, his voice warm and encouraging.

You placed your hand in his, and he guided you carefully out of the bed. But as soon as your feet touched the ground, your knees buckled beneath you, the strength in your legs giving out entirely.

"Whoa!" Jay exclaimed, catching you before you could fall. Without hesitation, he slipped your arm around his neck, his other arm sliding under your legs.

"I've got you," he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly.

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn't protest as he carried you to the bathroom. His touch was steady, his arms warm and reassuring as he placed you gently into the tub.

"Do you want me to call a nurse to help you?" Jay asked, crouching in front of you. His voice was careful, like he was trying not to overstep.

You shook your head quickly. The idea of a stranger cleaning you—seeing you—made your stomach churn with discomfort. "I'm not comfortable," you said quietly, looking away.

Jay nodded, his brows furrowed slightly in thought. He didn't push or suggest anything else. He just waited, watching you carefully.

And then, before you could stop yourself, you looked up and met his gaze. "Can you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jay's eyes widened in surprise, his ears turning red as your words sunk in. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone soft but serious. "Are you comfortable with me?"

You nodded, swallowing hard. You didn't know why you asked him. Maybe it was because he was the only one who had seen your broken pieces and didn't turn away. Maybe it was because, despite everything, you trusted him.

Jay hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the redness creeping up his neck.

Your hands trembled slightly as you began to strip off the hospital gown, letting it fall away from your shoulders.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest tightening as the scars on your body were laid bare—scars from knives, from bullets, from cigarette burns that had long since healed but never truly faded.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

You finally glanced up at Jay, only to see his face frozen in a mixture of sadness and anger. His jaw clenched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His eyes weren't looking at you with disgust or pity—just pain. Pain that you couldn't quite understand.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice cracking. You quickly crossed your arms over your chest, trying to cover yourself, to hide the ugly truth of what had been done to you.

"Don't apologize," Jay said softly, his voice strained but firm. He crouched lower, his gaze meeting yours. "You don't have to apologize for this. None of this is your fault."

You bit your lip, tears welling in your eyes as you looked away. "It's ugly," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm ugly."

"No, you're not," Jay said immediately. "Don't ever say that. Don't ever think that."

Jay begins to open the faucet, filling the tub. You felt his hand gently rest on your shoulder, his touch so light it was almost like a question. "These scars," he continued, his voice softening, "they're not ugly. They're proof that you survived."

You turned back to him, tears spilling over as his words sank in. His gaze didn't waver, didn't falter. There was no judgment in his eyes, only sincerity.

His hands were gentle as he worked, brushing over your skin with careful precision, the towel soaking up water from your arms, your back, every part of you. Each movement was measured, respectful, almost as though he was afraid of breaking you.

The silence was heavy but not uncomfortable. Still, the question burned on your tongue, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, "Why are you helping me?"

Jay froze for the briefest of moments, his hands stilling as he rinsed the washcloth. Then he gently reached for your hair, lathering shampoo between his fingers before carefully massaging it into your scalp.

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked softly, his tone calm, but you could hear the edge of emotion beneath it.

You tilted your head slightly, his fingers never missing a beat as they worked through your tangled hair.

"Because... people don't just help without a reason," you muttered, your voice barely audible. "Are you pitying me?"

Jay's hands stilled again, his fingers pausing in your hair. For a moment, you regretted asking, but then he sighed softly, his hands resuming their slow, soothing motions.

"No," he said firmly. "I'm not helping you because I pity you."

"Then why?" you pressed, your voice cracking as the question spilled out of you. "Why are you doing all this? Why do you care?"

Jay rinsed the shampoo from your hair, his hands tilting your head back slightly so the water wouldn't get in your eyes. He stayed silent for a moment, as if he was choosing his words carefully.

"Because you deserve to be cared for," he said finally, his voice almost a whisper.

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stared at the tiled wall, unable to respond as your throat tightened and your eyes began to sting.

"I'm not doing this out of pity," Jay continued, his voice soft but insistent. "I'm doing this because I want to."

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. His words felt foreign, like they didn't belong to you. Like they were meant for someone else, someone who deserved kindness.

"But I'm broken," you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips. "You don't understand. I'm not... I'm not normal."

Jay's hands paused again, and for a moment, you thought he might agree with you. But instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice so soft it almost didn't reach you.

"Who cares about 'normal'?" he asked gently, smiling at you.

His words made your chest ache, a strange, unfamiliar warmth blooming beneath the pain. You didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. Instead, you let him finish rinsing your hair, his touch as careful as ever.

Jay stayed quiet for a moment, his hand gripping the soap, before his soft voice broke the silence. "Let me brush your body, hmm? Are you okay with that?"

You looked up at him, your eyes still glossy from earlier tears. He was smiling, It was softer, almost hesitant, like he was giving you all the space in the world to say no.

For a second, your chest tightened again. But then you wiped at your tears, nodding, a small, watery laugh slipping from your lips. "Yeah, okay."

Jay let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly as he dipped the soap into the water, creating a soft lather. "You don't need to apologize," he said after a moment.

But you shook your head, tears spilling over again as the words tumbled out. "I'm sorry," you whispered. "For being a burden. For being weak."

But Jay stopped what he was doing, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. "Showing vulnerability isn't weakness," he said softly, his voice steady but warm. "Don't say you're a burden when you're not."

You finally looked at him, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his gaze.

You spent almost a month in the hospital, longer than you ever thought you'd stay. There were stretches of time when you were alone, the quiet pressing against you like a heavy blanket.

Jay still had to attend his classes during the day, and you hated how much that relieved you. Being around him, around his patience and kindness, was almost too much to bear. It made the guilt twist deeper into your chest.

But every night, without fail, Jay came back. He'd shuffle in, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his shirt slightly wrinkled, and his face drawn with exhaustion.

No matter how tired he was, he'd sit beside you for a while, asking how your day had been, what you'd eaten, or if you needed anything.

Then, when he couldn't fight the fatigue anymore, he'd curl up on the couch, a thin blanket thrown over him, and fall asleep with his phone still clutched in his hand.

You'd watch him sometimes, your chest tightening at the sight of him.

Jay's mother visited often, breezing into the room with her warm smile and bags full of food. "You need to eat this," she'd say, setting down a steaming dish in front of you. "It'll help your bones."

The next day, it was something new: "This will boost your blood count!" she'd exclaim, watching eagerly as you took hesitant bites.

At first, you forced yourself to eat out of politeness, but slowly, you began to notice things.

You realized you liked gimbap—the way the rice was soft and slightly sweet, the seaweed wrapping it all together. You discovered new juices and found yourself craving strawberry milkshake more than anything else.

Jay's mom always noticed. "Strawberry milkshake, hmm?" she teased one afternoon, her smile playful. "I'll make sure to bring more tomorrow."

The warmth of her attention and care settled uncomfortably in your chest. You didn't know how to handle it, didn't know what to do with the kindness she gave so freely. It was foreign, and it made the guilt inside you grow.

After weeks of lying in bed, your body weak and fragile, the day finally came when you managed to stand on your own two feet. It wasn't easy. Your legs shook, your grip on the metal IV stand so tight your knuckles turned white, but you did it. For a brief moment, you felt a flicker of pride.

But then you looked down at yourself. Your pale, almost sickly skin stretched over your bony frame. Faint bruises marred your knees and legs.

You hated looking at yourself like this—so helpless, so exposed.

Your fingers trembled as you tightened your grip on the IV stand, leaning against it for support. Every movement felt slow and deliberate, like your body was relearning how to move after months of stillness. You shuffled to the calendar pinned on the wall, each step sending a dull ache through your legs, but you pushed through it.

December 13.

You stared at the date, your chest tightening as the weight of it settled on you. Three months. Three months until the Purge.

Your hand instinctively went to your stomach, as if trying to steady the rising wave of anxiety building inside you. You swallowed hard, your throat dry and tight. The memories began creeping in, uninvited, flashing behind your eyes like fragments of a nightmare you could never escape.

You shook your head, closing your eyes to block it out, but it didn't help. The thought was already there, rooting itself firmly in your mind.

You couldn't go back to the same cycle of fear, of waiting for someone to find you, to break you all over again.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to steady your breathing, gripping the IV stand as it was the only thing keeping you upright. You felt caught in between two versions of yourself—the girl who cowered in fear, and the one who had spent months preparing to become something worse.

"You're standing."

The voice startled you, and you turned your head sharply, your grip tightening on the IV stand.

Jay was standing at the doorway, his hand on the handle, staring at you with that familiar wide smile that somehow made the heaviness in the room feel a little lighter.

"My mother said you like strawberry milkshake, so I brought you one," he said, stepping inside and walking toward you, his eyes soft with pride as he glanced at your trembling legs. "Here, let me help."

Before you could say anything, Jay gently took your hand and guided you back to the bed,

"I think I should discharge," you said quietly, the words barely escaping your lips.

Jay blinked, his smile fading slightly. "Why? You're not well yet. Are you thinking about the bills? You shouldn't. I told you, that's already taken care of."

You shook your head, staring at the strawberry milkshake in his hand as he popped the straw into the cup. He handed it to you, the smell of sweet strawberries wafting up and tempting your senses, but you couldn't focus on it.

"The Purge," you said finally, your voice trembling as you gripped the cup tightly, your knuckles turning white. "It's coming again."

Jay froze for a moment, his expression softening as he crouched down in front of you, his eyes level with yours. You could feel his gaze searching your face, waiting for you to continue.

"They... they're coming," you mumbled, your voice breaking. Your chest started to rise and fall rapidly, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "I don't know what they'll do this time."

Jay reached out instinctively, his hand resting gently on top of yours, steadying the trembling that had begun to spread through your fingers.

"They always find me. No matter where I go. They... they enjoy it. It's a game to them." Jay's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he listened.

"They won't find you this time," he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "I won't let them."

You stared at him, your chest tightening as you tried to find the words to respond. Instead, you looked down at the strawberry milkshake in your hand, the straw still untouched. Slowly, you brought it to your lips, taking a small sip. The sweet, familiar taste spread across your tongue, and for just a moment.

Jay stayed crouched in front of you, his hand still resting lightly on yours as he watched your expression soften just slightly after taking a sip of the strawberry milkshake.

"Y/N," Jay said after a pause, his voice careful.

You glanced at him, your grip tightening slightly around the cup in your hands. "What is it?"

Jay shifted, sitting back on his heels but keeping his gaze level with yours. "Have you ever thought about talking to someone? You know, a therapist? Someone who might be able to help with... everything you've been through."

Your breath hitched, and you stiffened slightly, your shoulders tensing as the words sank in. "I don't need that," you muttered quickly, looking away from him. "I'm fine."

Jay tilted his head slightly, his expression soft but unconvinced. "I don't think you're fine," he said gently, his tone lacking any hint of judgment. "And that's okay. You don't have to be fine. After what you've been through... no one would expect you to be."

Your chest tightened, your fingers digging into the cup as you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. "I don't want to talk about it," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "Talking won't change anything. It won't make the memories go away."

"I know," Jay said softly. "It won't erase what happened. But maybe it could help you carry it. You've been carrying all of this alone for so long, Y/N. Maybe it's time to let someone else help."

"I can't," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't know how to... to say it out loud. I don't even know where I'd start."

Jay's hand tightened slightly on yours, grounding you as he leaned closer. "You don't have to start anywhere specific," he said quietly.

"You just have to take it one step at a time. They won't push you to talk about anything you're not ready for. It's not about fixing everything all at once—it's about helping you find a way to live with it."

You looked at him, your vision blurred by unshed tears, and for a moment, you hated how much his words made sense. You hated how right he was, how kind he was being, how much he cared when you weren't sure you deserved it.

"I don't know," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know if I can do it."

Jay nodded, his eyes warm and understanding. "That's okay," he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring.

"You don't have to decide right now," he continued, his hand lightly squeezing yours. "I just want you to know it's an option. And if you ever want to try, I'll be there with you. I'll help you find someone. You don't have to do it alone."

You stared at him, his words settling in your heart like a soft weight. Slowly, you nodded, a small, shy smile tugging at your lips. "Thank you," you whispered,

January came, and you were finally discharged from the hospital. It felt strange being back in the world after so much time spent in bed, but Jay made it easier.

In the weeks after your release, you returned to your small apartment, but more often than not, you found yourself spending your nights at Jay's home.

His mother insisted, always greeting you with a warm smile and asking how you were feeling. "It's better to keep an eye on you," she'd say, ushering you to the dinner table, where she'd pile your plate with food.

You had stopped studying, deciding to focus on working full-time instead. Jay had suggested a restaurant he knew, and before long, you found yourself settling into a routine. The work was tiring, but it kept your mind busy, and slowly, the spark in your eyes began to return.

Your nightmares didn't disappear, but they became easier to bear with Jay by your side. Whenever you woke up crying, shaking from the images that haunted you, he was always there.

"Shhh, it's okay," he'd whisper, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. His chest was warm and steady against your cheek, and his hand would rub soothing circles on your back as he whispered, "I'm here, love. I've got you."

You didn't know where he got his patience. No matter how many times you woke him in the middle of the night, trembling and crying, he never got frustrated. He never made you feel like a burden.

And maybe that's why, before you even realized it, you fell in love with him.

It wasn't a dramatic realization—no grand moment or spark. It was slow and steady, like the warmth he gave you every day. It was in the way he smiled at you, in the way he stayed even when he didn't have to.

You wanted to be better for him. You wanted to be strong—not just for yourself, but for him, too. That's when you decided to take his advice. You were going to try and talk to a therapist.

One evening, you were lying on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear. His hand played idly with your hair, his fingers brushing through the strands like it was second nature. The room was quiet, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the heater, and you felt so at ease it was almost strange.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were closed, his lips relaxed in a small, peaceful smile. Something about the moment felt so natural, so intimate, that it made your heart swell.

Without really thinking, you leaned closer, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. You felt him shift slightly beneath you, but he didn't stop you. The warmth of his skin was comforting, and before you could second-guess yourself, you pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

You felt his body tense under you, his breath hitching ever so slightly. His fingers froze in your hair, and for a moment, you thought you'd made a mistake.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and shaky, like he wasn't sure what to say.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his wide eyes, your cheeks burning. "I—" you started, but the words caught in your throat.

Jay's lips parted, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

You bit your lip, "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His expression softened immediately, his fingers brushing your cheek. "Don't be," he said gently. "Just... tell me. Is this what you want?"

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding again. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling.

Jay's hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath apart. "Me too," he whispered, and then he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid of breaking the moment, but when you kissed him back, his grip on you tightened slightly, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling the back of your head.

Your tongue traced a slow, deliberate line down to his neck, and when you sucked gently at the sensitive skin there, he groaned, low and deep, the sound sending a rush of heat through you.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice shaky as his hands found their way to your waist. You grabbed them, guiding them more firmly against your body as you shifted, straddling his lap.

Jay's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his gaze darkened, his lips parting slightly as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss wasn't soft —it was full of need, your lips moving hungrily against his as your hips rolled against him.

You gasped into his mouth, the heat pooling low in your stomach as you felt the tension building between you. Your breath came in heavy pants as you pulled back just enough to whisper, "I love you."

Jay's hands slid under your clothes, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. His touch was warm.

"I love you," he said back, his voice low and full of something raw, his head tilting back slightly as your movements sent a shiver through him.

You didn't stop. Your hips pressed into him again, a slow, deliberate grind that made him bite back a groan, his head falling back further as his grip on your waist tightened. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pausing as his eyes met yours again. "Can I?" he asked softly, his voice laced with tenderness.

You nodded, your heart racing as he carefully lifted the shirt over your head. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every inch of exposed skin, and you felt a familiar pang of self-consciousness.

You instinctively moved to cover yourself, your arms wrapping around your torso, but Jay stopped you gently, his hands warm and steady as they held yours.

"Don't hide," he whispered, his voice so soft it made your chest ache. "Please don't hide from me."

Your breath hitched as his hands released yours, moving slowly to trace the lines of one of the scars on your shoulder. He leaned down and pressed his lips to the scar on your shoulder, the gesture so tender it sent a jolt through your entire body.

He kissed it again, slower this time, before moving to another scar on your arm, his lips lingering as if to erase the pain it carried.

You couldn't stop the tears that spilled over, your hands trembling as they clutched at his shoulders. "Jay..." you whispered, your voice cracking.

"I see you," he murmured against your skin, his hands steady as they held your waist. "I see all of you, and I love every part of you."

His lips brushed against the scar on your collarbone, then another on your ribs, each kiss more deliberate than the last.

Jay's eyes softened as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, I love you."

The sincerity in his words made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You didn't know how to respond, your chest tightening with emotions too overwhelming to name. Instead, you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that spoke all the words you couldn't say.

His hands slid up your back, his touch firm yet tender as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressing together. The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, his lips moving against yours with a passion that sent heat coursing through your veins.

Then, with a flick of his fingers, you felt the clasp of your bra come undone. The cool air brushed against your skin.

A soft moan escaped your lips as his hand cupped your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple, teasing and flicking it in a way that made your back arch involuntarily. Jay groaned against your mouth, the sound low and deep, sending a wave of desire pooling low in your stomach.

He gently guided you to lay down, his lips never leaving yours until he moved to your jawline, then your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses in his wake.

He stopped at your left breast, his warm breath ghosting over your skin before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently.

The sensation made you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched into him. His tongue flicked over the sensitive peak, sending jolts of pleasure through your body, while his right hand gripped your other breast, kneading it with just the right amount of pressure.

You let your head fall back, lost in the feeling, soft moans spilling from your lips as your body responded to his every touch. His name escaped your lips like a prayer, and he hummed against your skin, the vibrations adding to the heat building within you.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his right hand began to travel lower. His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties, and you felt his touch move in slow, deliberate circles.

A gasp tore from your throat as his fingers teased you, his touch light but enough to make your hips lift in desperation. "Jay," you breathed, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for more.

"You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice rough and heavy with desire. His lips returned to yours, as his fingers continued their slow, torturous motion, building a fire within you that you couldn't extinguish.

When his finger slowly slid inside you, your breath hitched, your chest pressing into his as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve in your body alive with heat as he moved inside you, testing your limits.

Jay's forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and warm against your lips. "I'm going to add another one, baby," he said, his voice low and filled with lust. "Can you take it?"

You nodded quickly, your hands clutching at him, your voice trembling as you whispered, "I can take it for you."

He groaned at your words, his jaw tightening as he stared at you with darkened eyes. "Fuck, don't say stuff like that," he muttered, his voice almost a growl.

Without wasting another second, he slid a second finger inside you, stretching you in a way that made your back arch. The pace of his movements quickened, the slick sound of his fingers filling the room as your walls clenched around him. The pleasure built fast, sharp and electric, making your breath come out in broken gasps.

Jay leaned down, his lips trailing along your collarbone, then down to your chest again. His mouth latched onto your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple, adding another layer of sensation that made your head spin.

"Jay," you whimpered, your hips moving on their own, grinding into his hand as his fingers curled inside you, hitting a spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

"You're so good," he murmured against your skin, his free hand gripping your waist to keep you steady as his mouth moved between your breasts, leaving heated kisses in his wake.

"I'm gonna cum," you whined, your voice high and desperate as the pressure in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter.

Jay didn't let up. His tongue teased your nipple, licking it in slow, deliberate strokes that made you shudder, while his thumb suddenly found your clit, pressing and rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his fingers.

The combination was too much. Your body shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure crashed over you in waves. "Jay!" you sobbed, your hips lifting off the bed as your orgasm hit, leaving you trembling and breathless beneath him.

He didn't stop right away, his fingers and thumb slowing just enough to help you ride out the high, his lips never leaving your skin. "That's it," he whispered, his voice full of pride and adoration. "You're so beautiful like this."

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. When his fingers finally slipped out of you, you whimpered softly, feeling the loss of his touch.

Jay kissed your forehead gently, his hands soothing over your sides as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice soft again, filled with affection. "I've got you."

"I was preparing for the Purge this year," you said quietly, staring at your hands instead of your therapist, Ms. Jisoo.

"A self-defense plan, or something more?" she asked gently. There was no judgment in her voice, just calm curiosity.

"Something more," you admitted, biting your lip as your fingers fidgeted in your lap.

Ms. Jisoo nodded softly, giving you space to speak. "Do you still think about it now, after falling in love?"

You paused, her question lingering in your mind. "I don't know," you said after a moment. "I've been so focused on him... on how he makes me feel. The only thing I know for sure is I want to be a better person for him. Not... this."

You hesitated, your voice trembling. "Not some mentally unstable girl who can't even sleep through the night without waking up screaming."

Your chest tightened as the words left you, the guilt clawing at your throat.

Ms. Jisoo leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle and steady. "Wanting to heal for someone you love is a wonderful thing, Y/N. But it's okay to want to heal for yourself too. That doesn't make you weak, and it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

Her words softened something in your chest, but the guilt was still there, heavy and sharp. You bit your lip harder, tears welling in your eyes.

"D-Do you think I'm a monster?" you asked suddenly, your voice breaking. "For thinking about purging this year? For even wanting it?" You finally looked up at her, tears spilling as you waited for the answer you feared most.

Ms. Jisoo's expression stayed calm, warm, and understanding. "You're not a monster," she said gently, her voice soft as she stares at you.

"You're someone who's been hurt. Someone who's been through things no one should ever have to experience. It's okay to feel angry. It's okay to feel hate. Those feelings don't make you a monster. They make you human."

"But they feel so wrong," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "Wanting it feels wrong."

"They're not wrong or right," she said softly. "They're just feelings."

You sniffled, wiping at your face with trembling hands, but her words didn't fully settle the storm inside you. After a moment, you looked back at her, hesitating before asking the question that had been on your mind for so long.

"Do you... agree with the Purge?"

Ms. Jisoo blinked, caught off guard by the question. She leaned back slightly, her hands folding in her lap as she thought about her answer.

"No," she said after a moment, "I don't. I don't think violence solves anything. And I don't think people should have the right to hurt others, no matter what the law says. The Purge... it brings out the worst in people. It allows fear and hate to fester. And I've seen how much it hurts people—people like you."

Her gaze softened, and she leaned forward slightly, her tone quiet. "But I also understand why you feel the way you do. The Purge forces people to live in fear, to carry anger and pain that they shouldn't have to carry. It's normal to feel conflicted. It's normal to feel angry."

You swallowed hard, her words sinking into you like drops of water on dry ground. "So... I'm not wrong for feeling like this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"No," she said firmly. "You're not wrong. You're human, Y/N. And humans feel messy, complicated things. There's no shame in that."

You nodded slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do with myself. I keep thinking and thinking about what I should do to live freely... but nothing feels right."

Ms. Jisoo smiled gently, her expression steady and reassuring. "It's okay to feel lost, Y/N. Healing doesn't come with a map or a timeline. But you're taking steps forward, even if they're small. Just keep going. You'll find your way."

By the middle of February, your days had settled into a rhythm. You managed your job at the restaurant, worked through your therapy sessions every week, and spent most of your free time with Jay and his mother.

Their home felt warm, almost like a haven, and you found yourself doing small things to show your gratitude—buying Jay his favorite snacks, surprising his mom with flowers or something she'd mentioned in passing.

They never expected anything in return for their kindness, but doing those little things made you feel like you were giving back in some small way.

One evening, the restaurant was hosting a group of high-class businesspeople who had reserved the entire dining area. The room buzzed with laughter and chatter, the expensive suits and gleaming jewelry making you feel out of place as you carried trays of food to their table.

As you placed the dishes on the table, your eyes drifted to a middle-aged blonde woman sitting at the center. Her hair was perfectly styled, her tailored suit fitting her like it had been made just for her. She held a glass of wine delicately, twirling it in her hand as she laughed with the others.

Your breath hitched.

A memory slammed into you with the force of a freight train.

Gunshots. Screams. Blood splattered across the ground. You could see the flash of a machete. Hear the sound of a head rolling across the dirt. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your throat tightening as the room spun around you. The scar on your arm felt like it was burning.

"Excuse me?" a man's voice pulled you back to reality, his tone polite but firm. "Do you need anything else?"

You blinked, your breath still shaky as you tried to steady yourself. The blonde woman's laughter had faded, and now she was looking at you, her piercing eyes sharp and almost bored, like she was trying to place where she'd seen you before.

You struggled to keep your hands from trembling as you clutched the tray tighter. "I-I'm fine," you stammered, inhaling deeply to keep your composure.

But it didn't help when one of the other women at the table—a brunette with diamond earrings—reached for your arm, pushing up your sleeve to reveal the long scar that ran down the length of it.

"God," the woman said, her voice dripping with disgust. "What a nasty scar you have." Her fingers brushed the raised tissue, making you flinch involuntarily. "How'd you even get this?"

You froze, the room seeming to go quiet as her words echoed in your ears. You couldn't breathe, couldn't think. You wanted to rip your arm away, but your body felt paralyzed, like you were trapped in that night all over again.

And then, you heard yourself asking, "Are you Ms. Wilson?"

The words felt foreign on your tongue, your voice shaky as you stared at the blonde woman.

She raised an eyebrow at you, her expression amused. "Yes, why?" she asked, taking another sip of her wine. "Do I know you?"

You almost laughed. Of course, she didn't remember. People like her never did.

Your grip on the tray tightened, your knuckles white as your mind raced. You remembered her now—her face, her voice, the way she had smiled behind the mask as she watched you and the others run for your lives.

And she didn't even remember you.

"No," you said, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "You don't."

Her head tilted slightly, her sharp eyes narrowing as if she were trying to place you, but after a moment, she simply shrugged and turned back to her companions, already dismissing you from her mind.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your nails digging into the tray as you tried to contain the rage bubbling up inside you.

You turned on your heel, your legs trembling with each step as you left the dining area. The walls of the restaurant seemed to close in, the air thick and suffocating.

Your breaths came in short, shallow gasps as you pushed through the kitchen doors, your tray clattering loudly onto the counter.

Gripping the edge of the counter, your knuckles turned white as you stared down at the cold, stainless steel surface. You willed yourself to calm down, to pull it together, but your heart was racing, your chest heaving as the memories refused to let you go.

You muttered something about not feeling well to your manager, barely hearing his reply as you left the restaurant.

You didn't go to Jay's home like you usually did. Instead, you walked to your own apartment, your feet moving automatically, your head swirling with thoughts you couldn't control.

When you finally closed the door behind you, something inside you broke. You let out a scream, raw and primal, nails digging into your throat as if you could claw the pain away. Tears streamed down your face, hot and endless, blurring your vision as sob after sob wracked your body.

You stumbled to the target board you had set up on the wall—the one you used for practice, for preparation—and grabbed a knife. With a sharp, angry cry, you hurled it at the board. It hit the target right in the head.

You screamed again, louder this time, grabbing anything within reach and throwing it across the room. A glass shattered against the wall. A stack of books tumbled to the floor. You didn't care.

When you finally collapsed onto your bed, your body was trembling, your chest heaving as you cried into the pillow. The tears wouldn't stop, your sobs loud and broken as you curled into yourself, trying to escape the weight pressing down on you.

At some point, exhaustion took over, and you fell asleep, your face damp with tears.

You jolted awake when the bed shifted beneath you. Your heart leapt into your throat, your body tensing instinctively, but then you saw him—Jay, sitting beside you, his worried eyes scanning your face.

"You didn't come home," he said softly, his voice full of concern.

"I was worried. Your manager said you took an early leave." He reached for your hand, holding it gently as his thumb brushed over your knuckles. "Did something happen?"

His voice was so calm, so steady, and it only made your tears resurface. You watched him lift your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your fingertips. The tenderness in his actions broke you all over again.

Your eyes watered, and before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as you cried. Your sobs were muffled against the fabric of his shirt, but he didn't say anything—he just held you, his arms wrapping around you tightly, protectively.

"It will never go away," you choked out between sobs, your voice muffled against his chest. "I don't know how to heal when this Purge still fucking exists."

Jay tightened his hold on you, his hand moving to the back of your head as he gently stroked your hair.

"I'm so sorry," you cried, your voice breaking. "For always being like this."

"Shh," he murmured softly, pulling you into his lap. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "You don't have to apologize, love. Don't ever apologize for how you feel."

You buried your face in his shoulder, shaking your head. The words of comfort should've helped, but all they did was amplify the storm inside you.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Jay asked, his voice low and patient.

You shook your head, gripping him tighter. You couldn't bring yourself to say it. Not now. Not yet.

He didn't push. He just held you, his hand running up and down your back as you cried into him.

And then, as the room grew quieter, your emotions spilled into something else. The ache in your chest shifted, giving way to a deeper, more desperate need—the need to feel alive, to feel connected, to escape the weight of your mind, even if only for a moment.

Your lips found his, and he kissed you back without hesitation, his hands tightening around your waist. The kiss was slow at first, gentle, but soon it grew hungry, fueled by the raw emotion lingering in the air.

It wasn't long before your knees dug into the mattress, your body arching beneath him as he moved inside you. The pain and weight of your emotions blurred into the pleasure of his touch, every thrust sending a wave of heat through your body.

"A-ah! Fuck, slow down!" you gasped as he hit a spot inside you that made your toes curl.

"Felt so good," Jay groaned, his breath hot against your ear as his body pressed flush against yours. His lips found the nape of your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as his fingers kneaded your breasts, sending sparks of sensation through you.

You threw your head back, your arms giving out beneath you as he pressed deeper. "Jay," you whimpered, his name tumbling from your lips as your body trembled with every movement.

"Love you," he groaned, his voice rough with desperation. "Fuck, a-ah, I'm gonna cum."

"Inside me, please," you begged, your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard you.

Jay's body fell against yours as he pushed deeper, his breath hitching as his release overtook him. The feeling of him filling you pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing into you so intensely that tears pricked your eyes.

Your cries of overstimulation mixed with his groans, his hips moving in small, desperate thrusts as he fill inside you. Finally, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath.

His lips pressed soft kisses along your forehead and temple, his hand trailing to your stomach, where his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice so full of sincerity that it made your chest ache.

You turned your head, catching his lips in a soft, lingering kiss. He kissed you back, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

"Spend the Purge at our house," he said after a moment, his forehead resting against yours. "You'll be safe there. I'll protect you. I promise."

His words should have comforted you. They should have been enough. But as you stared into his eyes, full of love and hope, you felt your chest tighten.

Because no matter what Jay did to protect you, no matter how much healing you tried to find, there was one truth you couldn't ignore.

No matter how hard you fought it, no matter how much you loved him, you're still broken, and lost.

March 21, 3:00 PM

You wiped the tables methodically, trying to focus on the task, but the air in the restaurant was tense. All eyes were glued to the TV mounted on the wall, where the announcement of the Annual Purge was being broadcast. The monotone voice of the announcer echoed through the room, describing the rules and restrictions for the night.

Your manager came up to you, his voice urgent. "Hey, take an early leave. Go home and get ready. You shouldn't be out when the sirens start."

You nodded, offering him a faint smile. "Thanks, I'll head out soon."

After finishing up and helping close the restaurant, you walked back to your apartment. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the streets. As you set up a small barricade in your apartment—nothing fancy, just furniture pressed against the windows and doors—you heard a car honk outside.

Peeking out, you saw Jay leaning casually against his car, waiting for you with that familiar warm smile.

You felt a wave of comfort wash over you at the sight of him. Smiling back, you hurried outside, throwing your arms around his neck and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Let's go home?" he asked, his voice calm and full of care.

You hesitated, glancing back at your apartment. "I need to grab a few things first," you said.

Jay nodded easily. "Of course. Take your time."

After changing out of your work uniform, you slipped into a white off-shoulder dress that reached your knees—something simple yet elegant. You'd never worn it before, and even the soft fabric against your skin felt foreign. Paired with Mary Jane shoes and a pair of cute white socks.

When you stepped into Jay's car, he looked up at you, his eyes widening slightly. "Wow," he murmured, his gaze softening. "You look beautiful."

You felt your cheeks warm as he leaned in, holding your jaw gently and pecking your lips. "What's with the outfit today?" he teased, laughing lightly.

You smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I just thought... maybe I'd wear something different. Something nice."

Jay laughed again, his hand reaching out toward your thigh, but you subtly redirected it, placing it over yours instead. He didn't seem to mind, intertwining his fingers with yours as his other hand rested on the steering wheel.

March 21, 4:30 PM

The house was buzzing with noise by the time you arrived. From the top of the stairs, you peeked down and saw six boys piling in through the entrance, bags slung over their shoulders as they greeted Jay's mother.

"Oh, it's Jay's friends!" his mother exclaimed warmly, hugging them one by one.

You recognized Ni-ki and Sunoo, the only ones you'd met before. The rest were strangers to you, their confident voices filling the house as they exchanged jokes and pleasantries.

"Hi, Mrs. Park! I hope you don't mind if we spend the Purge here at your house!" said a tall man with an easy smile.

"No problem, Heesung," Jay's mother replied, her voice full of affection. "What about your parents and sisters?"

"They're at a party," another boy replied casually. "Some politician's mansion. They love that kind of thing."

Your breath hitched, the words hitting a nerve.

What a nice life to be rich, you thought bitterly.

"Hey," Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him standing beside you, his brow furrowed slightly. "Are you okay?"

You forced a smile, one you'd perfected over the years. "Yeah, I'm fine. Your friends are downstairs."

Jay studied you for a moment longer, but then he smiled, intertwining his hand with yours as he led you down the stairs.

The boys were loud and full of energy, laughing and teasing each other as they set their bags down and unpacked their things. Jay's mother fussed over them, offering snacks and asking about their families.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend," Jay announced proudly, pulling you close by your waist.

The room fell quiet for a brief moment, and you could feel their gazes on you.

"Oh my God, you're a thing now?" Jay's mother gasped, her hands clasped over her mouth.

"Isn't it obvious?" Jay replied with a laugh.

One of the boys stepped forward, introducing himself. "Hi, Y/N! I'm Heesung. This is Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungwon. I guess you already know Ni-ki and Sunoo."

You offered a polite smile, nodding as they all greeted you.

As the evening went on, you stayed mostly quiet, helping Jay's mother prepare food while the boys joked around. Jay noticed your silence, slipping his arms around your waist from behind as you worked in the kitchen.

"Hey," he murmured against your ear. "You're safe, okay? You don't need to worry."

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with emotions you couldn't express. "I love you," you said softly, staring into his eyes.

Jay smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. "I love you more," he replied, glancing at his watch. "It's already 6:30. I need to barricade the house."

You nodded, watching as he started to walk away. Then, impulsively, you called out, "Jay."

He turned back, his eyes soft. "Hmm?"

Walking up to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. His hands found your face, gently brushing his thumb across your cheek as he looked at you with worry. "Are you anxious, baby?" he asked softly.

"No," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I just wanted to say I love you again."

Jay let out a soft laugh, leaning down to kiss you. "Love, I'm just barricading the house, not purging." He kissed your forehead tenderly, his lips lingering for a moment. "Now, let me lock everything down so we'll be safe, okay?"

You nodded, stepping back reluctantly as he disappeared toward the storage room.

Jay walked through the dim hallway leading to the storage room when he heard footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Sunghoon catching up to him, a casual smirk on his face as he slung an arm around Jay's shoulder.

"Yo, bro," Sunghoon said casually, falling into step beside him. "No offense but, you sure about that girl?"

Jay frowned, shrugging off Sunghoon's arm. "Why? What are you talking about?"

Sunghoon shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "She just... seems like a lot. I mean, no offense, but she looks like she's difficult to handle."

Jay's brows furrowed deeper, his steps slowing as he turned to face Sunghoon. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, we care about you," Sunghoon said, raising his hands as if to calm him. "Have you seen her scars? Her face? She's clearly been through some shit. Is she even healed from all that?"

Jay's jaw tightened, his teeth clenching as anger flared in his chest. He stepped closer to Sunghoon, his voice low and dangerous. "Watch your mouth."

"Chill, man, I'm just saying." Sunghoon grabbed Jay's arm in an attempt to reason with him. "That girl's got baggage, and I'm telling you, she's going to be a lot of problems for you. She's not stable, bro. You can't tell me you haven't noticed."

Jay didn't let him finish. His hand shot out, grabbing Sunghoon by the collar and shoving him back against the wall. "Say another word, and I swear I'll make you regret it," he growled, his voice dripping with rage.

Sunghoon's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't back down. "I'm trying to look out for you, Jay," he said, his tone firm. "You're my friend. I don't want you getting hurt."

Jay released him with a sharp shove, his chest heaving as he tried to control his temper. "Don't ever talk about her like that again," he said coldly, his eyes burning with anger. "You don't know a damn thing about her."

He turned on his heel, ignoring Sunghoon as he walked into the storage room. His hands trembled slightly as he pressed the button to activate the lockdown. The sound of metal walls sliding into place filled the air, sealing the house and cutting off the world outside.

"Jay, listen to me," Sunghoon said, his voice following him into the room. "I'm serious. There's something off about her. Just think about it, man."

Jay didn't respond. He slammed the door shut behind him, shutting Sunghoon out both literally and figuratively.

Returning to the living room, Jay found the rest of his friends lounging on the couches, laughing and exchanging stories. His mother was tidying up nearby, a small smile on her face as she listened to their chatter.

"Where's Y/N?" Jay asked, his eyes scanning the room.

"I think she went to your room," Ni-ki said, glancing up from his phone. "She said she wanted to sleep early."

Jay nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. But before he could take another step, Sunghoon appeared at his side again.

"Man, I'm trying to talk to you," Sunghoon said, his voice laced with frustration.

Jay's patience snapped. Without thinking, he turned and landed a punch squarely on Sunghoon's jaw, sending him stumbling backward.

The room fell silent as the others jumped to their feet.

"Jay! What the hell are you doing?!" Jake shouted, stepping between them.

"I'm just trying to give him advice about his girlfriend!" Sunghoon snapped, holding his jaw as he glared at Jay.

"Are you seriously saying that fucking nonsense while my girlfriend is in this house?!" he shouted. "How dare you even say that shit in front of me?!"

Sunghoon raised his hands in defense, but Jay wasn't done. He stepped closer, pointing a finger at him. "You've known her for, what, an hour? And you think you have the right to judge her? To judge us? Fuck you, Sunghoon!"

"Jay, calm down," Heesung said cautiously, stepping between the two of them with his hands outstretched, but Jay wasn't having it.

"You don't get to judge her just because of what you think you see!" Jay growled, his voice trembling with anger. He shoved Heesung and Jake off as they tried to hold him back.

"Get the fuck off me!" he barked, storming out of the living room. His footsteps pounded against the floor as he made his way up the stairs, leaving everyone behind in stunned silence.

Jay climbed the stairs two at a time, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. He pulled out his phone, swiping through his notifications until he found a message from Dr. Jisoo that he had missed earlier.

Dr. Jisoo: Good afternoon, Mr. Park. I just wanted to check in on Y/N since she's missed her last three sessions. Please keep an eye on her, especially today—it's a particularly triggering event for her. Thank you.

Jay felt a wave of dread wash over him, his heart sinking into his stomach. He quickened his pace, practically sprinting to his bedroom.

"Y/N?" he called, pushing the door open.

But the room was empty.

Panic set in as he checked the bathroom, the closet, all of the room, even under the bed, but you were nowhere to be found.

He bolted back down the stairs, his voice frantic as he called out for you. "Y/N?! Where are you?!"

His mother stepped into the hallway, her face pale with worry. "What's wrong, Jay?"

"She's gone," he said, his voice shaking. "Did anyone see her leave?!"

Everyone in the living room exchanged confused looks, shrugging helplessly.

"Y/N?!" Jay shouted again, his voice echoing through the house.

Jay froze as the broadcast echoed through the house, the robotic voice chilling him to the bone.

"This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S Government.

Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.

Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning, until 7 a.m., when the Purge concludes.

Blessed by our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all."

The final words echoed in his ears as the sirens blared, signaling the start of the Purge.

His heart pounded, his chest tight as he pieced everything together. The missed therapy sessions, how quiet you had been all day, the way you hugged him like it might be the last time.

You weren't in the house.

You were out there.

Jay turned on his heel and sprinted to the storage room, his mind racing as panic surged through him.

He yanked open his closet, grabbing the bag he had packed weeks ago—just in case. Inside were the essentials: a shotgun, a pistol, extra ammunition, and a knife. He tossed the bag over his shoulder, his hands trembling as he loaded the pistol, cocking it with precision.

"Jay, what are you doing?!" his mother cried, standing at the door with tears streaming down her face.

"Unlock the barricade and lock it again after I leave," he said coldly, his voice devoid of the warmth she was used to.

"Jay, you can't! It's dangerous out there!" she pleaded, stepping closer.

"Unlock it!" he snapped, his voice sharp, though his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil. "Please, Mom. I have to go."

"No," Sunghoon interrupted, stepping forward and grabbing Jay's arm. "You're not thinking straight. She left, Jay. She chose to go out there—"

Jay swatted his hand away, pointing the pistol directly at Sunghoon's head. The room went silent.

"Jay!" Heesung shouted, stepping forward.

"Come any closer, and I'll blow his fucking head off," Jay growled, his jaw tightening as his finger hovered near the trigger. "You don't get to stop me. None of you do."

Sunghoon raised his hands slowly, his expression shifting to one of caution. "Alright, man. Just... relax, okay? I'm just trying to—"

"Shut up," Jay hissed, the tension in his body radiating outward. His voice lowered, trembling slightly. "I told you to stay out of this. She's out there, and I'm going to find her."

He turned his gaze to Ni-ki, who was frozen near the security console. "Ni-ki," Jay said firmly. "Unlock the barricade. Now."

Ni-ki hesitated, looking at Jungwon and Jake for guidance, but neither said anything. With a shaky hand, Ni-ki pressed the button, and the sound of the metal walls lifting reverberated through the house.

"Jay, please," his mother sobbed, grabbing his arm as he stepped toward the door.

Jay paused, his resolve faltering for just a moment as he looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "But I can't stay here knowing she's out there."

Tears streamed down her face as she nodded, her voice trembling. "I understand, be safe. Please."

"I will," Jay said, stepping out the door. "Lock it the second I'm gone."

The metal walls began to descend behind him as he walked to his car, his mind racing with questions. Where could you have gone? Why didn't you tell him? Were you safe? Were you scared?

Sliding into the driver's seat, he tossed the bag into the passenger side and gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. His eyes scanned the darkened streets, the occasional scream or gunshot in the distance reminding him of the stakes.

Without hesitation, he pressed the gas pedal.

You walk slowly down an unfamiliar road, your steps unsteady. You just keep walking and walking, unsure of where you're going or why. You don't understand yourself anymore. You thought everything was finally okay. What more could you ask for?

You have a loving boyfriend who always tries to make you smile. His mother cares for you like her own. You eat three meals a day. You're seeing a therapist. And you even have a safe place to hide on Purge Night.

So why do you feel like this?

Why do you feel so broken when you should feel whole?

Why are you out here, in the middle of the street, on the most dangerous night of the year, with just a knife strapped under your dress?

You wonder if Jay has noticed you're gone. He probably has by now. Your chest tightens at the thought of him pacing back and forth, calling your name.

Your lifeless eyes stare ahead as you walk deeper into the quiet street. It's so still, unnaturally still. No trucks rumbling down the road. No gangs or masked figures in sight.

"Kill me already!" you scream into the emptiness. Your voice echoes down the road, but there's no answer. Not a single sniper or purger takes the bait.

Then, a distant cry catches your ear—a plea for help. You turn toward the sound and walk toward it, your grip tightening on the handle of the knife hidden beneath your dress.

As you approach, you see a young girl sprinting toward you, clutching her bleeding waist. Four people in masks are chasing her, laughing like it's some sick game.

"Man, we just want to purge!" one of them—a woman—cackles. That laugh—it burrows into your memory like a needle.

The girl stumbles, and when her eyes meet yours, there's desperation written all over them. She collapses at your feet, her blood soaking through your white dress as she clings to you.

"Please... help me," she gasps.

Her words are cut off by a gunshot. Blood splatters across your face as a hole appears in her forehead. Her body falls limp, her grip on your dress loosening.

"My fucking soul feels cleansed!" the woman says with a twisted laugh. The others laugh with her, like a pack of hyenas.

"Up next—" the woman starts, raising her pistol toward you.

But you're faster.

In one fluid motion, you pull out your knife and hurl it at her. It pierces through her mask and into her skull. She drops instantly, blood dripping from the blade.

The remaining three hesitate, stunned. That's all the time you need. You yank the knife from the dead woman's head and dash toward the others, slicing the nearest one's throat in a clean arc.

The man in the joker mask fumbles for his gun, but you grab the dead body beside you, using it as a shield. Then, you throw the knife again, this time hitting his chest.

He stumbles back, gasping for air, as you snatch his gun from his weakening grip. Before he can even hit the ground, you fire a shot straight into his skull.

Now, there's only one left.

The last purger, wearing a cat mask, drops to his knees and pulls the mask off, revealing a trembling man. He raises his hands in surrender, tears streaming down his face.

"P-please... spare me. I-I just wanted to purge this year," he stammers, his voice cracking.

You glare at him, the weight of your actions and emotions swirling inside you.

"How many innocent people have you killed in all the purges you've been a part of?" you ask, your tone icy.

His lip quivers. "P-probably 70—"

Before he can finish, you pull the trigger.

The gunshot echoes through the street as he collapses, lifeless.

Silence fills the street once more as you stand there, your white dress soaked in blood, surrounded by bodies. You don't know how long you've been standing there, staring at the carnage.

Then, it happens.

A soft laugh escapes your lips. It bubbles up from your throat, quiet at first, but it grows louder, sharper, until it echoes down the empty street. It's not a happy laugh. It's hollow, bitter, unhinged.

You bring a hand to your face, your fingers brushing against the blood splattered across your skin.

You really have lost yourself, haven't you? Or, did you found it now?

You hate the Purge. You hate the monsters it creates. You hate the people who thrive on it, the ones who laugh, who kill, who hurt.

So why are you here, in the middle of the night, doing the exact same thing?

Tears prick at your eyes, but they don't fall. You just stand there, your shoulders trembling as the weight of everything presses down on you. You feel nothing. And that terrifies you most of all.

You crouch down, wiping your knife on the dead woman's clothes, smearing blood across the fabric.

Your hands tremble slightly, it's not fear—it's something else. A quiet storm you can't name.

Once the blade gleams clean, you tuck it back into the thigh strap beneath your dress. Grabbing the fallen gun, you check the chamber and reload it. The satisfying click of the cocked weapon echoes as you straighten up and continue walking.

The street stretches ahead, eerily quiet except for the distant sounds of chaos—gunshots, screams, and the occasional rumble of an engine.

Three figures suddenly sprint toward you from the shadows. They glance at you, wide-eyed, as they pass by, their faces pale with fear.

Ahead of you, three figures suddenly appear from the shadows. Their faces are pale with fear as they sprint past you. One of them—a panicked old man—stumbles and grabs your arm, his grip shaky.

"Miss, don't go that way!" he says, his voice hoarse and desperate. "That group's rounding people up—they're psychos!"

His words barely register. Your gaze drifts past him, toward the direction he came from. A cold calm washes over you as he keeps tugging at your arm, pleading.

A large truck screeches to a halt in front of you, its headlights blinding. The old man panics, letting go of your arm and bolting down the road. He doesn't get far. A sharp crack rings out, and he collapses mid-stride, a bullet tearing through his back.

You don't flinch.

The truck door swings open, and several masked figures step out.

One of them grabs your arm, yanking it behind your back as another snatches the gun from your hand.

"Blessed be the New Founding Fathers of America," one of them says, leaning close to your face.

You smile. Not a kind smile—a bitter one. "Blessed be them," you whisper back.

Then, without warning, you jerk your head forward, slamming it into the man's nose. He stumbles back with a grunt of pain, clutching his face as blood pours through his fingers.

Before the others can react, you twist your arm free and yank your knife from its strap. The blade flashes in the dim light as you slice upward, catching one of them in the throat. They gargle and drop to their knees, clutching at the wound.

Another lunges at you, swinging a metal pipe. You duck under the blow, driving the knife into his ribs. He gasps, his body jolting as you twist the blade, blood spraying onto your dress.

You scream—whether it's from rage or something deeper, you're not sure.

The sound rips from your throat as you yank the knife free and stab again, and again, and again, until his body goes limp.

Behind you, the first man—the one whose nose you broke—recovers quickly. He raises his gun, aiming it directly at your back.

You're too focused, too lost in the heat of the moment to notice him.

The loud crack of gunfire fills the air, but it doesn't come from his weapon.

The man's body jerks violently as a burst of bullets tears through him, and he collapses to the ground, lifeless.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you spin around.

Your wide eyes locking onto the figure standing behind him.

"Jay," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He steps forward slowly, his shotgun still in hand. His expression is unreadable, his eyes flicking over the bodies surrounding you before settling on you.

You brace yourself for the anger you expect to see in his face. For him to yell at you, demand answers, maybe even tell you he's done with you.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he stops in front of you, his gaze softening as he raises a hand to your face. His thumb brushes gently across your cheek, wiping away the streaks of blood smeared there.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice full of worry. "Are you hurt?"

You can't speak. Your lips tremble as tears blur your vision. Slowly, your hand rises to hold his against your cheek.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. "I'm sorry for not noticing sooner that you weren't okay. I should've known."

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, and you shake your head, your tears spilling over. "W-what are you doing here?" you manage to say, your voice shaking. "It's dangerous."

Jay smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I could say the same thing to you, love," he murmurs, pulling you into a warm, protective embrace.

His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you like he's afraid to let go. You bury your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his shirt.

"I can't let my girl be out here alone on Purge Night," he whispers into your hair.

You pull back slightly, looking up at him, your smile shaky and uncertain. "Y-you're not angry?"

Jay shakes his head slowly, his warm hand cupping your face as if to anchor you. "No, baby. I'm not angry," he says softly.

Your lips tremble, the guilt clawing its way up your throat as you look into his eyes. "I... I'm a monster, Jay. Look at what I did," you whisper, your voice cracking.

His thumb gently strokes your cheek, his gaze never leaving yours. There's no judgment there, no fear—just a quiet understanding that makes your chest ache.

"I don't think I'm normal anymore, Jay," you say, your voice barely audible as tears spill freely down your face. "I don't even know what I'm feeling right now. I don't know who I am anymore."

You start to sob, the raw emotion pouring out of you like a dam breaking. Jay leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck to hold you steady.

"I love you," he whispers into the space between you. "No matter what. No matter what you've done, no matter what you want to do... I love you."

His words hit you like a wave, and your sobs come harder, your body trembling in his arms.

"You always ask if you're normal," he continues, his tone soothing as he brushes a stray tear from your cheek. "But I already told you, love. Who cares about normal? Normal doesn't matter to me. You matter to me."

His arms wrap around you tighter, pulling you against his chest.

"If this is what you need to do to heal, then I'll be here," he whispers into your ear. "And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn't say this to me. I'll always understand, love. Always. Just... don't do this again without me knowing, okay?"

You nod against his chest, your sobs muffling into his shirt.

"I'm such a—" you try to speak, but the words get caught in your throat, your cries making it impossible to finish the sentence.

Jay shushes you softly, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. "You're not. You're not anything bad, baby. You're just... hurting."

You pull back slightly, your hands clutching his shirt as you look up at him, your voice trembling. "I hate it, Jay. I hate what I've become. I'm not me anymore. It terrifies me."

His hand moves to cradle the back of your head, and he presses a soft kiss to your hair. "I know," he whispers. "But I'll be here. I'll be with you through every terrifying moment, love."

For a long moment, the two of you just stay like that—his arms holding you close, your head resting against his chest as your breathing slowly evens out. The tension in your body begins to ease, though the storm in your mind still churns.

Jay pulls back slightly, tilting his head to meet your gaze, his smile growing softer but never losing its warmth.

"Are you enjoying yourself right now?" he asks, his voice light and genuine, almost teasing.

You blink at him, surprised by the question, but the answer bubbles up inside you before you can stop it. A faint smile begins to form on your lips, something that feels both wrong and inexplicably right.

"Yes," you admit quietly, your voice steadier than before. "I think I am."

Jay's smile widens just a little, his thumb brushing against your cheek again as if to ground you.

"That's all that matters," he says softly, his voice filled with a calm acceptance that makes the tension in your chest ease.

Then, his eyes flicker toward the carnage surrounding you—the lifeless bodies, the blood that stains the street, and your hands, still trembling but steady enough to hold the knife.

"What do you want to do? Hmm?" he asks, his tone curious yet understanding, as if ready to follow wherever your answer leads.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the gun in your hands and the heat of the night pressing against your skin. Your lips curve into a determined smile, and your answer comes without hesitation.

"I want to kill purgers," you say, your voice clear and sharp, your eyes shining with a fire that you hadn't felt in years.

Jay doesn't flinch or waver at your words. Instead, he nods, stepping closer to you and holding out his shotgun. "Here," he says, his voice calm as he hands it over.

You take it, your hands steady now, and your eyes glint as you examine the weapon.

"Is this a SPAS-12?" you ask, running your fingers along the smooth barrel.

Jay chuckles softly, watching the way your gaze flickers with excitement.

"Yeah. My dad gave it to me," he replies as he takes your free hand in his.

"Come on," he says, tugging you gently toward his car. "Let's get out of here. It's dangerous to stay in one spot too long."

You follow him, practically bouncing on your heels as you intertwine your fingers with his. As the two of you approach the car, a question bubbles up, one you hadn't thought to ask before.

"Where's your dad, anyway? I've never met him," you say, glancing at him as he unlocks the driver's side door.

Jay shrugs lightly, opening the door for you.

"He's overseas," he explains as you climb in. "He's been busy. A lot of countries are starting to plan their own versions of the Purge, and he's consulting on security systems for them."

"Wow," you mutter, settling into the passenger seat as Jay slides in beside you.

He starts the car, the engine rumbling to life as he glances over at you. "You ready?"

"Is this car bulletproof?" you ask, running your hand along the interior with a raised eyebrow.

Jay smirks, shrugging. "I don't think so, but who needs bulletproof when we've got each other?"

You giggle, the sound light and unexpected, even to yourself.

As he presses the gas pedal hard, the car lurches forward, and the thrill of speed courses through you.

The windows are down, and the cool night air rushes past you as you cock the shotgun, the familiar click of the weapon sending a chill down your spine.

You lean halfway out the window, scanning the streets for purgers, your eyes narrowing when you spot a group down the road.

"Hey, fuckers!" you shout, your voice carrying across the night.

Jay glances over at you, his grin widening as he watches you. "Careful with my car, love," he teases, though there's nothing but pride in his tone.

You don't respond, too focused on your target. Raising the shotgun, you take aim and fire. The blast rings out, and one of the masked figures crumples to the ground.

Jay chuckles, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he drifts the car in a sharp circle, giving you a clear view of the rest of the group.

You take the opportunity, cocking the shotgun again and pulling the trigger, your laughter bubbling up as another purger falls.

Jay's eyes are on you the whole time.

There's a softness in his gaze, even amid the violence. A quiet love that seems to radiate from him as he smiles, the chaos of the night fading away for him.

There's just you, him, and the shared thrill of the hunt.

March 22, 4:00 AM

The two of you stand on the rooftop of an abandoned building, the city stretched out before you in ruins. Fires burn in the distance, their orange glow painting the night in an eerie light. Screams and gunshots echo faintly through the air, but up here, it almost feels quiet.

Jay's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you against him as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"When I first saw you, I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen," he says softly, his voice low in your ear.

You snort, your lips twitching into a faint smile. "I smelled like shit, Jay. I looked like skin and bones. Where's the 'pretty' in that?" you ask, a chuckle escaping you.

Jay presses his lips to your neck, his voice a murmur against your skin. "You were pretty then. You're pretty now. You've always been pretty."

"You should hate me," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant crackling of fires below. "For leaving. For running away."

Jay's grip tightened, his hands pulling you closer as his forehead pressed against the back of your head. "I could never hate you," he murmured. "Not when I know what you've been carrying."

You opened your mouth to argue, to push back

"I don't deserve you," you admitted, your voice cracking as the weight of the night caught up with you.

Jay let out a soft laugh, the sound warm and reassuring. "You don't get to decide that," he said, his tone teasing but full of affection. "That's my call, and I'm not going anywhere.

You tilt your head slightly, giving him more access, your breath hitching as he kisses the sensitive spot just below your ear. His lips linger, soft and warm, before his tongue flicks against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

A quiet moan escapes you as he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he soothes the bite with a kiss. "Jay..."

His hands begin to roam, one sliding up to cup your breast, squeezing gently, while the other dips beneath your dress. His fingers brush over the fabric of your panties, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves there.

"You're really doing this?" you sigh, half-laughing even as your body arches into his touch. "In the middle of the purge?"

Jay chuckles softly, his lips still pressed against your neck. "We're standing on a rooftop, watching the world burn," he murmurs. "Seems like the perfect time to me."

His fingers move with more purpose now, slipping past the fabric of your panties and brushing against your wet folds. You gasp, your body trembling against him as he slides one finger inside you, curling it just enough to make you bite down on your lip.

"You know," Jay whispers, his voice low and rough as his free hand kneads your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. "I'm not normal either."

You barely manage to form a response, your mind clouded by the pleasure building inside you. "W-what do you mean?"

Jay bites gently at your neck again, his lips curling into a grin. "Watching you out there... gunning down those purgers... smearing blood all over that cute little dress..." He groans, his hips pressing into you so you can feel just how hard he is.

"Fuck, it turns me on so much. You looked so beautiful. So fucking dangerous."

His confession sends a jolt of heat straight through you, and your legs almost buckle as he slides another finger inside you, his pace increasing. His other hand slips beneath the neckline of your dress, tugging it down just enough to expose your chest as he palms your bare skin.

"Jay..." you gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder as his fingers work you over, pushing deeper and curling just right.

"You're so perfect like this," he whispers, his voice breathy and filled with adoration as he watches your face twist with pleasure.

"The way your body moves, the way you moan for me... I'll never get enough of you."

His thumb brushes over your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. You grip his arms, your nails digging into his skin as your body starts to shake.

"F-fuck, Jay," you cry out, your voice muffled as he kisses your temple.

"That's it, baby," he encourages. "Let go for me. Let me see you lose yourself."

You're barely holding on, your body trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

The pressure inside you builds and builds until it snaps, a wave of heat and pleasure crashing over you as your orgasm takes hold.

You cry out, your hips bucking against his hand as you ride out the high, your walls clenching around his fingers. Jay doesn't stop, his movements gentle now as he works you through it, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder.

When the aftershocks finally subside, you collapse back against him, your chest rising and falling as you catch your breath. Jay wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close as he presses a kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice soft and sincere. "Now, let me eat."

Before you can respond, he gently turns you, guiding your back to the cool metal railing. His hands are steady on your waist

"Park Jongseong!"

He crouched, his teeth hooking the edge of your panties and dragging them down, baring you inch by inch. The fabric pooled at your knees before his face dove between your thighs, his tongue parting you

He worked his way up to your clit, licking slow, teasing circles that made your knees threaten to buckle.

His grip tightened on your waist, firm hands pulling you closer, urging your hips to rock against his face.

Your right leg lifted, hooking over his shoulder for balance, your fingers threading into his hair to anchor yourself. You tugged, hard, grinding yourself against him. His groan reverberated through you, the vibrations sending shockwaves straight to your core.

"Jongseong!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as the intensity overwhelmed you. Your grip on his hair tightened, your body trembling.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you breathless and desperate.

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, pushing you down. You hit the rough ground with a muted thud, your palms scraping against the coarse surface.

You barely had time to process the sensation before his hands were on your hips, lifting you up.

"Need to be inside you, baby."

You heard him groan softly, the sound of him stroking himself before he pressed against your entrance.

The stretch as he slid inside you was slow, deliberate, every inch a sensation that left you gasping. You clenched around him instinctively, earning a hiss from him as he threw his head back, savoring the feeling.

"Faster," you whimpered, your voice trembling with need. Your hands scrambled to reach his, gripping the one on your waist.

"My baby wants more?" he laughed, a dark, almost mocking edge to his tone.

Before you could answer, he gathered your wrists in one hand, pulling them behind your back and holding them there. His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

You screamed, your voice raw, your body pliant in his grasp.

He didn't stop, didn't relent, even as your cries turned to desperate whines. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling violently. But just as you were about to fall over, his movements faltered.

"No!" you cried out, shaking in his hold, trying to move, to chase the release that hovered just out of reach. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pressing you down firmly.

"Don't move," Jay ordered, his voice low and commanding. "I'm still enjoying the view."

You sobbed, your body trembling, your desperation mounting. "Please! I'll be good, I swear, please!"

He growled low in his throat, his hips slamming forward again, harder, rougher, making you cry out.

Gunshots echoed faintly in the background, but they felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered was the man above you, his hands pinning you down, his movements relentless.

Your mouth fell open as you felt him twitch inside you, his pace faltering before he suddenly flipped you onto your back. Your legs went limp, draped over his shoulders as he sank into you again, his face hovering inches from yours.

Your focus locked on him, the way his brows knit together, the way his jaw clenched, the way his sweat-dampened hair clung to his forehead. He was beautiful in his rawness, primal and consuming.

"I wanna cum," you whimpered, your hand reaching for your clit, desperate for release, but he slapped it away with a sharp look.

"Hold it, love," he commanded, his breath ragged. He leaned down, his mouth latching onto your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he bit down, hard.

You screamed, tears streaming down your face as your body writhed beneath him.

"Can't hold it anymore," you sobbed, shaking your head, your pleas growing more desperate.

"Just a little longer," he whispered, his voice a strained plea of his own. His thumb found your clit, pressing down in firm, maddening circles, even as his hips drove into you faster, harder.

The moment came like a tidal wave, crashing through you with a force that left you breathless, your body spasming around him.

"A-ah fuck!" you screamed, your voice breaking.

His rhythm faltered as you tightened around him, pulling him over the edge with you. He buried himself deep, his groan low and guttural as he came, filling you completely.

"Jay, can't!" you whimpered, your body oversensitive, trembling as he continued to move, chasing the last echoes of his high.

"Fuck, I love you," he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion

Finally, he stilled, collapsing beside you. His arm looped around your waist, pulling you close.

"You're not falling asleep on me, are you?" he teased, his voice soft.

"Tired," you mumbled, pouting with your eyes half-closed.

"What happened to killing purgers all night?" he asked, his tone light, teasing.

You cracked one eye open to glare at him. "It's morning," you grumbled.

Jay chuckled, his fingers gently smoothing down your dress as best as he could. His eyes lingered on you, softening as you murmured sleepily against his ear.

"I wanna kill Ms. Wilson next year," you whispered, your voice faint.

His lips curved into a small, knowing smile. He kissed your forehead softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Anything for you, love."

You hummed in response, your body melting further into his hold. "I hate how the Purge is so right," you mumbled, your words fading into the quiet dawn. "It really did cleanse my soul."

March 22, 6:45 AM

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a pale golden glow over the city. The streets were eerily still, a grim quiet settling over the aftermath of the Purge.

Jay carried you carefully to his car, his movements slow and deliberate as he set you down in the passenger seat. For a moment, he lingered, crouching beside you. His hand brushed a stray strand of hair from your cheek, his fingers ghosting over your peaceful expression.

You had found yourself, hadn’t you? Maybe not in the way most people would expect, but in a way that felt undeniably true to you.

Your eyelashes fluttered, your eyes opening just enough to glance at him groggily. "What time is it?"

"6:45," Jay replied softly, his voice low. "The Purge is almost over."

You nodded weakly, your head tilting back against the seat as your eyes drifted closed again. But before sleep could take you, they snapped open once more, and you turned your head to him.

"Why? What’s wrong?" Jay asked, his voice laced with gentle concern.

You smiled sweetly, your lips curving in a way that made his heart skip.

"Kiss me."

His lips twitched into a chuckle, but he leaned down without hesitation, pressing his lips to yours.

"I love you," you whispered as your eyes closed again, this time surrendering completely to sleep.

"I love you too," Jay echoed, his voice just above a whisper. His hand lingered on your cheek for a moment longer before he straightened up, gripping the steering wheel as he started the car.

The streets stretched out before him, empty and silent now, save for the faint echoes of distant sirens. The Purge had ended.

Jay chuckled softly to himself, glancing over at your sleeping form in the passenger seat. You looked so peaceful now, your lips slightly parted, your head resting against the window. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, the two of you had been surrounded by blood.

"Next year, huh?" he murmured under his breath, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Jay definitely needed to watch his back next year.

But with you by his side, what could any purger do?

There was no telling what the two of you were capable of.

taglist: @fancypeacepersona, @tunafishyfishylike

#enhypen #the purge au #park jongseong #jay fanfic #ni-ki #heesung #jake #sunoo #enhypen fic #jay smut #jungwon #sunghoon #jay x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen au #enhypen jay fanfic

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thebunnednun · 2 days ago

Text

Not On My Watch!

Pairing: Aged up!ProHero!Husband!Katsuki Bakugou x Pro hero!Wife!Reader

Warning: MDNI!!! Extreme Spice 18+, Wc: 20K+, No ageless blogs!

Synopsis: Katsuki can't sit still after seeing a video of you, his WIFE, getting her feet massaged by another man.

Tw: Sweet then spicy, lots of making out, pet names smut, free use, slight body worship, unprotected vaginal sex, oral, sexy slave mention, (both f! & m! recieving/giving), vaginal fingering, pussy play, multiple orgasms (both), ass play, groping, biting, creampie, dumbification, slight breeding mention, predictor and prey, anal, spanking, petnames - mdni (like my whole tumblr), cursing, dirty talk, care and love is given.

You've been warned.

When I say aged up I mean mid 20's early thirties.

Inspired by this short, Give her some love too plz, she's so funny<3

Read the note below afterwards. Lets get into it.

Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the bedroom. You stirred slowly, the warmth of the covers cocooning you in a comforting embrace. As you blinked away the remnants of sleep, you became aware of the quiet hum of the world outside. Stretching lazily, your hand reached out to the other side of the bed—only to find it empty.

A small, knowing smile crept onto your lips.

The sheets were cool to the touch, a clear sign that Katsuki had left early. Yet, the faint scent of his caramel lingered in the air, and you were certain you’d been given a kiss goodbye before he slipped out for his shift. It was just like him to leave quietly, not wanting to disturb your much-needed rest after the rough night you’d had.

You and Katsuki have been married for just shy of a year, a whirlwind romance culminating in a partnership that felt as natural as breathing. Life as a pro hero was demanding, but the rough shift you had last night was enough to leave you craving a bit of solace and pampering. Your body ached in places you’d forgotten could ache, and your mind was still clouded with the remnants of exhaustion.

Glancing around the room, your gaze drifting over the familiar details that made up your shared space. The nightstand on his side held a few scattered items. His phone charger, a half-empty bottle of water, and the book you'd convinced him to start reading—though he'd grumbled about it, he was already five chapters in. On your side, a small vase of fresh flowers brightened the room, a surprise Katsuki had brought home just days ago.

The bedroom was a reflection of your life together—simple yet filled with thoughtful touches. The neutral tones of the bedding were offset by pops of color from the pillows and the soft throw blanket draped over the chair in the corner. The faintest scent of lemons drifted from the open window, mingling with the crisp, clean air of the early day.

You sighed contentedly, sinking back into the pillows for a moment longer. The day stretched ahead, filled with the promise of relaxation and self-care. You fumbled around the sheets for a moment before finding and scrolling through your phone. The girls had recommended a new nail salon that recently opened downtown, promising it was the perfect place to unwind. It sounded like exactly what you needed. With a few quick taps, you shot a text to Katsuki.

Princess Peach: I’m heading to the new nail salon the girls told me about. It's my day off, so I'll meet you after your shift. I love you!

You leaned back against the pillows, waiting for his reply. It didn’t take long.

Teddy Bear: Fine with me. Send the amount when you’re close to done.

Teddy Bear: Love you too.

A soft smile tugged at your lips. Even through the screen, his gruffness had a way of making you feel cared for. You could practically hear the way his voice softened just at the end, a rare tenderness he reserved only for you. You stretched languidly under the plush covers, the scent of fresh sheets wafting through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of a hearty breakfast.

The soft cocoon of the bed beckoned you to stay, but the promise of a new day lured you from its embrace. Stretching luxuriously, you swung your legs over the edge, a smile curling on your lips as your eyes landed on the familiar pair below—your favorite bunny slippers, perfectly placed right where Katsuki knew your feet would touch the floor. The sight of them warmed your heart, a simple yet thoughtful gesture that never failed to remind you of his care.

Slipping your feet into the plush slippers, you padded across the room, the cool hardwood floor transitioning to the soft rug beneath your toes. You reached for your robe—a cherry red one that you loved—draped neatly over the armchair by the window. Wrapping it snugly around yourself, you headed towards the bathroom, the early morning light spilling in through the windows casting a gentle glow across the room.

The bathroom mirrored the tranquil elegance of the bedroom, with its sleek marble countertops and soft, ambient lighting. You grabbed your toothbrush, applying a dab of minty toothpaste before brushing your teeth. The refreshing burst of mint awakened your senses, each stroke a familiar routine preparing you for the day ahead.

Finished, you made your way down the hallway, the sound of your slippers muffled against the polished wood floors. The house was a sanctuary of calm and order, and as you moved through it, the faint scent of caramel and lemons drifted through the air, a delightful blend that made you breathe deeply, savoring the homey aroma.

Descending the luxury staircase, each step a smooth glide, you were greeted by the sight of your home sparkling clean, every surface gleaming under the morning sun. It was as if the house itself had been rejuvenated overnight. You reached the bottom of the stairs and turned left, stepping into the large living room. The space was a testament to your combined tastes, a harmonious blend of comfort and style.

Every detail had been meticulously curated. The soft, oversized couches adorned with plush throw pillows in your favorite shades; the coffee table, a sleek bookshelf holding a few well-loved novels and a vase of fresh flowers; the walls lined with art pieces and pictures that shared stories of your adventures together. The curtains and blinds had been drawn open, allowing the sunlight to pour in through every window, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. The light danced across the floor, creating shifting patterns that added an almost ethereal beauty to the scene.

You took a moment to bask in the tranquility, the serene atmosphere filling you with a sense of gratitude. It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the love and care that filled your home, that you felt truly at peace.

Leaving the living room, you made your way to the heart of the house: Suki’s kitchen. This space, unlike the others, was a reflection of Katsuki’s meticulous tastes. Every element, from the colors to the layout, bore his signature style and passion for precision.

The kitchen was a modern marvel of design and functionality. The counters were crafted from sleek black and white marble, their polished surfaces gleaming under the soft glow of the high ceiling lights you had insisted upon—strategically placed to prevent anyone from bumping their head. The deep oak wood cabinets, a rich contrast against the lighter counters, lined the walls, offering ample storage space while adding a touch of rustic warmth.

Appliances gleamed in their stainless steel glory, each one carefully chosen for its efficiency and aesthetic appeal. There were double ovens built seamlessly into the wall, perfect for Katsuki’s ambitious culinary endeavors. Two large sinks sat on opposite ends of the room, each with a state-of-the-art faucet, allowing for the kind of multitasking that your husband thrived on. Off to the side, a pre-kitchen area was tucked away, an extension for more intricate prep work or storing additional cookware.

The pantry was a thing of beauty, fully stocked and alphabetized, a testament to Katsuki’s need for order. Every item had its place, and the fridge—oh, the fridge—was a sleek, modern design that allowed you to see inside without opening it, displaying its contents like a prized collection. It was stocked to perfection, everything arranged just so, with little notes stuck here and there, a system you both found oddly satisfying.

As you moved through the kitchen, you couldn’t help but remember the construction phase. The flurry of contractors and delivery teams bustling about, bringing in appliances and asking a stream of questions. Each time, you’d simply pointed to your scowling husband, letting them know it was his call. His initial gruffness was often met with hesitation, but you knew better. He might have stomped around, inspecting every detail with a critical eye, grumbling under his breath, but you stayed by his side. Your presence eased his social anxiety, allowing him to communicate on creating the space he had envisioned.

He was your gremlin, your wonderfully stubborn, exacting gremlin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Every detail of this kitchen was a testament to his love for perfection, and standing here now, in the heart of your home, you felt a wave of affection for the man who had poured his heart into making this space a sanctuary. A small smile played on your lips as you noticed the neat plate left on the stove, a thoughtful note from Katsuki propped up against the fridge.

Use the toaster oven to reheat your food so it doesn’t ruin the taste. See you soon. - K

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing over the words before you reached for the plate. Despite Katsuki’s well-meaning instructions, you decided to eat the food lukewarm, not wanting to lose the initial burst of flavor. A little mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you purposefully smudged a bit of syrup on the microwave door,(The very one you had to fight tooth and nail for!) Knowing he would sense something amiss in this kitchen before he even stepped through the door and would get worked up until he realized what happened.

Breakfast satisfied and your mind already envisioning the day ahead, you sauntered back up the stairs and into the bathroom. The warm water cascaded over your body, washing away the remnants of fatigue from the previous night's shift. You reveled in the tranquility, the gentle hum of the water a soothing backdrop to your thoughts.

Wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel, you padded over to the walk-in closet, your eyes lighting up at the sight of your favorite two-piece sweat suit. The soft fabric hugged you comfortably, a perfect blend of style and ease. You grabbed your purse, the anticipation of a pampering session at the new nail salon buzzing in your veins.

Today was your day, and you were ready to indulge in it fully.

You grabbed your Juicy Couture purse from its spot by the door, the soft leather gleaming under the light as you slung it over your shoulder. A moment of contemplation followed as you pondered which car to take—your sleek options lined up in the garage, a reflection of both yours and Katsuki's tastes. With a playful smile, you decided on the pearl white BMW, its elegant curves and smooth handling making it the perfect choice for the day.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you reveled in the luxurious feel of the leather against your skin, the familiar hum of the engine purring to life beneath your fingers. The drive to your favorite café was quick and leisurely, the morning sun casting a warm glow over the streets. You pulled into the drive-thru, placing your order with a smile, and soon enough, a perfectly crafted drink was in your hands, the aroma rich and inviting.

With your drink in the cup holder, you headed toward the upscale salon and mall area, finding a convenient spot in the parking lot. Leaning back in your seat, you sipped your drink leisurely, the peaceful ambiance of the morning settling over you. The salon, with its chic exterior and promise of indulgence, awaited just beyond. Savoring the last few moments of quiet, you allowed yourself to relax fully, the anticipation of the pampering session making the day feel all the more luxurious.

Omg, the girls weren’t lying.

The salon was a haven of tranquility, a serene escape from the relentless pace of hero duties—a sanctuary where the burdens of the day could be set aside, even if just for a while. As you stepped inside, the soothing scent of lavender and chamomile wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, instantly easing the tension in your shoulders. The interior exuded understated elegance, with soft, muted tones that created a calming atmosphere. The decor was a harmonious blend of chic and cozy, featuring pastel walls, plush chairs, and ambient lighting that bathed the room in a soft, inviting glow. Every detail was thoughtfully curated to evoke a sense of peace and relaxation.

A warm smile from the receptionist greeted you, and soon you were escorted to a luxurious chair. As you sank into the plush seat, a technician approached with a menu of beverages. You selected a refreshing iced cherry soda, the vibrant hot pink drink a perfect complement to the tranquil surroundings. The cool, sweet flavor was a delightful contrast to the warmth of the spa treatments awaiting you, a sensory experience that promised rejuvenation.

Settling in, you allowed yourself to be enveloped by the calm ambiance. The gentle hum of quiet conversations and soft music provided a soothing backdrop as you prepared to indulge in this well-deserved moment of self-care.

The experience was nothing short of divine. The nail technician's gentle hands worked wonders, massaging your tired fingers and shaping your nails with meticulous care. You found yourself recording snippets of the process, a habit born from those middle school days when you and Denki had decided to try your hand at becoming influencers. Despite the demanding life of a pro hero, you still cherished these moments of creativity, sharing slices of your life with a loyal following.

The soft hum of conversation, the soothing music, and the indulgence of the pampering session left you in a state of bliss. You felt rejuvenated, every muscle relaxed, and a newfound energy coursing through your veins.

As you shifted to the pedicure station, you were greeted by a young man with a friendly smile. His easy demeanor put you at ease as you settled into the comfortable chair. When you asked for a cute French tip, he nodded confidently, assuring you he could handle it. You leaned back, savoring the calm atmosphere, a book open in your lap as he got to work.

The salon was mostly empty, allowing for a tranquil silence to settle over the space. You alternated between reading and capturing small moments on your phone, careful not to distract the young man too much. His focus was intense, and his movements were precise, a testament to his skill.

However, it wasn’t long before you noticed something… different.

His hands moved with expert precision, but the way he was massaging your feet felt more akin to a deep tissue massage than a standard pedicure. His fingers pressed into the arches of your feet, kneading away tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying. The strength in his grip was undeniable, and you could see the muscles in his forearms flexing beneath his company t-shirt as he worked with dedication.

A blush crept up your neck, and you quickly switched your phone’s camera to record your reaction. Your face, caught between flustered and perplexed, filled the screen. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but the slight widening of your eyes and the subtle twitch of your lips betrayed your surprise.

"Y’all, why is this man rubbing my feet like I don’t have a husband!"

Is what you captioned the video with a playful smirk before sending it off to the girls' group chat, hoping to share the humorous moment with your friends. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and tried to focus on your book, determined to relax despite the unexpectedly thorough massage.

What you didn’t realize, however, was that in your haste, you had accidentally sent the video to Katsuki.

Who, unbeknownst to you, was just finishing up his morning shift.

The locker room buzzed with the usual post-training banter, laughter echoing off the walls as the group of friends wrapped up their routines. Katsuki was methodically stowing his gear, his face set in a determined scowl as he prepared to clock out for his half-day. The hum of casual conversation filled the space, Denki lounging nearby with Katsuki's phone in hand as he played Crossy road.

A notification lit up Katsuki’s screen, and Denki, ever the curious one, leaned over his chair with a sly grin. "Hey, man, that’s from your wife!" Denki said, his eyes gleaming with intrigue as he caught a glimpse of the video thumbnail.

Sero and Mina, not ones to miss out on the fun, sidled up next to Denki. "Oooo," they chorused teasingly, exchanging grins as Mina leaned closer to get a better look. Katsuki’s eyes narrowed, slamming his locker door shut with a decisive clang.

"Don’t be weird," Katsuki growled, his voice low and edged with annoyance.

His sharp eyes narrowed as Kami opened the message, the video playing in his hand. The sight of the young man’s hands on your feet, combined with your flustered expression and teasing caption, sent a surge of possessiveness through him.

Katsuki’s lips curled into a familiar scowl, the kind that sent shivers down the spines of villains. The familiar itch to protect and assert making his steps quicker as he made his way out. He knew you were at the salon, enjoying your day off, but now he had a sudden, burning need to make his presence known.

He grabbed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, but not before Denki pulled his own phone out and made quick work of showing the video to Mina.

She squealed in delight, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "She’s at that salon! The one we recommended to her!" Mina said, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

Kirishima, who had been tying his shoes nearby, perked up at the mention. "Do they do pedicures?" he asked, his tone curious. He caught the raised eyebrow from Sero and held up his hands defensively.

"Hey, good foot hygiene is important for men too!"

Sero snickered, but nodded in agreement. "You got a point."

Katsuki, meanwhile, was grumbling under his breath, his patience thinning with each passing second. The thought of someone else touching you, coupled with the playful video you’d sent, made his protective instincts flare.

"Mina, where’s the salon?" he demanded, his voice sharp and urgent.

Denki, ever helpful, fished out the name from the video you’d posted on your story before she could ask why. He sent it over without missing a beat, the group watching with mild amusement as Katsuki’s scowl deepened.

"I’ll see you all tomorrow," Katsuki barked, his tone leaving no room for discussion as he turned on his heel and strode out of the locker room. Kirishima’s brows shot up, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Whoa. He never says goodbye like that," he remarked, glancing at the others.

Sero crossed his arms, a thoughtful look on his face. "Something serious must be happening," he mused, nodding toward the door Katsuki had just stormed through. Mina clasped her hands together, her grin mischievous. "Whatever it is, you know Bakugo’s gonna handle it in his own way." Denki snickered, slinging an arm around Kirishima’s shoulders. "Guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Hope the salon survives Katsuki’s visit."

“Maybe he’s finally gonna take care of those dogs of his.”

“Es un animal con ropa puesta.”

The group shared a laugh, each one picturing the storm that was sure to unfold with Katsuki on a mission.

—

The hum of the salon was soothing, a gentle rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of tools as the nail technicians worked their magic.

You were reclining comfortably, your attention drifting between the subtle aroma of the lavender-scented air and the meticulous artistry unfolding before you. The young nail technician was expertly applying a baby pink French tip to your nails, each stroke so precise it felt as if he’d spent a lifetime mastering the craft. A small crowd of other technicians gathered nearby, watching with quiet admiration as he worked.

You were mid-way through admiring his steady hand when the faint chime of the doorbell caught your ear. At first, it barely registered, your focus lingering on the soft curves of the polish being applied. But then, the unmistakable sound of heavy boots hitting the tiled floor reverberated through the salon, and a shift in the atmosphere had you glancing up.

There, framed in the doorway, stood your husband, Katsuki Bakugo, in all his formidable glory. His sharp gaze, intense and unwavering, locked onto you instantly. The tight grey T-shirt stretched over his sculpted frame and dark grey jeans—no doubt a product of Best Jeanist's influence—fit him perfectly, accentuating his powerful build. A black jacket thrown over his shoulders completed the look, giving him an effortlessly cool demeanor. His expression, however, was anything but relaxed.

Your heart skipped a beat as you waved at him, a warm smile lighting up your face. "Hi, pookie!" you called out, your voice sweet and affectionate.

"Hi," Katsuki grumbled, his deep voice softened only slightly as his eyes remained fixed on you. He spared a brief glance at the young nail technician, whose confusion was evident as he turned to face the towering figure now standing behind him. The technician quickly returned to his work, muttering something about the session being almost done and how it was a pleasure working with you.

You thanked him for the lovely design, your eyes twinkling with appreciation before turning back to Katsuki, a pout forming on your lips. "Come here," you beckoned, wondering why you hadn’t yet been wrapped in one of his warm, grounding embraces.

Katsuki didn’t hesitate. In a few swift strides, he was by your side, his arms encircling you as he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep, fervent kiss. The world seemed to blur at the edges, your book, Juicy Couture purse, and phone almost slipping from your grasp as his intensity overwhelmed you. His lips were demanding yet tender, drawing out a soft sigh from you before he pulled back just enough to plant two more kisses on your now-flushed lips.

His hand smoothed over your hair, his touch gentle and grounding. "Ya wanna get your hair done too while I hit the grocery store?" he asked, his voice gruff but laced with a softer undertone meant only for you.

You blinked up at him, nodding slowly. "Do you have a specific style in mind?" you asked, curious about his sudden suggestion.

Katsuki shrugged, his thumb brushing along your cheek. "I love your natural hair. If ya wanna go for that, do it. But if yer thinking about something different, go for it." His tone was casual, but the sincerity in his words made your heart swell.

You chuckled softly, recounting that the two of you had an event later in the week. "Maybe I should get a blowout," you mused, already imagining the sleek, polished look.

Without a word, Katsuki pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket and slipped it into your purse, his actions swift and without fanfare. "Get whatever ya want," he said simply, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of affection and determination as he settled into a nearby chair, crossing his arms as if staking his claim on the moment.

You smiled, a warmth spreading through you as you savored his gesture. Katsuki had a way of making you feel cherished and understood, even in the simplest acts. The salon might have been an oasis of calm, but with him there,

It felt like home.

The nail technician returned with a bottle of lotion, his demeanor professional yet gentle as he began applying it to your feet and legs. The soothing motions were a balm for your tired muscles, and you sighed softly, leaning back into the plush chair. Your slightly rolled-up pants exposed just enough for the technician to work efficiently, but the moment Katsuki’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, you knew things were about to change.

Katsuki shifted in his seat, his gaze locked on the young man’s hands as they moved over your skin. His fists clenched, the tension radiating from him like an impending storm. Finally, he stood, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the technician, who glanced up in surprise.

“Move,” Katsuki ordered, his voice low but unmistakably firm. He didn’t give the younger man time to argue or even process the command before reaching for the bottle of lotion himself.

The nail tech stepped back, his face flushed with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. He mumbled a quick, “Of course,” before retreating a few steps, his eyes darting nervously between you and Katsuki.

Your face heated up as well, caught between amusement and mortification as Katsuki squirted some lotion into his hands, his movements precise and purposeful.

He knelt in front of you, carefully lifting your foot onto his knee, your leg almost touching his clothed chest, and began massaging the lotion into your skin with a familiarity and expertise that only he possessed. His fingers worked magic, kneading away the stress and tension with firm but tender strokes. His ears turned a deep red, betraying his effort to maintain a stoic facade, and he resolutely avoided meeting your gaze.

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest as his touch sends waves of warmth through you.

Katsuki was thorough, his concentration evident as he ensured every inch of your foot and leg was cared for, before moving to the other leg. His broad hands made the task seem effortless, and yet you could see the faint tension in his shoulders as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

When he finished, Katsuki reached for the little foam flip-flops, placing them delicately on the floor. He gathered your book, purse, and phone, his actions smooth and efficient. Then, with a gentleness that contrasted with his earlier intensity, he took both of your hands in his, helping you to your feet and guiding you into the flip-flops.

He handed you your belongings momentarily before excusing himself to wash his hands at the nearby sink. You stood there, still somewhat dazed, before turning to the young nail tech with a smile. Digging into your purse, you pulled out a $25 tip, handing it to him with a sincere thank you. He bowed deeply, his face still tinged with color as he expressed his gratitude.

You waddled over to the reception desk, the soft padding of the flip-flops muffling your steps. The receptionist greeted you with a warm smile, and just as you were about to pull out your wallet, Katsuki was there, his platinum black card already in hand. He passed it to the receptionist with a quiet, “Here,” and added a $10 tip to her as well. You smiled, pulling out another $30 to tip the first nail tech before expressing your thanks for the excellent service.

As the receptionist and technicians wished you a good day, you turned to find Katsuki already holding the door open, his gaze softening as he reached for your purse and book. You handed them over without hesitation, your heart fluttering at the small, protective gestures that were so uniquely him.

Before you could take another step, Katsuki scooped you up effortlessly, one arm beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. He held you close, his familiar warmth seeping into you as he stepped outside into the crisp early afternoon air. His stride was purposeful, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of affection as he carried you toward the car, every bit the overprotective, loving husband you adored.

As Katsuki carried you towards the car, he maneuvered effortlessly, balancing you with one arm as he reached for the passenger door handle with the other. The door swung open, but before he could set you down, your hands found their way to his head, fingers threading through his ash-blond hair in that tender, familiar way only you could manage.

Your soft touch was magic against his scalp, a soothing caress that sent waves of warmth radiating through his body. Katsuki felt the tingles ripple along his nerves, the sensation making his breath hitch as his knees threatened to buckle under the blissful spell you wove. His face, pressed against your tummy for a fleeting moment, grew hot, a telltale flush that you felt even through the fabric of your clothes.

Carefully, he placed you inside the car, the motion deliberate as he tucked you into the seat, his hands lingering just a second longer than necessary. You felt the heat emanating from him, a gentle reminder of his vulnerability in your presence. He leaned over to buckle your seatbelt, his fingers brushing against you with the lightest touch.

You cupped his face, his skin warm beneath your palms, and leaned in, brushing your nose against his in a soft Eskimo kiss. Katsuki closed his eyes, leaning into the tender gesture, returning it with a gentleness that made your heart ache in the best way. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes before making his way around the car to the driver’s seat.

As he slid into his seat, you seized the moment, quickly applying a layer of your favorite strawberry lip gloss. The sweet scent filled the air as you prepped yourself for what you knew was coming. The instant he buckled in, you pounced.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a deep, fervent kiss that left him momentarily stunned. Katsuki’s eyes widened in surprise at your sudden burst of strength and passion, but he quickly melted into it, his lips moving against yours with an equal hunger. He let out a low, muffled sound of approval, his hands finding your waist as he unbuckled your seatbelt, giving you the freedom to shift closer.

You moved fluidly, swinging a leg over to straddle him, your knees resting on either side of his hips as you settled into his lap. His hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back and gripping your waist firmly, as if grounding himself in the moment. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your chest, syncing with your own as the kiss deepened, both of you lost in the electrifying connection.

Katsuki leaned back into the seat, pulling you with him, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted his head to better meet your lips. His breath was hot against your skin, mingling with the faint taste of strawberry from your gloss. You felt his muscles tense beneath your touch, a subtle reminder of the strength he held, though in this moment, he seemed entirely at your mercy.

Fucking delicious.

The world outside the car faded away, leaving only the cocoon of intimacy you shared, every kiss, every touch a testament to the deep bond between you.

Katsuki’s grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your sides with a possessive fervor that sent a thrill shooting through your body. His lips moved with urgency now, a heady mix of passion and need, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands, still cradling his face, slid down to his shoulders, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt, a reminder of the raw power he carried so effortlessly.

You arched your lower back, pressing yourself closer, eliciting a low growl from deep within his chest. The sound vibrated against your skin, stirring something primal within you. Katsuki's hands roamed lower, one slipping under the hem of your shirt to splay across the bare skin of your lower back, his touch hot and electric. He pulled you even closer, his breath coming in ragged gasps between fervent kisses.

The intensity grew as you shifted in his lap, your hips rocking against him, drawing a sharp intake of breath from Katsuki. His hands roamed freely now, one sliding up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he gazed at you with a heat that made your heart race. The other hand slipped lower, gripping your thigh with a firmness that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You’re driving me crazy," he murmured against your lips, his voice husky, laced with desire. The raw honesty in his words ignited something fierce within you, your body responding instinctively as you leaned in to capture his lips once more, your kiss deeper, more demanding.

“I know!~”

Katsuki shifts beneath you, his hands sliding under your thighs as he lifts you slightly, adjusting your position to press you against him even more intimately. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heart pounding in time with yours, the air between you thick with unspoken need.

Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging gently, and he groans, the sound low and primal, sending a ripple of excitement through you. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth grazing just enough to send a delicious jolt of sensation, before soothing the spot with a gentle flick of his tongue. The contrast was intoxicating, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

"Goddamn, baby, you’re perfect," he whispered, his lips trailing along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You gasped, your body arching into his touch, every nerve ending alight with sensation. His hands moved again, this time slipping under your shirt, his fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers cascading down your body.

"Suki," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of need and anticipation. His name on your lips was all the encouragement he needed as he claimed your mouth once more, the kiss deep and consuming, as if he wanted to devour every inch of you. His hands explored with a confidence and familiarity that left you dizzy, your body responding to his touch as if it were second nature.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just you and Katsuki, lost in each other, the world outside forgotten as the heat between you intensified, leaving you both breathless and utterly consumed.

So you decided to have some fun.

You pull back, your hands gently but firmly pushing Katsuki back into the chair. His deep vermillion eyes widen slightly, a mix of surprise and confusion flickering across his face. He stays still for a moment, trying to process your sudden change in demeanor, before narrowing his eyes and attempting to rise again.

So you push his big bodied ass back down.

Katsuki blinked, still dazed as he found himself pressed back against the seat, your hands firmly on his chest. His eyes search yours, flickering with a mix of confusion, frustration, and something else—something sad. His lips parted as if to speak, but you beat him to it, your voice soft yet teasing.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, your smile playful as you gently pushed him back again when he tried to sit up. His brows furrowed, and he blinked at you, clearly perplexed by your sudden shift in mood.

“Hah?!” he finally managed, his tone edged with irritation, though the confusion remained.

His reaction is sharp, but there's an undertone of bewilderment as he searches your face for answers, clearly unprepared for your unexpected move.

You tilted your head, keeping your smile intact as you poked his cheek gently. “Why are you acting more gremlin-ish than usual? Does this have anything to do with that video I accidentally sent you?”

His gaze sharpened, and he scoffed, turning his head away from you. “Tch, no.” His arms crossed over his chest in a defensive gesture, a barrier between him and the vulnerability you were nudging at.

“Come on, Kats, don’t be like this,” you coaxed, your fingers continuing to poke and prod his face, knowing you were one of the few people he’d ever let touch him like this. You press your first fingers into the soft squish of his apple cheeks before gently tracing over his scar. Katsuki’s jaw tenses, but before you can push further, his hand shoots out, swift as a viper, snatching you up in one fluid motion.

With surprising ease, he shifted you beside him, laying you down in the cramped space of the driver seat, pinning you with his gaze as he hovered slightly over you. His voice low, eyes scanning your face as if reading your every thought.

“Ya wanna go home now or get yer hair done?”

You pouted, your hands resting on his chest and forearms. “Why can’t you just communicate when it’s obvious you were a little jealous?”

His thumbs pressed into the soft spot on your hip, a subtle reminder of just how dangerous this territory was. His smirk, however, was sharp and knowing.

“You wanna tell me now, or get nothing when we get home?” you teased, your voice a playful challenge.

His eyes narrowed, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he leaned forward.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, try it,” you dared, your grin widening as you watched him wrestle with himself. His gaze flicked back to you, hesitant but defiant. Finally, he huffed, the blush deepening.

“I didn’t like that other man touching all over my wife,” he admitted, his voice gruff, the words almost sticking in his throat.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that bubbled up. “Katsuki, he wasn’t touching all over me,” you corrected gently. “And I’m not letting up until you look at me.” Reluctantly, he met your gaze, his blush not fading as he sighed.

“Hi,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice light, affectionate. Leaning up, you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him close.

“You’re such a cute baby girl when you’re jealous.”

His groan was immediate, a low, rumbling sound as he let his head fall onto your shoulder. “That killed it,” he grumbled, his hands finding your waist as he flipped you over onto him. “You’ve got two choices—here or yer hair appointment.”

You giggled, pressing your palms against his chest. “Katsuki, we can’t do ‘that’ here.”

“Why not?” he challenged, his fingers tracing the smooth skin of your back and stomach, his hands hot against you.

“For one, it’s public,” you pointed out, shivering as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath warm against your pulse.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, his mouth continuing its path, sending little jolts of pleasure through you.

“And two,” you continued, your voice breathy, “someone could see us and make a report.”

That, at least, made him pause.

He huffed, frustrated, before burying his face in your neck, his arms tightening around you in a possessive hug. You stroked his hair gently, your fingers threading through the soft strands. “Aw, you big baby,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

His lips curled into a faint smirk against your skin.

“Hey! No pinching!” you squeaked, feeling the mischievous squeeze on your butt.

“You make it too easy,” he teased, his voice low and warm, his hands settling into a gentler hold as he nuzzled against you, content to bask in your presence despite the lingering frustration.

You pulled back from the kiss, gazing into Katsuki’s eyes, your heart swelling with affection. “You make my life easy,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of gratitude. “Thank you for always taking care of me and being such a good husband.”

A warm smile tugged at Katsuki’s lips, and before you could even process, he was kissing you again. This time, it was more tender, more loving. His left hand cupped your cheek, his touch gentle as he leaned into the kiss, his lips molding against yours with a careful, almost reverent pressure. You felt his right arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer, securing you against him, not an ounce of space between your bodies.

Your fingers naturally found their way to his chest, resting over his quickly beating heart. You could feel the steady, fast thrum beneath your fingertips as you traced the spot, watching as he let out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your lips.

You sank down into his lap, moving slowly, deliberately, your body settling firmly against his. You tangled your fingers into his soft, spiky hair, feeling the strands between your fingers as you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into the feeling of him beneath you. Your breath evened out, and you let your forehead rest against his, the space between your hearts closing as you intertwined your left hand with his right. You could feel the steady pulse of his heartbeat in his fingertips, and it matched the rhythm of your own.

“Thank you for lettin' me take care of you,” he whispered, his voice hushed and almost reverent.

You stayed like that, your foreheads touching, breaths mingling as time seemed to stand still. You couldn’t help the small, contented smile that tugged at your lips, your fingers lightly tracing the veins running through his hand. There was something so intimate in that simple gesture, in the way you could feel each other’s pulse, the unspoken connection that ran between you. The world outside felt far away, and in this moment, it was just you and Katsuki.

“Awwww!”

The sudden, loud chorus of voices from the outside made both of you freeze, and your hearts skipped a beat.

Your eyes snapped open, and you both turned toward the window, where the unmistakable faces of Denki, Mina, Sero, and Kirishima were pressed up against the glass, their exaggerated expressions of glee clear even from here.

“OH, YOU GUYS ARE TOO CUTE!” Denki shouted, his grin practically stretching ear to ear, his thumbs up in the air as he made obnoxious “heart” hand gestures.

Mina’s hands were pressed against the glass, her face lighting up as she made kissy faces toward the two of you. “I’m literally dying!” she squealed, fanning herself dramatically. “You two are so cute, oh my god, you’re giving me life!”

Sero, ever the playful one, was pretending to wipe away fake tears, looking utterly overwhelmed. “Look at them! El verdadero amor nunca muere! My heart can’t take it!” he moaned melodramatically.

Kirishima stood behind the others, arms crossed over his chest, his smirk wide and proud. “Yo, that’s my bro! Keep it up, man!” He gave Katsuki a thumbs up, completely unfazed by the fact that you both were clearly caught in a very private moment.

You froze, caught between the shock of being interrupted and the heat that was rapidly rising to your cheeks. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the heat radiating from Katsuki, who had gone completely still, his hands gripping your waist a little tighter, his jaw tightening in that way that meant he was fighting off embarrassment.

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him like a wave, and you couldn’t help but giggle despite yourself. “Oh my God,” you muttered under your breath, pressing your forehead into his, trying to stifle the laughter that bubbled up. You could feel Katsuki’s face burning against your skin as he growled low in his throat, his body tense beneath you.

“Shut the fuck up, you idiots!” Katsuki barked, though there was an unmistakable, embarrassed edge to his voice. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

Denki wasn’t backing down, though. “Oooooh, looks like the big guy’s shy now!” he teased, clearly loving the situation.

“Shut it, stupid,” Katsuki snarled, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of fondness behind his irritation.

You could feel Katsuki’s heartbeat beneath your palm, still racing, as you pressed your lips to his cheek, giving him a soft kiss to reassure him. He huffed but relaxed just a little at the touch, clearly more annoyed at being caught than truly embarrassed.

“Stop staring at us, you perverts,” you called out, though your voice was tinged with laughter. “You’re gonna ruin the moment!”

Mina stuck out her tongue and waved dramatically. “We’re not the ones ruining it,” she teased, her hands still framing her face as she fluttered her lashes at you both. Kirishima gave another hearty laugh. “Hey, don’t worry, man, you two have been together forever, you deserve all the ‘aww’s’!” He threw Katsuki another heart, making the other man growl under his breath.

“C’mon, let’s get outta here,” you said with a smile, gently pulling away from Katsuki, though his arms tightened around you, not quite ready to let go.

The others backed away from the window, still waving and making kissy faces at you, leaving you and Katsuki in your little bubble of quiet tension. His hands finally released their hold on your waist, but his fingers lingered for a second, as if unwilling to fully let go. You turned to him with a grin, brushing your lips against his jaw.

“Home now?” you teased, voice full of warmth and amusement, feeling that familiar pull between you both, even with the entire world watching.

“Hell yeah,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss you one last time before you both settled into the car, determined to leave behind the embarrassment and bask in your shared warmth.

—

"Well, that’s how it would've gone if you hadn’t lied and basically stranded me at the salon while you were grocery shopping," you say, shaking your head slightly. "And picking up cute sweaters, thinking you'd surprise me, but you know—"

Katsuki frowns, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly not understanding the full depth of your reasoning. "What, you steal my stuff because it’s your duty now? What the hell kinda logic is that?"

You give a playful shrug. "Yeah, pretty much. It's literally my job now as your wife to steal your clothes, and I can only give them back when they no longer smell like you."

You finish rubbing lotion onto your legs and arms, your movements slow and deliberate as you prepare for bed, the soft scent of the lotion mixing with the lingering fragrance of the shower. Katsuki’s eyes are locked on you, studying every motion with an intensity that almost feels like a heatwave in the room. After a beat of silence, he tilts his head slightly, as if trying to gauge whether you're serious or messing with him.

He doesn’t quite seem convinced, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he stares at you with that familiar intensity, his gaze flickering as you move around the room. Then, without missing a beat, he breaks the silence with a casual,

“Wanna get sweaty together?”

The words hang in the air for a moment, his deep voice making your heart skip. You freeze for a split second as you carefully wrap your hair in the silk scarf, the cool material sliding over your fingers as you look at him through the reflection in the vanity mirror. Your eyes meet his, and you can see the playful glint in his gaze, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Sweaty? I— Oh!" The heat that suddenly swirled in your lower stomach caught you off guard, the warmth curling low as his smile turned sharp, wicked even. You could feel his gaze on you from the bed, intense, like he was savoring the tension in the air.Katsuki shifted on the bed, his voice held a teasing edge when he spoke again, every word dripping with intent,

"I saw what you did to my microwave, you little shit."

Your stomach flipped as your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t even need to ask what he meant. You knew exactly what he was referring to. You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you avoided his gaze in the mirror.

What were you supposed to say?! There was no point in trying to justify it.

You did smear syrup all over the microwave.

Knowing it would work your clean freak husband up.

But before you could even process a response, your feet were already moving before your brain could catch up.

You threw yourself out of the vanity chair, your body a blur of action. You didn’t even glance at him as you bolted for the door, the room instantly filled with the sound of your hurried steps echoing through the hallway. The soft padding of your bunny slippers barely made a sound, but your heart was thundering in your chest as you dashed past the hallway, dodging furniture and glancing back over your shoulder.

Katsuki’s laughter, low and knowing, rumbled from behind you, the sound growing louder as his footsteps followed close behind. He was coming for you, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You could hear the shift in his tone—hungry, playful, and definitely too cocky for your liking.

He was enjoying this, you realized.

‘Think fast, think fast!’ You glanced wildly around, and then, on instinct, you jumped. You sailed over the stair railing, landing with a soft thud on the other side. The movement was fluid, practiced, but the rush of adrenaline made it feel like the world had slowed down. The next few seconds were a blur of frantic footfalls and the sound of your breath catching in your chest.

You didn’t have time to scream or laugh—it was all pure instinct now as you dashed through the house.

Every step was a race against him. You darted from one room to the next, flipping on every light you could reach, as if trying to outsmart him with a maze of illumination. You tried to drown out the sound of his voice, calling out to you, teasing you.

"Where’d you go, huh? You think you can run from me?" Katsuki’s voice bounced off the walls, deep and full of that teasing edge. His footsteps were much closer now.

You couldn’t let him catch you just yet, not while you still had a chance. The house felt too large, yet too small, and you knew the only way to stay out of his grasp was to stay one step ahead. You could hear him, but he hadn’t quite found you yet.

With a quiet gasp, you pressed yourself against the wall, slipping into the narrow space between the large sectional and the wall.

The living room was eerily silent now, the only sound being your heavy breathing and the slight rustling of your robe. You held your breath, eyes darting from the shadows of the room to the hallway beyond.

‘Stay quiet, stay still, don’t even fucking breathe’ you told yourself, the anticipation thick in the air.

The silence stretched for what felt like an eternity. Your heart was hammering in your chest, each beat loud enough that you thought he might hear it, but then you heard it—the subtle sound of his footsteps, faint at first, but growing louder as he circled the room.

"You think you can hide from me, huh?" Katsuki’s voice was low, predatory, and full of amusement.

"I’m gonna find you, little bunny. There’s nowhere you can hide."

You felt the hairs on your neck stand up as the anticipation crept into your veins. He was so close. You could practically feel him, his energy filling the space, even if you couldn’t see him. His presence was like a heat wave moving through the room.

And then it happened.

A loud thud, and the creak of the floorboards beneath his weight. His voice, sharper now, echoed in the space. "I know you're here, damn it. Don’t make me come get you."

You tensed, knowing your time was running out. He was near, but you had one more move left. You didn’t wait. You took the chance. You shot out from your hiding place, darting for the sliding door before he could reach you.

But it was too late.

With a speed that seemed to defy logic, Katsuki was on you in seconds. His large hand gripped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You gasped in surprise, your heart racing as you felt the heat of his body press against your back.

“Yer gonna have to do better than that,” he growled in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

With his other hand, he pulled you roughly into his chest, his muscles flexing with the effort as he forced you into his embrace. You could feel his heart beating just as wildly as yours, and despite the playful teasing, there was a fire in his touch that made your pulse quicken.

Katsuki’s lips pressed to the side of your neck, his voice a soft, dangerous murmur. “You can’t outrun me, babe. Now... what’s this about dirtying my stuff?”

“You didn’t even want the microwave!”

The two ‘love taps’ on your ass that followed told you that wasn't the point.

You swallowed, feeling the playful, mischievous tension shift into something much more intense. You could feel the smirk against his skin, his chest still rumbling with amusement. He wasn’t going to let this go easily.

"I guess you’ve caught me," you murmured, your voice breathless. "But you still haven’t figured out what you’re gonna do about it, have you?"

His response was a low, satisfied chuckle, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who was in control. "Oh, I’ve got a few ideas," he murmured darkly, and just like that, you knew this game was far from over.

The tension in the air shifted once more, as Katsuki grabbed your waist as you tried to dart past him, guiding you toward the kitchen with a firm hand ont he small of your back. His grip was strong, commanding, as he led you to the microwave.

"Get to work," he grumbled, his voice low and filled with that same playful authority. The mess you’d made—smeared syrup on the microwave—was now your responsibility to clean up. You could see his smirk from the corner of your eye, clearly enjoying the little game he'd forced you into.

You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting as you grabbed a rag from the counter and began wiping the sticky mess away. It wasn't exactly what you'd had in mind for a fun evening. You sighed dramatically, your body language exaggerated as you huffed.

"This wasn’t what I had in mind, you know," you muttered under your breath, clearly disappointed.

Katsuki glanced up from the apple he was casually biting into, his deep eyes locking onto yours as his lips curled into a teasing smile. "What did you have in mind?" His voice held that same playful edge, but there was something beneath it—a hint of satisfaction in knowing that you'd been caught, and he was making you work for it.

You scowled, wanting to retort, but all you could do was finish the job, swiping the last of the syrup away with a little more force than necessary. Katsuki’s gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the heat of his attention despite his nonchalant chewing. He enjoyed this too much—seeing you all riled up and a little annoyed. You could tell by the stupid sexy small grin playing on his lips.

Finally, when the job was done, you straightened up, wiping your hands on your robe. Katsuki pushed off the counter and walked past you, his voice casual as he asked, "You ready for bed now?"

The suggestion of rest was tempting, but you weren't done with him just yet. You rubbed your hands together slowly, grinning mischievously inside as you felt the heat rise between you again. Katsuki turned to face you, already half-expecting something more, but his brow furrowed when he noticed the way you were acting.

"Is the house too cold for you?" he asked, the softness in his voice indicating he was already thinking of ways to keep you comfortable. "I’ll turn up the heat."

But before he could even take another step toward the thermostat, your hand darted out, warm and quick.

The palm of your hand landed with a firm smack against his ass cheek, the impact loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen. Katsuki froze, his eyes narrowing in shock, but before he could fully process it, you did it again. A quick, sharp tap to the other cheek—once, then twice—your hand connecting with his firm, muscular backside.

He whipped around, his eyes flashing with the same fiery intensity you knew so well. “The hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, a growl barely concealed beneath the words, and his chest rose and fell with a deep breath, clearly trying to control the surge of heat that ran through him.

But before he could respond or chase you, you darted away, sprinting down the hallway with your heart racing. The adrenaline from the earlier chase was still pumping in your veins, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself, knowing that you were in for it now. You could already feel the change in him—a shift from playful to downright determined, and that meant trouble for you.

His voice, sharp and commanding, followed you as you ran through the house.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

There was no sweetness in his words anymore, just the promise of payback, and you knew he meant it.

You could feel it before you even reached the hallway corner—the heavy thuds of his footsteps as he chased after you. He was pissed, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you he was enjoying this as much as you were. Your heart hammered in your chest, but you couldn’t stop the thrill of it all. You were playing with fire, and Katsuki was more than ready to burn.

The panic you felt as you scrambled into the prep kitchen and opened the pantry was only tempered by the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You threw the door closed behind you with a soft, but hurried click, and you quickly scaled the shelves, barely keeping your balance as you shoved yourself into the corner. It was dark, cramped, and smelled faintly of spices, but it was perfect for hiding—for now, at least.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, biting back the urge to laugh at your own antics. Playing this game with Katsuki was dangerous, and you knew it. But what could you say? You were addicted to the thrill, to the way you could tap dance on his nerves like this, driving him crazy. It was a game, one you both knew well, and hell, you’d earned it. As his wife, it was practically your constitutional right to rile him up a little.

Your eyes darted around the small, dark pantry, and your breath slowed as you listened carefully for any sound of Katsuki. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, faintly, you heard the echoing crackle of something in the distance, the unmistakable sound of soft explosions. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what it was—Katsuki was out there, his quirk flaring. You barely had time to register the thought before you saw a faint glow from under the pantry door, the light from his explosions spilling in through the cracks as he tested the area.

For a moment, the kitchen went eerily silent. The door swung open, just enough to let in more light, and you could hear his heavy footsteps, slow and deliberate. He wasn’t using his quirk anymore, but his presence was palpable, a tension in the air you could practically taste.Eventually, the door closed again, but you didn’t hear any footsteps leading away.

You swallowed, holding your breath, wondering if he was waiting for you to give yourself away. What if he was just outside the door, waiting for you to slip up? The thought made your pulse race again, and you crouched down lower, hoping to stay hidden just a little longer. The quiet was agonizing as you waited, counting each second, your heart thudding in your ears.

Gently, you climbed back down from your spot and tiptoed to the center of the pantry doors. You couldn’t see any feet from under the door and when you peaked through the crack, no one was there. Even the door to the prep kitchen was close, moonlight streaming in from the window.

Then, just as you began to relax, a shiver ran up your spine, and you swore you could feel him looking at you, his gaze burning through the air. It was a wild thought, but your instincts told you it was true. You hadn’t heard him move, but you felt it—the knowing presence of Katsuki, so close yet so far. You froze, barely daring to move as you waited for him to make his next move.

And then it came.

A soft whisper, just behind your ear, as warm lips brushed against your ear.

"Is he gone yet?"

Your breath hitched, and you barely stifled a scream.

He had been right there the whole time, lying in wait, ready to strike. You gasped and immediately bolted, stumbling out of your hiding spot as you tore down the pantry shelves, your heart pounding.

"Katsuki!" you screamed, the sound of your voice only fueling the chase.

He tricked you!

And now, you were going to pay for it.

You ran back into the kitchen, your legs moving faster than they should have, but you weren’t about to let him win. You spun around the counter, ducking and dodging as you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps closing in behind you. Katsuki was hot on your heels, laughing darkly as he taunted,

"You're not gonna outrun me, sweetheart!"

Your heart was racing as you darted around the kitchen, taking sharp corners and swerving around the island. It felt like an endless game of 'ring around the rosie'—only you were the one spinning in circles, desperate to keep your distance while Katsuki's laughter echoed all around you. The kitchen, your familiar battleground, was now your prison, and he was closing in.

Desperation filled you, and in a moment of inspiration (or maybe pure panic), you grabbed the nearest fruit basket. You swung it at him with all the force you could muster, and it hit him square in the chest, sending apples and oranges scattering across the floor. He paused for a moment, surprised by your impromptu attack, but the shock didn’t last long. A smirk spread across his face as he shook his head and turned back toward you.

“Nice try,” he growled, already moving after you again.

You shrieked and turned on your heel, racing toward the hallway. The next place to hide? You didn’t know yet, but you weren’t about to make it easy for him. You heard his footsteps pounding after you, his growls of annoyance growing louder with each step.

"Leave me alone!" you shouted, looking for any way to escape. "You're impossible!"

You dart into the home movie theater, your feet skidding slightly on the smooth hardwood floors as you crouch low between the rows of seats, hoping to lose Katsuki in the dimness of the room. The large space feels like a maze of plush chairs and hidden corners, perfect for slipping away unnoticed. Your pulse is pounding in your ears as you press your back to one of the seats, holding your breath, trying to calm the frantic energy running through you.

For a moment, all is silent, the only sound the quiet hum of the air conditioning. Then, without warning, the room is flooded with light as the giant movie screen flickers to life. You jerk your head up in alarm to see Katsuki standing at the front of the room, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He’s leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like a predator waiting for its prey to make a mistake. The screen behind him casts a glow, making his features look sharp and dangerous—his vermillion eyes twinkling with amusement.

“You can’t hide forever, princess,” he calls out in a sing-song voice, and your stomach flutters in that wicked, dangerous way that only he can manage. It’s almost scary how much his presence affects you, but you can't stop the heat rising in your body as you feel his gaze locking onto you.

You throw the remote at him in a frantic attempt to distract him, and it hits him square in the chest. He chuckles darkly and catches it mid-air, his eyes still never leaving yours as he steps toward you. “Nice try,” he mocks, his voice low, full of dangerous amusement.

“But you’re gonna have to do a lot better than that.”

Before you can react, you turn and bolt out of the theater, running as fast as your legs can carry you. His footsteps echo behind you, the sound of him chasing you growing closer and closer.

“Why don’t you wanna be a good wife, huh?”

His voice rings out, teasing and laced with that underlying heat that makes your skin tingle.

“Come over here so I can show you just how much of a bad girl you’re being.”

You let out a squeal of laughter and fear, your heart pounding in your chest. There’s something about how relentless he is, how playful yet serious, that makes you feel like a mixture of excitement and nervousness all at once. It’s almost overwhelming, the way his words make your heart do summer saults.

In your panic, you dart into the gaming room, thinking you can slip past him in the narrow space between the arcade machines and shelves of consoles. But the moment you step into the room, you realize your mistake. You’ve backed yourself into a corner, and you can already feel his presence behind you, drawing closer.

A low growl of frustration escapes his throat.

“Really? You think this is gonna save you?” he grumbles, his voice rich with amusement as he stalks toward you, closing the gap faster than you can react. You try to dash around one of the desks, but he’s already there, his hand wrapping around your wrist, pulling you back with a force that leaves you breathless.

Before you know it, you’re pressed against the cool surface of a console, the light from the television screen casting strange shadows over your bodies. Katsuki’s face is inches from yours, his warm breath mingling with yours as his eyes burn with that teasing, wicked glint.

“Gotcha,” he growls softly, his lips curling into a smile that’s anything but sweet. You feel a surge of heat rush to your cheeks as you fight to catch your breath, the rush of adrenaline still pumping through you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says with a mock sigh, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek. “Otherwise, I’d just let you keep running.”

But you’re trapped now, nowhere to go but back into his arms as he pulls you closer, his grip firm but playful. The game has changed, and you can feel it in every heated second that passes between you two.

You feel a mischievous spark flicker in your chest, a playful impulse bubbling up as you glance at Katsuki. Thinking quickly, you decide to act on your not-so-good thoughts and fake a cough, knowing full well that he wouldn’t deny you something as simple as water.

You cover your face against his shoulder, a dramatic cough escaping your lips, each one exaggerated and “delicate” as you turn to him, trying your best to sound like you're struggling without actually being in distress. You hold the coughs in just long enough to make it sound convincing, then pull back just slightly to give him a soft, pleading look.

“Kat,” you manage to whisper, your voice intentionally weak as you try to act as demure as possible while clearly playing him. “Could you get me some water? Please?”

His gaze softens for a moment, the protective instinct flaring up in him as he reaches over without a second thought, clearly not seeing the slight mischief in your eyes. His hand brushes your hair away from your face gently

As soon as the cough escapes your lips, you can see the flicker of concern flash across Katsuki's face. His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn't call you out. He knows you too well to fall for a typical trick, but when you fake a few more delicate coughs, turning your face into his shoulder and pretending to weakly gasp for air, he seems to soften. His scowl deepens, but he’s already scanning you, making sure you're actually okay.

"Kami, you're really something else," he mutters under his breath, but there's no bite in his tone. Instead, it's replaced with a reluctant tenderness as he hoists you up into his arms with ease, just like he’s done so many times before. The moment your body presses against his chest, you feel the warmth of him radiate through your own clothes, and you can’t help but smile, knowing you’re getting exactly what you wanted.

He carries you into the kitchen with a determined stride, like he’s on a mission. You’re basically cradled against him, the motion smooth but with that underlying power that only Katsuki can bring. You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring the way he smells, the comfort of his presence making everything feel secure, even if you were the one to initiate this little ruse.

Once he sets you on the kitchen counter, it’s all business.

He turns around, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a ice cold water bottle, which he hands to you with a soft, "Here." His expression is serious now, a slight frown still lingering on his face, though it’s softened by the concern he can't hide entirely.

"Thank you," you murmur sweetly, taking the bottle and uncapping it with a soft twist. You sip from it generously, enjoying the coolness of the water that soothes your throat. All the while, you notice his gaze never leaves you, a little too intense for casual observation. The way he looks at you, like you're both an annoyance and a treasure, sends a shiver down your spine.

As you take another sip, Katsuki silently starts picking up the apples and oranges you’d thrown at him earlier. The way his muscular arms move, the tension in his back and shoulders as he bends down and reaches for the fallen fruit, has your thoughts wandering. For a split second, you can’t help but compare him to Jason, imagining what it would be like if Katsuki were to flex those powerful muscles with the same intent—though you know that Katsuki would never harm you.

He stands there, staring at you with his hands resting firmly on the counter.

The muscles in his forearms flex as he leans in slightly, clearly waiting for you to acknowledge him. But it’s the way his eyes lock onto you, his expression serious but not without a hint of that playful edge that makes your heart beat faster. He stands so close, the heat of his body radiating toward you, and you almost swear you can feel the smoldering energy between you two, even without touching.

You take another sip of the water, but this time your gaze meets his, and you can't help but smirk. "You look good like that," you tease, unable to resist the playful glint in your own eyes as your gaze roams over him, savoring the way his muscles move with every action, every twitch of his body. It’s almost as if you’re daring him to take the next step.

Katsuki smirks back, his eyes darkening slightly. "You think you're so cute, don't you?" His voice is low, the undertone of desire thick enough for you to feel it in your bones.

But you're not done yet.

"You know, I am," you reply coyly, swinging your legs slightly on the counter, letting your robe ride up just a little. You watch the way his eyes flicker to your legs, the change in his expression that makes your stomach twist in excitement.

Katsuki clears his throat and leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he growls, "You're playing a dangerous game, sweetheart." He pulls back just enough to catch your gaze, his vermilion eyes smoldering with a mix of amusement and desire.

"You better be ready for the consequences."

And just like that, you know this little game of yours has taken a sharp turn. The air is thick with tension now, each second passing like an electric pulse between you both. But you’re not backing down.

Not this time.

You seize the water bottle, chucking it at your husband again as his eyes narrow and he hits the ground in time, your pulse quickening as you dart off the counter and up the stairs, hoping your lucky stars are shining brightly tonight. The sound of Katsuki's curses and frustrated muttering echo from downstairs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. ‘

"Oi, you little brat, don’t think you’re getting away that easily," his voice growls, a mix of exasperation and amusement lacing his words. "I swear to god, when I get my hands on you—"

The sound of Katsuki's curses and frustrated muttering echo from downstairs, but you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. The dim light from the hallway barely reaches the corners of the room, and with a quick glance around, you make a beeline for the space under the bed. You slide underneath, curling into a tight ball, trying to control your breathing as your pulse continues to throb in your ears. You’re nearly holding your breath now, hoping that the darkness of the room and the soft carpet will hide you long enough for him to give up the search.

‘He’s not chasing me,’ you think, laughing under your breath as you curl up into a tight ball, barely able to contain your giggles. The dim light from the hallway barely reaches you as you stay perfectly still, heart racing with excitement.

The silence stretches, just as you're starting to think you might actually get away with it, but then—crackle—the intercom crackles to life. Katsuki’s voice filters through, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice is dark and heavy with intent, cutting through the quiet of the house like a razor.

"Okay, little girl, have it your way," he growls, the sound of his explosions echoing faintly in the background, a sign that he’s still searching. "If you can hide for another 10 minutes without pulling any of your dirty tricks, the rest of the night can go your way."

You pause, the breath you’d been holding catching in your throat as you listen more intently.

You don’t dare make a sound, your body tense beneath the bed, the room feeling colder as the challenge sets in. Katsuki’s words ring through your mind, and you can almost see the smirk on his face, even though you’re hidden in the shadows.

Then, the briefest of pauses. You could hear his explosions falter as if he was waiting for your response, but you stay still. His next words are low, full of weight, and deliberate as they slide from his mouth.

"If I win..." He drags it out, just enough to keep you on edge.

"You’ll be my slave. Your choice."

Your stomach flutters with both anxiety and excitement, your pulse spiking at the dangerous proposition.

Slave—his word lingers in your mind, and despite the heavy weight of it, there’s an undeniable thrill in the challenge he’s laying before you. The heat rises in your cheeks as you realize what’s at stake.

Another pause, and then his voice filters through again, darker this time, as though the stakes are raised even higher. "I’ll give you five minutes to come back and apologize. Otherwise..." His voice lowers to a growl, the chill of it making your spine straighten.

"You better hope I don’t find you, princess."

Your breath hitches, the finality in his words sending a shiver through you. Every muscle tenses as you lie there, the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the silence of the room. The space underneath the bed suddenly feels even tighter, as though the weight of his promise is closing in on you.

You’re caught between two choices—stay hidden and push your luck, or face him and risk the consequences. Your hands grip the floor beneath you, the texture of the carpet digging into your fingers as you think, weighing the choices, feeling the pressure of every second ticking by.

“BOOM!”

Something gets knocked over somewhere down the hall, and it stops your heart. You strain your ears and catch a noise. It’s Katsuki, his voice low but unmistakably annoyed, filtering through the walls.

You can hear the smirk in his tone, the barely restrained menace, and it sends a thrill straight through you. You feel a rush of adrenaline as the challenge settles into your chest. ‘A slave, huh?’ The thought makes you bite your lip, trying to suppress a laugh.

But you can’t let him know you’re enjoying this.

You curl further beneath the bed, trying to keep as still as possible, your body pressing against the cool floorboards as you listen intently to his voice. His words ring in your ears, an irresistible mix of dominance and playfulness. You can practically feel the heat of his glare from here, even though you’re tucked away in your hiding spot.

“Ten minutes, huh?” you whisper to yourself, still not daring to move an inch. “Guess I better make this count.”

You hold your breath, willing yourself to stay silent, as you hear his footsteps grow closer. It’s eerily quiet for a moment, and then—footsteps, loud and deliberate—Katsuki’s on the move. He’s clearly taking his time, perhaps savoring this moment, knowing that you're somewhere just out of reach. His footsteps stop right outside the door to the guest bedroom.

“I'm coming for you, princess,” he calls through the door, voice low and menacing.

"Seven minutes... Time’s ticking."

You hold your breath, hoping he doesn’t hear the quickening of your pulse. You can hear him walking around, at a deliberate pace, as if he's trying to cover every inch of the house. He's playing this game with the same ferocity he brings to everything—no hesitation, no mercy.

Your eyes flicker to the clock on the nightstand. Time’s slipping away, and you can practically feel the heat of his presence outside the room, waiting for you to make a move.

His voice suddenly filters through again, but this time, it’s even more teasing, drawing you in like a magnet. "I hope you know, I’m gonna find you. You’re not getting away with this, bunny."

Your breath catches in your throat.

He’s close, and the clock is ticking down.

You have to make a decision—will you continue hiding, hoping your luck will hold, or will you face him and take what’s coming? Either way, you're in this now, and the thrill of the chase is too intoxicating to back out of.

You wait for another few seconds, then slowly, carefully, you begin to crawl out from under the bed. The floor creaks beneath you, but you ignore it, moving as silently as you can toward the door. You hear his footsteps again, and they’re louder now, meaning he’s getting closer.

You quickly slip out of the guest bedroom and dart down the hallway, trying to keep your steps light. The adrenaline courses through you, and you feel a sudden, almost overwhelming desire to make him chase you a little longer.

But suddenly, just as you round the corner, you stop.

You press yourself into the wall, holding your breath.

His voice rings out from down the hall, low and rough. "I'm getting close, little girl. I can feel you. You’re not gonna hide much longer." The challenge has shifted. The ball is in your court now. You might just be able to outsmart him... or you might end up surrendering to his demand, not knowing which would be more satisfying.

Your pulse races as you slip through the room, making your way back to the shared bedroom, your footsteps light but hurried. The house feels bigger now, emptier, as if the space is closing in on you.

Once you reach the door, you pause, a brief moment of hesitation before you push it open, slipping inside.

The familiar scent of the room—of Katsuki, of home—wraps around you like a comforting blanket, but tonight, there’s no time for comfort.

You quickly climb into the bed, burying yourself beneath the thick comforter, the soft fluff of pillows surrounding you like a fortress. You pull the blankets tight around your body, cocooning yourself under layers, your body hidden from view. For a moment, you take a deep breath, your heart still racing from the game, the thrill not yet over.

You glance at the clock, counting down the minutes in your head. You can feel it—the frantic pace of the house around you, the subtle pressure building as the time slips away. ‘At least three more minutes,’ you think, your breath steadying as you listen to the muffled sounds of movement downstairs.

But then, suddenly, it all stops.

The noise, the footsteps, the low muttering of Katsuki’s voice—all of it vanishes.

A dead silence fills the air, so complete that it almost feels like the house has emptied, the stillness pressing in on you. You hold your breath, eyes wide in the darkness beneath the covers, your mind racing as you try to process the sudden absence of sound.

Had he given up? Or was this part of his plan?

The unknown lingers in the air like a thick fog, and you lie there, still, not daring to move, every muscle tensed. You can’t tell if he’s waiting for you to make a mistake, or if he’s biding his time for something else.

The quiet stretches on, and it feels heavier now, as though Katsuki is just outside, watching, waiting.

You stay as still as possible, your heart pounding so loudly you swear it might give you away. Every inch of your body is frozen in place, breath shallow as you try to listen for any sign of movement, any clue as to what Katsuki is doing.

Then, out of nowhere, you feel it.

Arms wrap around you suddenly, pulling you into a firm hold. Your heart leaps in your throat as you gasp, the air squeezed out of you in an instant. A hand presses firmly over your mouth, stifling any sound that might escape, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. The pressure of his hold leaves no room for escape, your body effectively trapped against his, pressed up against the hard muscles of his body.

You stiffen, but the strength of his grip is unmistakable. The hand on your waist pulls you even closer, locking you in place, and you can feel every rigid line of his body against you. His warmth, the familiar scent of him—it all envelops you, but it only makes the tension sharper, the reality of your situation crashing down.

Katsuki’s body is solid behind you, his breathing steady but low, as though he’s been waiting for this moment, patient and calculating. You can feel his strength, that palpable aura of control he always carries, and the way his muscles tense beneath your back as he holds you firmly in place.

For a long moment, neither of you move.

The stillness between you two is thick, broken only by the ragged beat of your heart in your chest. He hasn’t said a word yet, but the way his grip tightens slightly, possessive and unyielding, tells you everything you need to know. He’s won this round, and he’s not letting go anytime soon.

"Did you really think you could hide from me that easily?" His voice comes low, a hiss vibrating through the air, right next to your ear. It’s a whisper, but it feels like a command, and the way his breath brushes against your skin sends a shiver down your spine.

You remain motionless, your mind spinning as you try to process what comes next.

Katsuki’s grip around you tightens, but instead of the usual sharp dominance, there’s a surprising gentleness to it. His hand on your mouth lifts ever so slightly, his thumb brushing your lips in the softest of motions. For a moment, you’re left breathless, caught between confusion and something more electric that stirs under your skin.

You remain still, heart hammering in your chest, as you feel him pull you even closer, his chest pressing harder against your back. His breath is warm against your ear, and then—unexpectedly—his lips brush against your skin. The kiss is feather-light at first, a tentative press of his lips against your temple, as though testing something, gauging your reaction.

You freeze, the sensation catching you off guard. His lips are soft, too soft for the fierce, fiery hero you know him to be. It’s a contrast you’re not used to, and it disorients you. The kiss lingers for a moment before he pulls back slightly, but only enough to whisper in your ear.

"Don’t move," he murmurs, his voice low and steady, as if speaking to someone fragile. His hands move then, his fingers trailing softly down your mouth, a stark contrast to his usual forceful touch. They’re gentle, almost reverent, as if you were something delicate in his grasp.

You feel the faintest press of his lips again, this time on your neck, where his breath sends a wave of warmth across your skin. His lips trail lower, his kisses soft and careful, almost as though he’s rememorizing the shape of you, the way your body responds to his touch.

Your mind races, trying to process the tenderness, the way his hands glide over your body with such care.

He’s checking you, almost methodically, like he’s making sure you’re okay, as if this entire moment is more about keeping you safe than playing any kind of game. It’s bewildering, disorienting, and just as you’re about to say something, you realize—it’s not just your arms and neck that he’s gently caressing.

He’s checking every inch of you, his hands roaming down your body with a soft, almost protective touch. When his fingers reach your ankles, you flinch slightly, but he’s too gentle, too careful. He slides your slippers off one by one, his movements so fluid you almost don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. He continues his exploration, his hands inching up to your legs, your sides, his lips grazing across your skin as he checks every part of you.

But then you feel it—your robe, the one you’d been wearing only moments ago—is gone. It’s not just slipped off, it’s completely vanished, and the realization hits you like a cold wave. ‘When did he…?’ You don’t even remember him removing it.

Panic surges for a fleeting moment, but the overwhelming gentleness of his touch leaves you frozen in place. The confusion only deepens as you feel him inspect you, feeling each shift and breath of your body, as if making sure everything is just right. His hands linger for a moment on your hips, giving a soft squeeze, before sliding back up your torso, every movement deliberate but tender.

His lips press another kiss to the side of your neck, and this time, there’s an almost loving quality to it—soft and warm, like a promise or reassurance. You finally manage to gather your thoughts, your voice barely a whisper when you ask,

"Katsuki… What are you doing?"

His hands freeze on your skin for a brief moment, and you can almost feel the pause in him, the weight of your question. He pulls away slightly, enough to look at you, but his hands never leave your body. His gaze meets yours, and the softness in his eyes contrasts with the fierce intensity you’re used to.

“ ’m making sure you’re okay,” he answers, voice still gentle, but it carries a seriousness to it.

You swallow hard, the conflicting sensations in your chest only growing. His usual fiery nature is subdued now, replaced by something softer, something you’ve never seen from him. His fingers run softly over the edge of your collarbone, a silent question hanging between you both.

And then it clicks—the tenderness, the way he’s inspecting every inch of you, the robe and slippers that vanished without you even noticing. He’s not just searching for a game to win anymore. This is something different, something deeper, and you're left unsure if you should be relieved or even more confused than before.

"Turn this way for me, Peaches."

And that’s when it hits you.

Your blood ran cold. Katsuki never, ever called you Peaches in a normal context. It was a nickname reserved for moments right before things got… nasty. The kind of nasty that involved a lot of heated touches and breathless whimpers. Your muscles seized, a full-body freeze that left you rigid as a statue. All the exhaustion from the gaming session vanished, replaced by a shy, anticipatory buzz that thrummed beneath your skin.

Your mind scrambled, trying to piece together the last few minutes.

When you didn't move, his frustration was palpable, even if it was masked by a layer of concern you couldn't quite place. He reached out, not violently, but with a surprising gentleness in his grip, his calloused fingers curving around your upper arm and turning you towards him. His touch sent a jolt that unthawed your frozen limbs.

His brow was furrowed slightly as he scanned me, his gaze lingering on your shoulders, your arms, your ribcage. The intensity in his eyes wasn't lustful, not yet— it was searching, concerned.

"You didn't hit the floor too hard, did you?" he finally asked, the gruffness in his voice softer than usual. "I saw you stumble." Your breath hitched. ‘You’ve been worried about me?’ You hadn't even noticed. Your mind had been so focused on the teasing nickname and its implications that I’d completely missed the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I… I'm fine," You stammered, the tension slowly releasing its grip, though a different kind of nervous anticipation still simmered within.

Katsuki didn't seem fully convinced, his crimson eyes narrowing as he continued to assess you with that sharp focus. Then, he did something unexpected. He reached out again, but this time, his hands didn't just grip your arms. They slid down your forearms, to my wrists, and then to your hands. He took them in his, his own calloused fingers engulfing your much smaller ones.

The warmth of his skin seared through the thin fabric of your flesh. It was a small gesture, but the intimacy of it sent a different kind of shiver down your spine this time. It was a shiver of warmth, of comfort, and a growing awareness that maybe, just maybe, Peaches could mean different things in different contexts, and Katsuki was far more simple than you gave him credit for.

The tension in the room is thick as Katsuki’s lips near, his body heat radiating from the shadows like a controlled storm. The moonlight spills softly through the balcony doors, casting gentle beams across the floor and bed, painting everything in silvery hues. The only other light comes from the low, moody glow of your vanity, creating a calm contrast to the intensity of his presence. His face stop right in front of you, but you keep your eyes closed, pretending to remain focused on your own breathing.

"Yer not foolin’ me, Peach," Katsuki growls softly, his voice warm with amusement. He dips down in front of you, just within reach. His hand slides slowly up your calf, brushing against your smooth skin, sending a ripple of electricity through your body. His fingers gently graze your legs, rubbing them tenderly as though savoring the feel of them under his touch.

"Ya know," he says, his tone low, "’m gonna learn how to do nails." He pauses, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your inner thigh as he leans in, soft lips brushing against the tender skin of your knee.

“That way, ya never have ta go back to that damn salon with that shithead.”

His lips leave a gentle kiss on your knee before resting his warm cheek against it, eyes narrowing as he meets your gaze with that sharp, intense look of his.

“You’re my wife now,” he murmurs, almost as if it’s a promise.

“I’m gonna take care of you. Always.”

You let out a soft breath, the heat rising in your chest as his words sink in. There’s something about the way he’s holding you, not just physically but emotionally, that makes your heart race. Katsuki is possessive, protective, and you can feel it in every inch of his touch, every word he speaks.

His hands gently grip your legs as his lips travel slowly up, kissing his way higher and higher, each kiss deliberate and full of affection. Your eyes flutter open as his warm breath fans across your skin, a chill running through you only to be quickly washed away by his heat. He pauses for a moment when he reaches your knees, his lips brushing softly against the skin there before his voice rumbles out again, teasing, yet affectionate.

“‘s the matter, Peaches?”

"We both have work tomorrow," you murmur, the words almost slipping out before you can catch them. “We can’t—”

He cuts you off with a kiss to the top of your knee, lingering there just a little longer than necessary. "I own the agency with you, babe," he says against your skin, his breath hot and soothing, sending a tremor through your body.

"I can make arrangements. I’ll always make arrangements for you."

Your body shivers under his touch, a mix of excitement and anticipation building with every passing second. His kisses are relentless, moving up your legs, up your thighs, and over the soft curve of your hips and stomach as he inches closer to your lips.

A small laugh escapes you, but it’s laced with affection and playfulness. "It’s gonna be cold tonight," you say, voice barely above a whisper. He grins against your breastbone, the corners of his lips curling upward.

"I’ll warm you up," he promises. His lips are now against your voice box, trailing upward slowly, stopping just shy of your jawline as he waits for your next move. You hesitate for a moment, remembering your freshly blown out hair.

"I just got my hair done..." you say softly, a small tinge of concern flicking across your thoughts.

Katsuki pauses, his movements stilling entirely as if he’s considering the possibility of ruining your new style.

Then, without a word, he reaches up, his strong hands gently pulling the silk scarf from your head. Your hair spills around you like a fan, soft and flowing, a stunning contrast to the harshness of the world outside. He picks up a few strands of your blow-out, his fingers lightly running through them as his lips land on them, kissing the strands with a reverence that surprises you.

With a tender smile, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, the very roots of your hair, then moves down, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your eyes, nose, and finally stopping at your lips. His lips linger there for a second, his breath mingling with yours as he pulls away just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft, almost vulnerable.

“I know,” he murmurs, and before you can say another word, his lips are back on yours, firm and warm, as he pours everything he feels into the kiss. You melt into him, hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him closer. The world outside fades away as he deepens the kiss, kissing you like he can’t get enough, like this moment is something precious he wants to keep forever.

And you let him.

Katsuki’s kiss deepens as you respond with equal fervor, your bodies pressed close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. His hands trail down your sides, gripping your waist and pulling you closer, his mouth moving hungrily against yours as though he’s starved for this closeness.

The soft fabric of your tanktop shifts under his touch as he tugs it down slightly, exposing your skin to the cool air, only for him to warm it up instantly with his hands. His lips leave yours reluctantly, his breath ragged as he moves down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to your sensitive skin. His teeth graze the pulse point just below your ear, and you gasp, the sensation sending a jolt of heat straight through your body.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," Katsuki growls, his hands sliding up your back to unclasp the delicate straps of your bra. The motion is slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

“Can’t believe yer all mine."

You shiver as the fabric of your bra falls away, exposing more of your skin to his touch. He kisses his way down your collarbone, his hands now skimming over your curves, feeling the heat of your body under his palms. He leans in, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, sending shivers down your spine.

"Mmm, yer so responsive," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your chest to tease the other nipple. He takes the now-hardened tip into his mouth, sucking gently as his hands trace shapes on your stomach and hips. His touch is electric, making you moan as you arch into him.

"Katsuki," you whimper, your head falling back against the bed. "You're killing me."

He chuckles darkly, flicking his tongue over the tight peak. "I haven't even started, Princess," he promises, moving to lick and nip his way lower.

Your breath hitches when his hands move lower, tracing the waistband of your booty shorts, fingers teasing the edge before sliding beneath them, his touch so light it sends a shock of pleasure through you.

Katsuki’s lips find yours again, the kiss urgent now, his tongue demanding as it moves with a fierce intensity. You can feel his pulse racing as your hands wander to his chest, your fingers sliding beneath his shirt to feel the heated muscle underneath.

His lips trail down once more, this time stopping just above the waistband of your little shorts. His eyes meet yours, burning with desire, before he presses another kiss to your stomach, his hands sliding down your legs to lift them over his shoulders.

"Is this what you want, baby?" Katsuki asks, his voice low and rough, filled with promise. His lips graze your inner thighs as he waits for your answer, teasing, giving you just enough space to feel the need intensify.

"Say it," he demands softly, his voice a seductive growl. "Tell me you want me."

“I want you.”

“Good girl.”

You let out a soft gasp as Katsuki's hands slide up your thighs, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. With a quick tug, he pulls them down, exposing your lacy panties to his hungry gaze. He leans in, pressing a hot kiss to your clothed sex before pulling back with a smirk.

"Mmm, you're already so wet for me, aren't you?" he purrs, his fingers tracing the damp fabric. "I bet you've been thinking about this all night, haven't you? About what I'd do to you if I caught you?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you nod, biting your lip. Katsuki chuckles, low and deep, as he slowly slides your panties down your legs. You lift your hips to help him, your heart racing as he tosses them aside.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls, his eyes roaming over your naked form. "So perfect, so fucking sexy. I'm going to make you regret running from me."

He leans down, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. He sucks hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hand slides between your legs. His fingers tease your entrance, dipping in just slightly before pulling back.

"Beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."

"Please," you whimper, arching into his touch. "Please, Katsuki, I need you. I need your cock inside me."

"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding two fingers deep inside your aching pussy. "Fuck, you're so tight. I can't wait to stretch you out on my cock."

He pumps his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit. Your hips buck against his hand, desperate for more, as he works you closer and closer to the edge. His hands slide underneath your body, pushing your legs further apart as he kneels between them. He takes a long look at your pussy, still wet from their earlier encounter, before leaning in and running his tongue along your slit.

"Mmm, so tasty," he murmurs, lapping at your juices like a starving man. "I could drink you from here to the next life."

His tongue circles your clit, making you gasp and squirm. Katsuki chuckles, one hand reaching up to cup your breast as he continues his slow assault. His other hand slides between your legs, spreading your folds wider for better access.

"So fucking ready for me," he purrs, rubbing his thumb over your sensitive nub. " 'm going to make you regret being a brat."

And with that, he dives in, licking and sucking your throbbing clit as his thumb presses deep into your cunt. Your hips buck off the bed, desperate for more as your moans fill the room.

"Fuck, Katsuki," you cry out, arching into his touch. "Don't stop."

But he does, pulling away with a smirk. "Not this time," he says simply, standing up and tugging off his clothes.

How could you refuse that?

He's magnificent, his well-toned body glistening with sweat and covered in the evidence of your arousal. You trace your fingers over his chest, your breath catching as he sucks in a sharp breath.

His chiseled physique, a testament to countless hours of training, was on full display, each contour accentuated by the soft light. His skin glowed, a perfect canvas that drew your eyes to the powerful muscles flexing as he moved. He was a force of nature—fiery and captivating.

You couldn’t help but admire the way his tousled hair fell over his forehead, framing those sharp, penetrating eyes that held a mixture of confidence and mischief. He caught you staring, a smirk playing on his lips, the corners curling just enough to send a thrill down your spine.

"You like what you see?" he asks, arching an eyebrow.

You nod eagerly, your fingers trailing down his abs and lower. Katsuki lets out a shaky breath, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. With a sultry smile, you lean back against the bed on all fours, every inch of you drawn towards him.

“Just appreciating the view,” you replied, letting your voice drip with flirtation. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken desires as he stepped forward, closing the distance.

“Yeah? Think you can handle all this?” he challenged, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his warmth. The heat of his body was intoxicating, igniting a fire deep within you. You could feel the power of him—bold, unyielding, yet protective.

“Only if you let me,” you whispered, your hands inches from his member, hearts racing in synchronized rhythm. But he holds you down. You whimper, trying to push back onto him, but his strong grip holds you steady.

"Not yet," he murmurs, his hands gripping your wrists. "Lemme enjoy this."

As the tension simmered in the air, Katsuki’s smirk turned playful yet wicked. In one swift motion, he reached around, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hand connected with your ass, a sharp slap that sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you.

“Didn’t expect that, did ya?” he chuckled, his voice low and teasing, clearly reveling in the reaction he’d provoked. The sting was both shocking and exhilarating, igniting a fiery rush of desire that pooled deep within you.

Before you could respond, he pulled you closer, flush against his yummy abs, his hands exploring the curves of your back with undeniable confidence. With a deft hand, he slipped beneath your left cheek, fingers brushing against your most sensitive spots. You gasped, the sensation sending shivers down your spine as he found the sweet spot between your folds that made your breath hitch.

Katsuki’s fingers moved with purpose, teasing and exploring, building a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure cascading through you. “Ya like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he worked his magic, pushing you closer to the edge.

You could feel your body responding to his every touch, a delicious mix of desire and lust coursing through your veins. “More,” you managed to gasp, craving every ounce of his attention.

The way he dominated the moment, fully in control yet so attuned to your needs, made your heart race. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, whispering promises of pleasure as his fingers continued their tantalizing dance.

"Peaches," he growls, his voice low and rough. "You haven't come for me yet."

He slaps your ass, hard enough to sting, and you cry out. "Please, Katsuki," you beg, your body aching for his release. "Need it."

He laughs, a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine. "You'll have it," he promises, "but first, you're going to feel me inside you."

You could feel every taut muscle of Katsuki’s abs pressed against you, his warmth enveloping you completely. The way he moved, fingers dancing expertly, sent shivers cascading down your spine and ignited a fire deep within you. Each thrust of his fingers felt like a direct connection to your very core, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

Your hands roamed over his bare hips, tracing the rugged contours, feeling the heat radiate from his skin. The sensation of gripping him, holding onto the solid strength beneath your fingers, made your pulse race with excitement. You could sense the power he exuded, a blend of raw masculinity and confidence that only fueled your desire further.

As he continued to work his magic, you pressed your body closer into him, feeling the rhythm of his movements sync with the rapid beat of your heart. Each curl of his fingers coaxed delicious sounds from your lips, soft gasps and breathy moans that hung heavily in the air. You were lost in a haze of pleasure, the world around you fading away, leaving just the two of you in this electrifying moment.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent another surge of heat coursing through you. His breath was warm against your hair, adding to the intoxicating frenzy building inside you.

You could feel the tightening coil of pleasure building within, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. “Kats..,” you whimpered, unable to contain the need that bubbled within you. Your fingers dug deeper into his hips, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going, to take you higher.

He responded with a fierce intensity, his fingers moving faster, deeper—each thrust igniting a new spark of ecstasy that left you gasping for more. The way he controlled the pace, teasing just enough while driving you wild, was maddeningly exquisite.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that resonated in your very being. You surrendered completely, giving yourself over to the waves of pleasure that washed over you, losing yourself in the blissful connection between your bodies. "That's it, baby," he coos, his lips trailing down to your ear. "Come for me. Let me feel you come apart on my fingers."

His words push you over the edge, and you cry out, your pussy clenching around his fingers as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you through your orgasm until you're boneless and spent.

"Fuck, that was cute," he growls, pulling his fingers from your dripping cunt. "But we're not done yet. I'm going to make you scream my name all night long."

He stands, quickly shedding the covers before grabbing your hips and flipping you over onto your hands and knees. You look back at him over your shoulder, your eyes widening as you take in his massive cock.

"K-Katsuki," you breathe, your pussy already throbbing with need again. "Please..."

"Shh," he soothes, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds. "I've got you, baby. I'm going to give you exactly what you need."

And with that, he slams into you, filling you up in one hard thrust. You cry out, your hands fisting in the sheets as he starts to move, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes.

"Yes, fuck!" you moan, pushing back against him. "Harder, Katsuki! Fuck me harder!"

He obliges, his hips snapping against your ass as he fucks you with wild abandon. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his grunts mixing together in a filthy symphony.

"Fuck, your pussy feels so good," he groans, one hand reaching around to rub your clit. "So fucking tight and wet. You were made for my cock, weren't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, feeling another orgasm building already. "Only yours, ‘tsuki! I'm yours!"

"That's right, baby," he growls, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "This pussy belongs to me. Now come for me one more time. Milk my fucking cock." His words send you spiraling over the edge once more, and you scream his name as you come, your pussy spasming around him. Katsuki follows shortly after, burying himself deep as he fills you with his hot seed.

You both collapse onto the bed, panting and sweaty, as the aftershocks of pleasure fade away. Katsuki pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your curves. "But don't think we're done yet. I'm going to keep you up all night, making you pay for running from me."

You shiver at his words, already feeling the heat building in your core once more. With Katsuki, you know it's going to be a long, fucking night. You try to pull away, your arms trembling as Katsuki holds you in place.

"N-no, please," you beg, your voice hoarse from screaming his name. "I can't take anymore. 'S so much."

But Katsuki just chuckles darkly, his grip tightening on your hips. "Too bad, Peach," he growls, his cock still buried deep inside you. "You're not going anywhere until I say so. And I'm far from done with this tight little pussy." He starts to move again, his thrusts slow and deep, as if he has all the time in the world. Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his, even as your muscles protest.

"Fuck, look at you," Katsuki purrs, one hand sliding up your spine to tangle in your hair. He pulls your head back, exposing your throat to his hungry mouth. "So desperate for my cock, even when you're begging me to stop."

He bites down on your neck, marking you as his as he fucks you harder, faster. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with his grunts.

"I'm going to ruin you," he promises, his voice rough with desire. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, so deep, that you'll never want anyone else. You’re all mine, mind, body and soul."

His words send a shiver down your spine, even as a part of you recoils at the thought of belonging to anyone. But it's hard to think straight with Katsuki pounding into you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"Please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. "I want it..."

"That's it, baby," he praises, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "Beg for me. Beg me to fucking ruin you."

You do, your voice rising in pitch as the pleasure builds and builds. Just as you're about to come undone, Katsuki pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"W-what?" you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why did you stop?"

He smirks, flipping you onto your back and settling between your legs. "Because I said so," he growls, his hands pinning your wrists above your stomach.

"And because I want to watch you fall apart for me."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eats you out. "Come for me, baby. Let me taste you."

His tongue is relentless, teasing and stroking your most sensitive spots until you're shaking and writhing beneath him. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you with his tongue through the aftershocks until you're boneless and spent. Then, finally, he climbs up your body, his cock sliding home once more.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "But we're not done yet, Peaches. Not by a long shot."

And with that, he starts to move again, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. You cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you meet him thrust for thrust. It's hard to imagine anything feeling better than this— Katsuki above you, surrounding you, claiming you as his own. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you know that there's no going back.

He's going to ruin you, just like he promised.

And God help you, but you don't want it any other way.

Katsuki pulls away, leaving you cold and aching on the bed. He stands over you, his eyes dark with desire and something else— a hunger that makes your blood run hot.

"You've been a bad girl, haven't you?" he growls, his voice low and rough. "Running from me, teasing me all night. You need to be punished."

He reaches out, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you to the edge of the bed. You gasp, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets as he flips you over, bending you over his knee.

"Count," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack. "And if you stop, we start over." You cry out, your body jolting at the sudden impact. But you quickly remember yourself, gritting out a shaky,

"One!"

Katsuki smacks your ass again, harder this time. You count off another, your voice rising in pitch as the heat builds on your skin. He spanks you over and over, each blow landing on a different spot until your entire ass is blushing and stinging.

"Please," you whimper, tears streaming down your face. "It hurts."

" 'S supposed to," Katsuki says simply, his hand rubbing circles on your sore flesh. "You need to learn your lesson, bunny. You're mine, and you don't get to run from me." He flips you over again, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them apart. You whine, trying to close your legs, but he's too strong.

"No," he growls, holding you open. "You don't get to hide from me. I want to see every inch of you."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your slit before diving in deep. You cry out, your hips bucking against his face as he eats you out like a man starved.

"F-Fuck, you taste so good," he groans, his eyes locked on yours as he laps at your juices. "I could do this forever." He brings you to the edge, his tongue teasing your clit, before pulling back at the last second. You keen in frustration, your hands fisting in his hair.

"Please," you beg, your voice ragged. "I wanna cum."

"Beg for it," Katsuki demands, his breath hot against your sex. "Beg me to let you cum on my tongue."

You do, your words tumbling out in a rush as you plead for release. Finally, mercifully, he grants it, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you with his tongue through the aftershocks until you're boneless and spent.

But he's not done with you yet. He flips you over once more, his cock sliding in with one hard thrust. You cry out, your body still sensitive from your last orgasm, as he starts to move.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his hips snapping against your ass. "So tight and wet and perfect."

He fucks you hard and fast, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. The room fills with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans mixing with his grunts.

"You're mine," he growls, one hand sliding up your spine to grip your hair. "Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasp, your voice breathless with pleasure. "All yours, Katsuki."

"That's right," he praises, his thrusts getting harder, faster. "And I'm going to fucking own you. You'll never want anyone else, ever again."

"I can't...I can't take anymore!"

But Katsuki just chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tightening. "Oh, I think you can," he purrs, his voice rough with desire. "And you will. I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk, until the only thing you remember is my name." And with that, he starts to move faster, harder, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his as the pleasure builds and builds. His left hand finds your own and threads your fingers together before his thumb rubbing and pressing into that spot on your hand. Call you crazy for focusing on that, but it only adds to the crazy pleasure ringing out in your body.

Just as you're about to come undone, Katsuki pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting. You whine in protest, your body aching for his touch.

"Kat," you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why’d you stop?"

He smirks, flipping you onto your back and settling between your legs. "Because I said so," he growls, his hands pinning your wrists above your head.

"And because I want to watch you fall apart for me."

He lowers his head, his tongue tracing your clit before sucking it into his mouth. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eats you out. "Come for me, baby. Let me taste you. Never gettin’ tired of my fucking pussy."

"Good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours. "But we made a deal."

And with that, he starts to move again, fucking you into the mattress with deep, powerful strokes. You cling to him, your nails raking down his back as you meet him thrust for thrust. It's hard to imagine anything feeling better than this— your husband above you, surrounding you, claiming you as his own. As he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you know that there's no going back. You’d never want another.

Katsuki holds you down on the bed, his weight pinning you in place as his cock slides in and out of your dripping pussy. You arch your back, trying to take him deeper, but he just chuckles darkly.

"Greedy little thing, aren't you?" he purrs, his breath hot against your ear. "Always so desperate for my cock." You whimper in response, your body aching for more. But Katsuki just pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"Ahh!" you cry out, reaching for him. "Fuck you!"

He smirks, slapping your hand away. "Not yet, baby. You haven't earned it."

He flips you over onto your stomach, your face pressed into the mattress. You feel his hands on your ass, kneading the soft flesh, before he brings his palm down with a sharp smack. Katsuki loves the way the globe ripples, he could watch it all fucking day. You yelp, your body jolting at the impact. But before you can catch your breath, he spanks you again, harder this time.

"Get ready," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "’m gonna tear this ass up."

You count off each blow, your voice rising in pitch as the heat builds on your skin. You gasp and squeal as you feel his teeth meet your soft flesh while he plays with it. Squishing, squeezing, making it bounce in whatever direction makes his dick happy. Your round ass is pulsing by the time he's done, but you feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Please Daddy," you beg, your hips bucking back against him. "I want it."

And it almost works, the motion of your cute ass sending a hungry twitch straight to his cock.

Almost.

"Not yet," Katsuki says simply, trailing his fingers down your spine. "I want to play with this tight little ass first." You feel his fingers probing at your back entrance, and you clench instinctively. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your stinging flesh.

"Relax, baby," he coos, his voice suddenly gentle. "I'll make it feel good, I promise."

He works a finger inside you, slowly, gently, until you're pushing back against him. Then he adds another, scissoring them inside you as you moan and writhe beneath him. "Fuck, you're so tight," Katsuki groans, his breath coming faster. "I can't wait to feel this tight ass around my cock."

He pulls his fingers out, leaving you empty and aching. You hear the sound of a bottle popping open, and then his slick fingers are back, working your asshole open.

"I'm going to fuck this ass," he promises, his voice rough with desire. "And you're going to take it like my good little slut."

You whimper at his words, your body both terrified and excited by the prospect. But before you can respond, he's pushing inside you, his cock stretching you wide. You cry out, your hands fisting in the sheets as he starts to move. It's a slow, steady pace at first, but it quickly builds to something harder, faster.

"Fuck, yes," Katsuki groans, his hips snapping against your ass. "Take it, baby. Take my fucking cock." Your body responds instinctively, your hips rocking back to meet his as the pleasure builds and builds. Just as you're about to come undone, he pulls out, leaving you empty and wanting once more.

"No," you gasp, looking back at him with wide eyes. "Why?"

He smirks, flipping you over onto your back. "Because I wanted to see your face when I fuck this ass," he growls, lining himself up with your entrance. Katsuki pushes back inside you, his cock sliding deep as you cry out in pleasure. He starts to move again, fucking you hard and fast as he pins you down with one hand on your lower back.

"Fuck, I love this ass," he groans, his hips slapping against your reddened flesh. "I'm going to fucking ruin it."

You can only moan in response, your body shaking with pleasure as he pounds into you. Just as you're about to come, he pulls out once more. Katsuki pushes your knees up to your chest, spreading you wide open as he slides back inside your dripping pussy. You arch off the bed, crying out at the sudden sensation.

"Fuck, look at you," he groans, his eyes locked on yours as he starts to move. "So fucking needy and sensative. So perfect, all fucking mine."

You can only nod in response, your body his for the taking. He fucks you hard and fast, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Katsuki leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he grinds against your clit with each thrust. "Come for me, Peaches," he purrs, his voice rough with desire.

"Let me feel you come on my fucking cock."

Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki doesn't let up, fucking you through the aftershocks until he's buried deep and pulsing inside you.

"Damn," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "You're mine now, baby. All mine."

You can only nod in response, your body spent and satisfied. And as he pulls out, you know that there's no going back. You belong to Katsuki.

Restless, Katsuki pushes you onto your knees, his hand fisting in your hair as he guides your face towards his hardening cock. "Open up, slave," he commands, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want to please your Master."

You obediently part your lips, your pretty pink tongue darting out to lick the head of his cock as he slaps it against your cheeks. You moan at the taste of him, your pussy already dripping with need.

"That's it, good girl," Katsuki praises, pushing his length past your lips. "Take it all like a good little fuck toy." You relax your throat, letting him slide in deeper as your hands grip his thighs. He starts to thrust, fucking your face with long, deep strokes that make you gag and choke around him.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good," he groans, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you struggle to take him. "I'm going to use all your holes tonight, slave. Your mouth, your cunt, your ass. They all belong to me."

You whimper around his cock, the thought of being used so thoroughly making your body ache with need. Katsuki pulls out, slapping your face with his slick shaft.

"Crawl to the pillows," he orders, releasing your hair. "On your hands and knees, ass in the air. I want to see that pretty little pussy dripping for me."

You scramble to obey, presenting yourself to him like the submissive slut you are. Katsuki climbs onto the bed behind you, spreading your cheeks wide as he licks a stripe up your dripping slit.

"Mmm, so wet," he purrs, his fingers circling your clit. "So desperate for my cock. Tell me how much you need it, slave."

"I need it, Master," you whimper, pushing your hips back against his face. "Please, I need your big cock stretching me open. I need you to fuck me hard and make me scream." Katsuki chuckles darkly, pressing a finger into your aching hole. "Nasty little Peach," he scolds, pumping his digit in and out. "You'll get what I give you when I give it to you and you’ll love it."

He removes his finger, leaving you empty and wanting. Then, without warning, he slams his cock into you, burying himself to the hilt in one hard thrust. You scream out, your body jolting at the sudden intrusion. Katsuki doesn't give you time to adjust, pounding into you with brutal force as his hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Yes, fuck!" you scream, your pussy clenching around him as he rails you into the mattress. "Harder, Daddy! Use me harder!"

Katsuki obliges, snarling as he hammers into you with wild abandon. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and his grunts mixing together in a filthy symphony.

"You're mine," he growls, one hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back. "This pussy belongs to me. Say it."

"It's yours, Master," you sob, your body shaking with pleasure as he fucks you within an inch of your life. "All yours! Please, don't stop!"

Katsuki laughs darkly, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark. "I'll stop when I'm fucking done with you," he promises, pounding into you even harder. "And trust me, bunny, we're far from done."

He keeps fucking you like a beast in rut, using your body for his own pleasure as you writhe and moan beneath him. Just as you're about to come undone, he pulls out, flipping you onto your back.

"Suck my cock," he commands, straddling your face and pressing the head of his shaft against your lips. "Get it nice and wet for that tight little G-spot of yours."

You obediently part your lips, taking him into your mouth as you suck and slurp around him. Katsuki groans above you, his hips rocking as he fucks your face.

"That's it, Peach," he praises, his voice strained with pleasure. "Get it ready for me."

He pulls out, wiping your spit off his cock before lifting your legs over his shoulders. You feel the blunt head of his shaft pressing against your asshole, and you tense instinctively.

"Relax," Katsuki soothes, rubbing circles on your lower back. "Let me in, slave. Let me claim this pussy." You take a deep breath, forcing your muscles to relax as he slowly sinks into you. It burns, stretching you wide open, but the pain quickly morphs into pleasure as he starts to move.

"Fuck, so tight," Katsuki groans, his eyes locked on yours as he eases in and out. "I could live in this pussy, baby. I'm going to fucking ruin it."

He picks up the pace, pounding into you with deep, hard thrusts that make you see stars. Your body responds instinctively, clenching around him as you moan and whimper beneath him.

"Yes, Katsuki!" you scream, your nails raking down his back. "Harder! Fuck me harder!"

Katsuki complies, his hips snapping against yours as he uses your hole like a vice. He leans down, capturing your lips in a brutal kiss as he fucks you into oblivion.

"That's my good little fuck toy," he praises between kisses, his voice rough with desire. "Taking my dick so well. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be used and filled and fucked until you can't think straight."

You can only nod in response, your body shaking with the force of your impending orgasm. Katsuki feels it too, his thrusts getting harder, faster as he chases his own release.

"Cum for me," he demands, reaching between your bodies to rub hot tight circles around your clit. "Cum on my fucking cock like the desperate little slut you are."

Your final orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your vision whiting out as you scream his name. Katsuki follows shortly after looking into your eyes, burying himself deep and pulsing inside you as he fills you with his hot seed. He collapses on top of you, both of you panting and spent. But even in the afterglow, Katsuki's grip on you never loosens.

"Mine," he growls possessively, nuzzling into your neck. "All fucking mine."

The two of you finally stop, breathless and glowing with happiness. Katsuki tugs you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a protective warmth. He gently nuzzles against your cheek before pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "You okay?" he asks, his voice soft and laced with concern.

You nod, a giggle bubbling up as you snuggle into his neck. His hands trail over your body in comforting strokes, a loving rhythm that makes you feel cherished. "I'll take you to get your hair fixed tomorrow," he murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips. "But I still think it looks nice. Even when you're all sweaty and fucked out." A teasing glint sparkles in your eyes as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer.

"You're such a good husband, Suki. Makes me wonder what you'd be like as a dad," you tease, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his back.

Katsuki's eyes darken with a mischievous glint, and before you know it, you're on your back again, your knees draped over his shoulders. His grin is wicked, but his touch is filled with adoration.

“What—!”

"Ya know somethin’? I wouldn’ be a good husband ‘less I gave in to all of my wife’s wishes," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin.

"So have it yer way, my love."

SO this was my first time writing a full length smut. How'd I do?

I DON'T OWN THE IMAGES!!!!

My requests are free and open.

Taglist from both of my master lists because I need to feed the cats: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, the-dumpster-fire-of-life, @raendarkfaerie, @bunny-b34r, icey-wonders, @adherethecomingofage, @karaartioli-blog, @meoweoeoeosme, @faithisxreading, @faithisidking, @oh-kayyy-stan-bts, @shortie-chocolate, @rosaline756. @sweetlike-sugarplum. @aespie, @dancingqueen276, @erensbbg, @lillizxzz,

Master lists in question: Katsuki's Sugar baby, Katsuki's Ex who secretly had is baby

My master list is a work in progress but there's plenty more Katsuki, Aizawa, and other characters if you request them. Ao3 is sexy too.

You can also tip me a coffee if you want. (Just made it, so excited! \(≧▽≦)/ <33)

Remember: Comments and lives, they really help. Don't be afraid to leave me a sexy little reblog too.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ -Angie

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scarnatlover · 3 days ago

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Run, baby, run

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (romantic)

Summary: Finding a moment of peace away from the chaos of superhero life isn't easy, but with a little help, you can carve out time for a romantic retreat in a secluded cabin in the woods. What begins as a lighthearted chase soon transforms into an exhilarating game of predator and prey, sparking intense passion and desire between two lovers.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sexual themes, smut, Reader has a cock, predator x prey, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, edging, name calling, praise, passing out, aftercare.

REQUEST: YES

A/N: I'm sorry if anything is spelled incorrectly, but English is not my first language. I apologize in advance for my grammar and spelling. If you have any request (read this first), I will try and write them.

Taglist

She had been running for what seemed like hours. She didn’t know where she was going, she didn’t know the route she had taken, and she didn’t know where she would end up. The forest she was in seemed endless. There was no stream to orient herself by, and the treetops were too thick to see the stars. She could hear her labored breathing, her quick steps, the owls hooting in the trees. But most of all, she could hear whoever was behind her and chasing her getting closer and closer.

Their footsteps were heavier than hers, but their breathing matched hers. She could tell that whoever was following her was taller and more muscular, but not more agile since she heard them trip over some fallen tree branches. She also knew that they were far behind her and that this gave her an advantage. And so she did the only thing she could think of. She hid behind a massive rock after jumping off its top.

She held her breath, trying to stay as quiet as possible, but she jumped as soon as she saw the figure dart over her head, then rolled on the ground to cushion the jump and immediately resumed running. She was right, actually. Even from a distance they looked about four inches taller than her and decidedly more muscular. She breathed a sigh of relief and, once she was sure they were far enough away, she stood up and began to run at a moderate pace towards where she thought the exit of the maze of trees she was in was.

But after walking a few meters, she started to feel like she was being watched. She turned in every possible direction, but there was no one but her. She started walking again, the feeling of being watched always with her, but she turned again when she heard a twig snap behind her. After not seeing anything or anyone, she prepared to start again but this time, when she turned, she found your muscular figure in front of her. “Boo” you muttered, a smile plastered on your face and your arms that wrapped around her hips.

“Are you running away from me, pretty girl?” you asked, backing her up against a tree trunk. “Why are you running, baby girl? You know I’ll always catch you.”

And with that you kissed her, hard. Her back against the tree made your body pressed against hers, making her feel your hard cock against her belly. Her hands flew into your hair, pulling you closer. You moaned into her mouth, enjoying her hands on your head, and she smiled slightly into the kiss.

Your violent kisses ran down her jaw and neck, pulling her skin with your teeth. She moaned in pleasure and pain, without letting out a gasp first. She could feel her arousal dampening her panties, yet she remembered that this person in front of her was the one who not even ten minutes ago was chasing her through the same woods where she was about to be fucked.

Your hands traveled to her breasts to feel one of her spheres through the shirt she was wearing. Being the impatient person you were, you quickly shrugged off the piece of clothing, ripping it in half. There, you were met with her bare tits, no bra covering them. You smirked, easier access for you.

You lowered your head to take one of her nipples into your mouth, licking it until you felt it harden under your tongue, your other hand still busy groping her other tit. You then switched sides, repeating the same movements and giving the same attention to both of her tits. Her back arched, pleasure coursing through her. Her hands still in your hair to hold you closer to her chest and instigating you not to stop. She laughed briefly feeling you play with her nipples, but immediately moaned when you bit one of them.

You both watched your fingers slide along her skin, down past her belly button, and stop above her pelvis. You looked into her eyes as you slowly knelt in front of her. You pulled down her leggings, but left her panties on. With a smirk, you moved them to the side and slid your hand to her pelvis between her legs. You caressed her folds, parting them slightly so you could see her arousal before sliding your fingers inside her.

She moaned and leaned her head against the tree trunk, completely surrendering to the feeling of your fingers inside her. She let your hands and fingers explore her body, both inside and out and in all the ways you wanted.

“God, you look beautiful even from down here,” you murmured, starting to slowly move your fingers inside her. She groaned at the sound of your voice, so low, husky and sexy, full of your desire for her body. Simultaneously, your mouth began to leave hot kisses everywhere it could reach: her thighs, her belly, her pelvis, until you lightly kissed her clit.

She gripped your hair in her hands as your lips touched her hot clit and whined. Her hips began to move back and forth on your fingers. “That’s it. Ride my fingers like the good girl you are. My good girl.” You pinned her hips against the tree so you could slide your fingers deeper into her. You started slow and gentle until you built up to a force and speed that rivaled – not really – your cock. “Good, just like that. You’re doing great.”

Your tongue laid flat against her clit, her eyes rolled and her mouth made sounds sweeter than honey. Her entire body jolted with pleasure as your tongue flicked at her bundle of nerves. Your fingers slowed, making her whine, but the movements of your tongue made her hips buckle, your hand on them the only reason she didn’t fall to the floor.

Her moans grew louder, louder, her body shaking with pleasure and the need to come, as you brought her closer and closer to the climax. As you continued to tease her, she moaned in frustration and writhed beneath you. With each passing second, her need for release grew stronger and stronger due to denial. You took your time, pleasuring her until she was begging for more.

“Please, let me come. I beg you,” she pleaded, her eyes locked on yours, her green ones filled with desperation.

You quickly removed your tongue from her slit and stood up, now much taller than her, but your fingers never stopped moving inside her. “I’ll tell you what,” you whispered in her ear. “I’m going to let you go now. You’re going to start running in that direction again, until you see a cabin. I’ll give you a twenty-second head start before I start chasing you,” you removed your fingers from inside her, drawing out a whine from her throat. “If I catch you before you get to the cabin, I’ll fuck you until you pass out and it’s up to me whether or not I make you come. If you get to the cabin and I can’t catch you…” you gently kissed up her neck, until you reached her cheek. “��when I fuck you, you can come as many times as you want,” you concluded, placing your sweatshirt on her shoulders and lifting her pants, to cover her nakedness.

As soon as those words left your mouth, she started running again in the direction you indicated, faster than before despite the ache between her legs. She could smell you on her, her pussy clenching around nothing even as she ran, but most of all your voice, which was counting the seconds, growing more and more distant.

The forest seemed endless, she didn’t know how much longer she had to run. There was no sign of the cabin you had told her about. She was starting to doubt its existence. Her legs were burning and with them her muscles, the temperature had dropped slightly, but it was cold enough to notice the air coming out of her mouth every time she was out of breath.

She stopped to rest only when she was sure that your footsteps couldn’t be heard, but she remained alert anyway. She collapsed on the ground, her back against a tree, she caught her breath and looked around, but she couldn’t see anything. Her ears couldn’t pick up any suspicious noise, other than the wind in the branches of the trees and a few night birds here and there. Not even a shadow of you could be seen.

When she was sure she was rested and had enough breath, she started running again, always in the same direction you had told her. She ran and ran and ran, until she could see a light far away from her. She breathed a sigh of relief and increased her pace. Now she could also see inside, with the fire lit in front of the couch and under the TV, thanks to the windows that acted as a wall on the outside of the house.

But just as she was approaching the path that led to the stairs to enter the cabin, out of nowhere she glimpsed your figure staring at her from a tree. Nat returned your gaze for a few seconds, and then sprinted towards the house, but you wrapped your muscular arms around her waist before she could touch the wood of the stairs.

“That means…” you murmured in her ear as she squirmed. “That I won, sugar.” You took her earlobe between your lips and bit it enough for her to feel it.

You slowly brought a hand to her face and turned her towards you, kissing her without hesitation. She immediately found herself returning the kiss that became more and more passionate. Her head was spinning and you pulled her towards you roughly, making her feel your semi-hard member. Your tongues rubbed together. Her hands returned to your neck while yours continued to move down and then back to her breasts and grope them roughly.

You quickly removed the hoodie she was wearing and kissed along the column of her neck, leaving purple marks as you went further down, your hands now massaging her ass. You backed up with her, leading her up the three steps to the wooden patio and setting her down on the cool surface. You ripped a hole in her pants, then did the same to her soaked panties.

“Look at you, sugar,” you turned your gaze to her pussy. “Your swollen, soaked cunt, still clenching around nothing,” she whimpered, the cool night air in direct contact with her wet, exposed sex. You ran two fingers between her folds and brought them to her mouth, letting her taste her essence. “You need it, don’t you? You need to be stretched, ruined, and used like the whore you are for me.”

You pulled down your pants and boxers, letting your cock pop out, pumping it a little to get it fully hard, which didn’t take long given the magnificent sight before you. You leaned over her, your hands on either side of her head, staring into her beautiful green eyes filled with lust.

She kissed you harder than before, nipping at your bottom lip, making you groan into her mouth. She suddenly felt a lot warmer, wondering if she was really about to get fucked on the wooden patio of a cabin by the person who had been chasing her ten minutes ago. But her mind went blank the moment she felt one of your hands spread her thighs, making her wet pussy meet your now painfully hard cock.

You positioned the tip of your cock so that it was prodding at her entrance and at the same time you pulled away from the kiss to watch her facial expressions. She immediately gasped and her back arched towards you. You slowly pushed it in, feeling her warm and tight around you. “Fuck, are you still this tight? After so long?” you asked a rhetorical question.

You took her hands and brought them above her head, pinning her down, and leaned down to kiss her slowly. You started moving, rocking your hips harshly. She gasped first into your mouth, then broke away from the kiss and began teasing the sensitive skin of your neck. You moaned in her ear, increasing the force of your thrusts, the only sounds that could be heard at that moment were your breathing and moans and the wet sound that Nat's pussy was making.

At this point you were ramming into her, whispering in her ear how pathetic and desperate she was. “Look at you, beautiful. Taking everything I’m giving you like the slut you are,” you moaned in her ear, feeling her shivering and whimpering beneath you. You could feel her getting closer to her climax, but you had other plans.

“Please,” she whispered, running her hands under your shirt and digging her nails into your back. “Let me come,” she continued with a few tears rolling down her soft face. You just grinned and continued to rock your hips fast and hard, her walls squeezing you tighter and tighter, making you groan once more.

Immediately, you slowed down and looked down at where her cunt met your cock, which was fully immersed inside her, filling her completely. She sobbed, her orgasm having been denied for the second time that night, and she began to shake even more. After a few minutes of your thrusts being soft and slow, making her feel every inch of your cock, you started moving your hips violently again, her cries of pleasure could probably be heard from miles away. Her body was aching, from the run she had been on and how you had left her in the middle of the woods, and her moans were now coming out uncontrollably. Her legs were shaking, her eyes scrunched shut and you could feel how close she was to cumming.

You continued to do this until she was a blabbering mess, the only things coming out of her mouth were pleas and moans of your name. “Tired, baby? You can’t take it anymore?” you asked, slightly worried. You looked at the expression on her face and it all hit you. You started to ram into her one last time, intertwining your hands with hers above her head and kissing her sensually and softly. “Can I come inside you?” you asked, feeling the knot in your stomach about to break. She just nodded, too tired to even respond.

Your climaxes came at the same time, her coming on your cock with the loudest moan of the evening and you painting her walls white, filling her with your seed. Her pussy contracted around you for the last time, making you groan in her neck, where you were resting your head, which you raised a few seconds later to look into her eyes, but instead you saw her passed out from exhaustion. You smiled gently at her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

You carefully slid out of her, trying not to hurt her, and got dressed, but first you watched your cum leak out of her gaping hole. You then picked her up bridal style and the two of you entered the cabin, which felt like a sauna compared to the outside. You continued to the stairs and carefully carried her to the bedroom you were in. You laid her on the bed and ran to the bathroom, where you drew a hot bath. You quickly ran to the kitchen to get her a bottle of water and a snack for later.

When you got back to your room, Nat was waking up. You were immediately at her side, stroking her hair. “Hey,” she whispered to you and you smiled, telling her that a bath was ready for her. “Can you carry me?” she then asked and you rolled your eyes playfully and picked her up in your arms, carrying her to the bathroom and placing her in the hot water. You handed her the bottle after opening it and helped her take a few sips.

Nat looked at you puzzled when she noticed that you were not undressing and getting in the tub with her, but instead grabbing the shampoo ready to wash her hair. “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked and you looked at her in disbelief before answering her.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to hurt you,” you started, looking at the water instead of her face. “I think I overdid it a little,” you continued. Nat pulled her hands out of the water and placed them on your face, looking into your eyes.

“I liked everything you did, from the chase in the woods to the fuck on the patio. I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me,” she wiped away the single tear that was sliding down your face with her thumb. “Get undressed and come in. I want you even closer to me,” and with that you took off your clothes and Nat made room for you between her legs, where you stayed until the tub water was cold.

The two of you dried off and got dressed, exchanging a few kisses here and there. Once you were in bed, Nat immediately curled up around you, her head on your chest and one leg bent over your hips. One of your hands slid under her shirt, touching her bare skin, while the other reached for the remote on your nightstand and you scrolled until you found her favorite James Bond movie on the TV.

Nat fell asleep not even halfway through the movie, her breath on your neck, where you could feel her smile as she slowly massaged your abdomen, tracing her fingertips over your abs. You looked up at her softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face like you had done a few hours ago. You fell asleep shortly after her, hoping that Tony hadn't installed cameras on the patio too, otherwise neither of you would ever see the end of it.

#black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you

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literaryvein-reblogs · 3 days ago

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Writing Ideas: Evil Plan

This trope is the reason "villains act, heroes react"; the villain needs to be doing something evil or the hero has no evil to thwart.

Some popular examples of Evil Plans:

Take Over the World: This is the most popular villainous scheme of all. The scale of conquest can vary depending on the setting and (or) the villain—some warlords are content to settle with conquering a city, a kingdom or nation, while Science Fiction or Fantasy overlords will go for nothing less than galactic, universal or even multidimensional domination.

The Evils of Free Will: A popular means to this end: by robbing everyone of their free will, they will have no choice but to serve their rightful ruler.

Assimilation Plot: Let's turn everyone into a single entity, whether they wish it or not.

Earth-Shattering Kaboom: Why take over the world when you can blow it up? Like Take Over the World, the scale of destruction also varies depending on the setting — some villains are content with merely destroying a city or kingdom (particularly if they feel the city or kingdom has somehow wronged them — i.e., revenge), while Omnicidal Maniacs may well wish nothing less than to destroy the entire universe or multiverse.

Kill All Humans. Related tropes: Feeling Oppressed by Their Existence: A character wants to get rid of a particular person or group of people just for existing. Absolute Xenophobe: Wants to destroy all other sentient life (human or otherwise). Omnicidal Maniac: Wants to destroy absolutely all life, sentient or not. Final Solution: The intentional extermination of a species/demographic is the answer to fix a perceived issue. Humanity's Wake: The outcome of this trope should the opposing species succeed in eradicating us.

In Their Own Image: Not happy with the world the way it is? Try tearing it down, and building it back up as something even greater.

The End of the World as We Know It: Not so much destroying the world or humanity as really screwing up civilization; though the former two may be involved in the bargain.

A God Am I: Forcing everyone to acknowledge their godhood (actual godlike powers optional).

Godhood Seeker: Make your character an actual deity.

Immortality Seeker: Pursue the quest for eternal life, no matter what foul deeds are needed to make it happen.

A Plot in Deed: Steal the deed to a plot of land and you'll own it, so why not steal the deed to somewhere good?

MacGuffin: Steal an ancient artifact with untold powers. This is usually done in the pursuit of one of the other Evil Plans.

Sealed Evil in a Can: Release the source of all Evil from its prison. This rarely goes well for the villain attempting it.

Revenge: You know that guy that wronged you in the past? It doesn't matter how petty or misplaced your grievance is, it's payback time. Time to kill him, or make his life a living hell.

Get-Rich-Quick Scheme: If you're already rich, get richer. Any scheme is fair game in the pursuit of the profit margin, be it theft, blackmail, or auctioning the world off to hungry demons. Unfortunately, this lust for wealth falls prey to poor planning.

Utopia Justifies the Means: You know how people keep hurting themselves and each other? Make them stop, by whatever means are necessary. No ill will required! Just like in Take Over the World, The Evils of Free Will often gets put into play here.

Dystopia Justifies the Means: People hurting each other? That's exactly what your society needs. Use all the means at your disposal to create a nightmarish dystopia where the forces of evil run rampant and people live in constant terror and corruption, just the way the villains like it.

Poke the Poodle: Their idea of evil is harmless behavior like cheating at Solitaire, jaywalking on an empty road, chewing gum in Singapore, pulling the "do not remove" tag off of your mattress, hiding your toothpaste, drinking the milk directly from the carton...

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messenger-of-babel · 20 hours ago

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Bruce Wayne Who...

Summary: Thoughts about your relationship with Bruce Wayne.

Word Count: 1.6K

Notes: So Sorry for the longgg absence. I won't explain it too much but I've had serious health complications that require me to go to the doctor weekly and I've been struggling with that a lot. Half of the Christmas event unpublished stories are done- but I don't want to upload them half baked. I will be uploading them around my original schedule of normal fics, so I'm so sorry this all happened while I was doing that Christmas Countdown. So if you see unseasonal content- that is why. I will ask to refer to the notes section of some of the fics before this. I will be trying to deliver more- please be patient and thank you for reading! (I'm working on my requests next so you'll seen them soon <333)

Love RiRi <3

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Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

had sworn off dating. Being a vigilante was enough work on his plate, and he had already involved too many innocent people. He had already made too many people join him in on his night life, like he was a black hole that sucked in anything around it and slowly suffocated its prey. The playboy image also helped him keep his cover up. After all, who could dare point a finger at Bruce Wayne and claim him to be the Bat, when he was spending the night at the Iceberg Lounge? How could he be the one tracking down criminals from Arkham when he had a supermodel on his arm at the mayor’s winter gala?

Thinking about a Bruce Wayne who…

Has to throw that all out of the window the moment that he catches sight of you. When he meets your eyes for only a moment across the sea of people at the Gotham Museums grand reopening, to which he had donated personal items of his family's. His heart lurches in his chest and adrenaline courses through his veins like he's in a fight. You look away after a moment, but he stays fixed on your form as you disappear to talk to some of the curators. Bruce takes a deep sip of his champagne; mind muddled suddenly and distracted the rest of the evening as Alfred drives him home.