#He played with her feelings like they were nothing. Like she was nothing

[rafelandia]

In the Middle of the Night (Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: smut, little bit of cum play, unprotected sex

Summary: Rafe can't sleep. Luckily, the antidote to his ailment is laying in bed right next to him.

Author's Note: I can't stop thinking about Rafe waking Y/N up in the middle of the night for sex. I am addicted to the trope of Rafe being an asshole to everyone except his girl, but this is more of a soft!Rafe moment than anything. If you enjoy, please give a like or reblog. And any requests for blurbs/one shots/etc. are always welcome in my inbox!

Before Y/N came along, there were many ways in which Rafe would conquer the restlessness that crept up on him in the middle of the night. He would go for a run on the beach with nothing but the moonlight to guide him, hunker down in his home office and crunch numbers, read a few chapters in his current favorite non-fiction. There were dozens of outlets Rafe had conditioned himself to do when he just couldn’t fall asleep despite knowing that he should. He was older now and staying up all night like he would as a teenager just wasn’t good for him in any capacity anymore.

All of these outlets, but they suddenly went out of the window when he met Y/N. She was unlike any other woman he had ever been with or even met before, but he supposed that’s how it always was when you were in love with someone. He swore he could stare at her features for forever, that she was more intoxicating than any substance or drink. But looking at her in the glimmering moonlight that shone through the cracked shades was not what put him to bed whenever that frustrating feeling of not being able to close his eyes came insidiously creeping into his head.

There was something about the way her hair was mussed about her head like a halo around her pillow, or maybe it was the way that she was sleeping on her stomach so that the swell of her breast peaked through the comforter. Either way, Rafe couldn’t help but feel his boxers growing tighter the longer he traced his eyes over the shape of her sleeping body next to his.

He slid his body over towards her, turning her and wrapping his arms around her body so that his front was flush with her backside. Warmth radiated from her sleeping form and his hands found their way to her breasts. Rafe began gently kneading them in aim to draw her from her slumber, but the most he got out of her was a shift in her bum on the mattress. A low rumble escaped from his chest at the way she unknowingly ground herself against his cock.

His next attempt was to go for her neck. Rafe always teased her for being so sensitive there but at the same time, there was nothing more that he loved than feeling her turn to putty in his hands when his lips roamed about the column of her throat. He started nipping at her skin with his plush, pink lips, just barely meeting his skin with hers. Goosebumps raised in response to his touch as his kisses grew sloppier. It was when he’d hit her sweet spot with his tongue that he heard the sound he’d been searching for. Rafe swears he’s never heard anything more heavenly in his entire life, that soft, half-moan half-groan that fell from her parted lips. It brought his neediness to the forefront.

“Baby,” Rafe grumbled against the crook of her neck, tickling her with his outgrown stubble.

Amidst her hazy state she was able to hum back at him, though it sounded once more like a broken moan.

“Need you to wake up,” he hoarsely whispered as he began working himself against her backside, slowly but surely rutting his hips into the skin of her bum to ease some of the tension that had built up in his cock.

He couldn’t see the way the corners of her lips turned up knowingly. She was no stranger to this Rafe, the Rafe that woke her in the middle of the night with an itch that he just couldn’t seem to scratch. It was almost comical to her, the way that he’d do just about everything in the book besides coming right out and telling her that he was in the mood. Sometimes, she’d tease him and pretend to be asleep longer than she actually was before turning over and giving him what he wanted, but not tonight. Unbeknownst to Rafe, he had stirred her from quite the dream, so there was no need to dance around the ledge this time.

With a sigh, she resituated herself in the bed, turning in Rafe's arms so that their faces sat mere inches from each other.

“Hi,” she sang through her sleep-ridden voice.

“Hi,” Rafe repeated back to her in the same groggy tone. "Can't sleep?" she asked, a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

He gave no response - just a lazy smirk in return. Even in the darkness, Y/N noticed a flush rising up his neck and cheeks. He'd been caught.

“Need some help?” she quirked her brow and gestured downwards to the tent in his boxers.

“Maybe,” he answered with a sleepy chuckle.

She knocked him on his back so that she was straddling his waist and sitting on his now painfully hard cock; the feathered duvet now pooled at their knees. Rafe hissed at the commotion, but the feeling soon turned to bliss when her hands snuck into the waistband of his boxers and she took his length in her fingers. It felt heavy in her grip as she smeared the silky beads of precum along his tip, coating him in preparation to make home within her tight, warm walls.

“I was dreamin’ about you,” she spoke lowly as she gently twisted her wrist around his cock, reveling in the way Rafe's brows were furrowing together in response to her touch.

“Yeah?” he jested.

“Mhmm,” she hummed, ���We were kinda like how we are now. But this is much better,” she finished with a tantilizing pump of her hand.

Rafe's hips jutted into her fist, wanting more than just her teasing touches. It almost made her laugh aloud, how needy he could be in the middle of the night like this. She wanted him just as much, only due to her still-drowsy state, she was able to control it.

She leaned down and laid her body flush with Rafe's as she kissed him for the first time since he’d woke her. They tasted of the remnants of their minty toothpaste and mostly of morning breath, but that was the furthest thing from their minds. Rafe held her close to him as his tongue slipped between her lips, aching to get her going as quickly as he could. His arms slid under the ratty Kildare High School t-shirt of his that she slept in so he could lift it off of her frame, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second before they were intertwined again.

Once her chest was free of clothing, Rafe ran his hands along the sides of her breasts and spine, chilling her skin with his cold hands. He ducked his head down to kiss the center of her chest and then outwards to her wrap his plump lips around her erect nipples. Those velvety, smooth sighs of hers turned into the moans that Rafe adored oh-so dearly. Y/N began to feel the wetness from her core pool at the front of her panties. One of her hands cradled his neck, snugly but not tightly as she kissed him, but she was able to move the other down to grip his cock in her digits once more.

“Y/N," Rafe pleaded, his hazy, hungry eyes peering up at her. He needed her to do something, anything before he lost his whits.

She locked eyes with Rafe as she sank down slowly, splitting herself on top of him. Rafe always swore that the way the wrinkle between her brows reared itself and her lips parted just slightly when she first felt his cock first enter her was by far his favorite face of hers. Well, his second favorite, apart from the face she made when she came, he supposed. He gripped onto her hips tightly as she lowered herself fully onto him, exhaling a sigh of relief when she made it all of the way down to the base of his cock.

They soon found their rhythm, Y/n bouncing and rolling her hips against his while they chased their highs. Her early morning sensitivity caused her to melt in Rafe's arms with the way his tip was able to brush against all of the sweetest spots that made her eyes roll back into her head and a shiver run down her spine.

All that was heard in the otherwise silent room were sounds of wet skin meeting harshly each time she pushed herself back onto Rafe. Their lips chased each other in between thrusts, eager to be as close to each other as they possibly could. Sweat pooled in the dip of her back and in the grooves of Rafe's toned stomach, the two of them yearning to reach their ends.

Y/n's bouncing soon turned to lazy, barely motivated rocking as she found herself almost physically unable to continue. The tendons in her thighs were screaming for relief and the heat that surrounded her made her feel like she was trapped in a sauna. She could feel herself right there, right on the brink of getting to where she needed to be, but she was growing frustrated that she wouldn't be able to get them both there on her own.

“Rafe,” Y/N whined as she gripped both of Rafe's shoulders tightly, knuckles growing white from the hold she had on them.

He sensed her weariness, but he was waiting to see how long it would take her to beg for him to take control of the two of them.

She raised her eyes from being buried in Rafe's neck to look at him.

“Please,” she moaned.

“I've got you, baby,” he huffed, barely able to spit the words out between each manual breath.

With one fluid motion, he had her flipped over onto her back and plunged back into her soaking cunt once more. Y/N cried out at the new angle of Rafe on top of her, watching his dainty, silver chain dangle inches away from her face.

“Gonna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that," Rafe muttered into her ear as he mouthed against her neck, “You gonna cum for me first though. Right angel?”

He continued to drill his cock into her heat, each time brushing against the spongey part of her walls that made her thighs shake and reflexively want to close. Rafe caught wind of her trembling and forced her legs open with one of his strong, veiny hands, pressing it even deeper into her chest with his other arm pressed deep into the mattress to balance his body on top of hers. Their stomachs brushed against each other with every thrust, only adding to the overwhelming sensations that they were both feeling.

“Your pussy's so perfect. Like it was made for me," Rafe moaned. "Gonna fuck you like this every night for the rest of my life."

His words of encouragement took her right back to where she was before, right at the brink of breaking. Her moans went up an octave and Rafe could tell by the way she had started to clench around him that she wasn’t going to last much longer. He knew for certain that with the way that her cunt was so expertly gripping his cock that he wasn’t that far behind her.

"Need you to cum, baby. Need to feel it," Rafe was nearing his breaking point, but knew he couldn't be satisfied without feeling her clench around him first.

Unable to speak due to the way he was pounding into her, Y/N gripped Rafe's shoulders even harder than he was fucking her in response. This made Rafe cockily smile and only pushed him to fuck her more fervently and deeper. His hips would certainly leave light purple bruises on hers come morning.

Her release sprung on her quickly, her walls spasming around Rafe's thick, pulsing cock. Y/N let out a sound akin to a high-pitched whine blended perfectly with a scream - it was so beautiful to him. Her orgasm came so suddenly that it caught Rafe off guard as well; he had but mere moments before he found himself filling her up with his warm, milky seed. It was so sudden and intense that it seeped out from around his cock and onto the plush, silky sheets.

They rode it out together, Rafe pumping into her slower and sloppier than just minutes before. Y/N was becoming overwhelmed with the sensation and he was quick to pick up on it. Rafe pulled out slowly, watching Y/N wince as her now-swollen heat contracted around nothing but emptiness. He ran his fingers along her pussy, collecting her wetness and his cum on his digits before gently pressing the mixture back into her core. She hissed at the feeling of him inside of her again and it made Rafe's dick twitch. He could easily go again, but he knew that she couldn't. It was intoxicating to watch her squirm. Next time he thought to himself. He loved to drive her crazy.

They both laid there, Rafe resting his full weight on top of her while they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeats return back to their resting rate. She twiddled with the clasp of Rafe's chain while he pecked soft kisses on her sweat-slick breast with his lips.

"I love you," Y/N sighed, her eyes beginning to close as she teetered the line of consciousness.

"I love you, too," Rafe was just as exhausted as she was. Finally.

When they regained their bearings, Rafe reached across the bed for the shirt he’d pulled off of her body. With caring hands, he cleaned the two of them, tossing the soiled garment somewhere off into the floor to be dealt with in the morning.

“Thank you,” Rafe mumbled into her skin as he crawled back into the covers with her and pulled her into his arms once more.

“Anytime,” she laughed, still somewhat out of breath.

“But will you please go to sleep now? You have a presentation in the morning and you only wake me up to fuck when you can’t sleep so I’m assuming you’ve been awake this whole time,” she sounded like a parent talking to Rafe, which while he would never admit, he adored.

She felt Rafe's laugh reverberate off her chest and shake her body, to which he then promised her he’d be good and go to bed.

Rafe could go on midnight runs and read as much as he could, but nothing could put him to sleep as easily as this.

[zylusmusings]

"what do you think our wedding will be like?" she asks, and rafayel feels his heart still immediately. he gives it a second, letting the two sides of his heart battle it out.

a part of him feels giddy - she wants to be his bride again. it will happen again, because they are fated mates! all of the worrying was for nothing because look! she wants to get married, bonded to him again. sure, the "sanctity" of marriage amongst humans on this earth is laughable and ludicrous compared to the solemn oath he literally has embedded to his chest... but he'll take it nonetheless. he'll take anything she has to offer, honestly.

albeit the other part of him wants to sulk and throw a tantrum. because this question is simply yet another reminder of what was left to be forgotten. the fact that she was already his bride, but the fact to be so horridly and devastatingly taken away from him. ripped away from his clutching fingers. sea of god he may be, but the strength of fate has no competition. what a painful reminder that question is, to be reminded, oh yeah you were my bride... until?..

rafayel doesn't realise that dancing around the two emotions has taken some time. purple eyes swirling with mixed emotions as his lips are pursed to the side in silence. this reaction causes her to shift nervously, afraid that she's made him uncomfortable with the question.

she clears her throat soon after, sitting up after spending hours on the couch with him, slouching against the backrest as his purple hair splays out against her chest. the movement shakes him out of his trance, a brief moment of confusion (and a dramatic look of "how could you!”) plastered on his face as he turns around, sitting up for the first time in 2 hours as well. he faces his blushing partner who is clearly flustered at his lack of response.

"um.. i mean - i'm not saying we will definitely get married or like whatever, it was just a question. i don't even know if you wanna marry me. again, it was just a question, you don't have to answer it if you-"

he gasps dramatically, brows furrowed deeply as he scoots away from her in bewilderment. "did you say you don't even know if i want to marry you?" he scoffs, standing up and begins to pace around the room. "is my devotion and quite frankly obvious and constant yearning for you not enough? for you to even question that?"

"rafayel, i-" "maybe the hunter's association should put you on bed rest if your brain's not functioning properly. oh perhaps, it's not the brain, it's your heart and its inability to feel the love i have for you. is that right, hm?"

"rafayel," she repeats louder this time, sighing. "that was not what i meant - i just. you went completely silent on me when i asked the question, so i thought you felt uncomfortable with the topic of marriage." shrugging, the red on her cheeks deepens as a replay of the scene comes to mind. she shrivels into herself, crossing her legs as she begins to play with the loose threads of her sweater. "and i know we’ve never talked about it either, so i shouldn't have just sprung it on you like that."

his face softens immediately, guilt pricking his chest as he watches the vulnerability she was expressing. while she wasn't exactly wrong - the topic of marriage does make him uncomfortable. as much as he wants her to be his bride, it’ll undoubtedly open new doors for pain all over again. but as uncomfortable it is, rafayel knows that she is someone he'd carve his own heart out for (well....).

"you have nothing to apologise for." he tells her gently, the tone contrasting the loud rant he performed earlier, and he's back on the couch, crawling onto the space next to her. his fingers are careful, he reminds himself he's holding onto his reason of being, his kyrptonite, the atoms of sunlight itself. he feels his stomach flip, and the soft warmth that begins to exude from the side of his chest tells him that if she peeked underneath his shirt, she'd bear witness to the physical embodiment of his sacred vow. "it threw me off guard, yes. but only because i've been keeping it myself for far too long, cutie." he smiles, still ever so gentle as his thumb caresses the smooth of her cheek.

"i’ve known that i have wanted to marry you for years now," and while she'll take that as a mere dramatisation (rafayel being rafayel), he means that as literally as it gets. only he knows about the pain, humiliation and fear that comes with the wait and for a moment, he's grateful that she doesn't know. he doesn't want her to be burdened with such hardship-filled emotions, so he'll carry it for the both of them.

"you won't be in white - maybe a light shade of blue. i'll obviously wear the best suit ever to be worn. we'll have a ceremony by the beach," he's speaking straight from the vision he's replayed in his mind countless of times, the smile on his face unconsciously growing as he mindlessly twirls a piece of her hair. "you'll have your hair down, and it'll probably get caught in the sea breeze - but it just makes sense to me."

"and," he pauses for a moment, hesitating before he continues. "we'll say our vows twice. one for everyone to bear witness to, and one just for you and me." a vow so sacred and intimate, rafayel refuses to share with the world. he refuses to taint it even a little bit, it should simply be meant only for his lover and him, and his pure everlasting love for her.

"oh." he has rendered her speechless, and now it's rafayel's turn to be nervous, fearing he has made her uncomfortable. hiding the embarrassment behind a scoff, he pulls away with a pout. "y-you were the one who brought it up first!" immediately, she shakes her head and pulls him back into her chest and rafayel doesn't fight his body when it relaxes immediately. "i was just a little surprised, raf - in a good way. didn't think you would've had all these little details in mind already." her voice mirrors his previously gentle one, and rafayel feels his eyes flutter shut, coaxed by her fingers running through his hair.

she hesitates, but braves herself to say it. time and again, once peeling off his layers, she's beared witness to his endless courage so why not walk in his footsteps? "i do hope we get married." her voice is quieter, but it speaks volumes to him. he feels a lump form in his throat at the emotions that begin to overflow within him. he reaches out to catch onto her hand that's combing through his hair and brings it to his chest in attempts to quell the tears that threaten to form behind his closed lids.

shakily, his lips whisper against her knuckles, "in my mind, we already are."

in his world, they already were. how lucky was he to get married to her, again and again, and again.

god, he'd do it a million times over.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ⸻

Pairing: Dark Aegon I Targaryen x Fem Reader

Summary: Aegon spends his life desperately trying to win the love of his sister. And yet he's never enough.

Warning: Non-Con (rape), targcest, physical violence, murder, obsessive and delusional behavior, child loss/grief.

Notes: English is not my first language. Art belong to Denis Maznev. Hope you enjoy!

She was always there.

From his earliest memories, her face is etched in his mind like a cold, pale moon. She never smiled, never laughed. Never cried. Just looked. Always watching, always silent. Even as children, while Rhaenys played with him, she was a shadow in the background. A constant presence that gnawed at him, her cold eyes watching him with that empty gaze. It was as if nothing could move her, nothing could please her. But he tried. Gods, how he tried.

He was barely seven, still small but proud of the sword his father had given him. He had trained for hours, his arms aching, his legs sore, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to show her. He wanted her to see him—really see him—for once.

He had run to her, his little chest puffed out with pride, holding his wooden practice sword like it was Blackfyre itself. "Look! Look what I can do!" he had said, his voice bright with excitement. He swung the sword in wide arcs, spinning and thrusting as best as his small body could manage. "Did you see that? I’m going to be a great warrior! You’ll see!"

But she just stood there. Watching. Her face expressionless, her eyes cold, as if she hadn’t seen anything at all. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even blink. It was like he wasn’t there, like his efforts were meaningless.

He had felt something tighten in his chest then, a feeling he didn’t understand. A hollow ache that made his hands shake as he gripped the sword tighter. He tried again, swinging harder, faster. "Are you watching?!" he had shouted, frustration leaking into his voice.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything.

She never did.

And that’s how it always was. Every time he tried, every time he showed her something—his victories in the yard, his skills in battle—she just watched. Her cold eyes always on him but never giving him what he craved. Never giving him anything.

But then, that day came. The day that broke something inside him.

He remembers the sound first. The sound of her laughing. It was so foreign, so unexpected that he almost didn’t believe it at first. He had stopped in his tracks, heart racing, the sound of her laughter echoing in his ears like the sweetest music he’d ever heard. For a moment, just a moment, he thought it was meant for him. Finally, he thought, she was laughing. She was happy. Maybe, just maybe, he had done something to make her feel.

But then he saw it.

She wasn’t laughing with him. She wasn’t laughing for him.

She was laughing with a man. Some nobody. A fool. A good-for-nothing who could never even begin to understand her, let alone deserve her. And yet, there she was, her eyes shining, her lips curved into a smile—something Aegon had never seen in all his life. She was radiant, her laughter like music, but it wasn’t for him.

The rage came fast, burning through his veins like fire. How dare this man, this insignificant speck, be the one to bring her joy? How dare she smile for him, laugh for him, when she had never once given Aegon anything but that cold, dead stare? He could hardly see through the fury as he drew his sword, his heart pounding in his ears, and with one swift strike, he cut the man’s head clean off.

The blood sprayed across the floor as the man's body crumpled to the ground, lifeless, useless. And Aegon, triumphant, stood there holding the severed head, his heart racing with the thought that maybe now—now—she would see how much he loved her.

He brought the head to her, a smile tugging at his lips, presenting it like a gift, like an offering to a goddess.

But then, for the first time, he saw her cry.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, silent, like everything else about her. She didn’t wail or scream, just wept, her cold, distant eyes filled with sorrow. But not for him. Never for him. The realization hit him like a dagger to the chest. She wasn’t crying for him. She was mourning the other man, that worthless fool.

Could she not see? Could she not understand what he had done? He had killed for her. For her. To prove his love. Why couldn’t she see that?

It was worse now. So much worse.

He stands in the room, their child’s room, staring at the small bed where their son had once slept. His heart is heavy, his chest tight with grief that he can’t seem to swallow. Tears burn in his eyes, but he doesn’t care. Their child is dead. Gone. And he can barely breathe from the weight of it.

But when he looks at her, she’s standing by the window, her back to him, staring out into the night as if nothing had happened. As if their son wasn’t lying cold and still in the crypts below.

She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t even move.

His son, their child, lay lifeless, and yet...she didn’t care. She couldn’t care. The realization gnawed at him, twisting in his chest like a knife. If it had been another man’s child, would she be mourning now? Would she cry for that child, like she had cried for that worthless fool?

"Do you...do you not care?" His voice cracks, the words barely a whisper. He feels like he’s choking on the silence. "He was our child. Our son." His hands tremble, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Why… why?"

She doesn’t answer. Of course, she doesn’t.

She never answers.

The hollow ache that had plagued him since childhood is back, sharper than ever. He stares at her, at her still, cold form, and something inside him snaps. He can feel it, like a tether breaking, a dam bursting inside his mind.

"Why?" he growls, his voice low, trembling with fury. "Why can’t you love me? Is it really so hard?!" He steps toward her, fists clenched, his heart hammering in his chest. "I’ve done everything for you. Everything!"

His hands shake as he grabs her by the shoulders, spinning her around to face him. She looks at him with that same blank, emotionless expression, her eyes cold and distant, as if she’s not even here. As if she’s not even alive.

"I killed for you!" His voice is rising, desperate, wild. "I’ve fought for you, bled for you! I’ve done everything you could ever want, but you—" He pauses, his breath coming in harsh gasps as a dark, twisted thought coils in his mind. "Is this because of him? Because I killed that servant? Did you really think he could love you more than I do? That he deserved you? Him?"

His grip tightens, fingers digging into her flesh. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rage coursing through his veins. "I am the one who loves you. I’m the one who’s always loved you!"

She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t react. Just stares at him with those empty, cold eyes.

The silence is unbearable. It breaks him.

With a roar, he grabs her dress, tearing at the fabric, ripping it apart in his hands. He’s rough, vicious, his fingers leaving bruises on her pale skin as he forces himself onto her.

She doesn’t fight back. Doesn’t scream. She just lies there, blank, her body cold and still beneath his. The more she doesn’t react, the harder he thrusts, the rougher he becomes, as if he can force her to feel something—anything. He can feel the blood, can see the bruises forming on her skin, but she just keeps staring at him, those empty eyes boring into him, cold and unfeeling.

But it didn’t matter.

She will love me. She will.

"You will love me," he growls, his voice low and savage, each thrust more brutal than the last. "You will love me. You’ll see. I’ll make you."

But she doesn’t change. She never changes.

Even as her body bleeds, even as he takes her in the most violent, twisted way, she just looks at him with that same cold, distant stare. As if he’s nothing. As if nothing will ever be enough.

Her eyes stayed cold.

Her eyes stayed empty.

And still, he kept going.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ｖｅｒｙ ｂａｄ ｔｈｉｎｇｓ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!wooyoung x chubby!fem!stripper!reader, other members mentioned

♡ Genre: smut

♡ Summary: When your best friend ropes you into working a bachelor party with her on your day off you're positive you know exactly what to expect. A bunch of gross drunk guys trying to put their hands on you. Instead you stumble into the exact opposite situation, finding yourself drawn to one man in particular who has you doing something you never thought you would.

♡ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: woo offers you money for sex and you take it, tattooed woo, drinking, partying, this man really likes licking you, low-key body worship, teasing, pentrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, tit sucking, manhandling, multiple orgasms, orgasm control, a lil dom woo if you squint, a lil pain play, pet names (good girl, pretty, beautiful, cutie, baby), and that's about it babes.

♡ A/N: What can I say? I love Wooyoung. I love mafia boys. I love thicc strippers. Mix all that with a lengthy Megan thee Stallion playlist and this is where I ended up. As always, I hope my chubby hot girls out there enjoy this. Love yeeew ♡

This was supposed to be your night off. You should be bed rotting in your pajamas while you shovel snacks into your mouth and binge your favorite K-drama. Instead you’re half naked in the penthouse suite of some posh high rise straddling the lap of a pretty dark haired boy who just knocked back a shot of tequila and is seconds away from licking the salt from your cleavage.

You let out a giggle at how his tongue tickles as it drags along your skin. Your fingers tangle in his hair, your sparkly pink acrylics swirling in the silky strands as you tilt his head back to let him bite down on the lime wedged between your plush lips. He grins from ear to ear, arms looping around your waist to bring you closer. Your lips are dangerously close to touching. If his cock straining against his pants didn’t give away how badly he’d love for that to happen, that lust filled glimmer in his eyes would.

When he sucks the juice from the lime you pluck it from his mouth, delicately licking the last drop from his bottom lip. He lets out a groan too low for anyone else to hear over the music that fills the penthouse but you hear it. You feel it.

“So, what’s your name again, sugar?” you ask, tugging at his hair a little harder. His eyes nearly roll back at how satisfying the pain is. 

“Wooyoung, sugar. What’s yours?” he whispers, sliding his hands down to cup your ass. You’re wearing a thong, leaving almost nothing between the warmth of his palms and the smooth skin of your ass. He gives it a gentle squeeze and you let out an airy moan that falls on his tongue as sweet as candy. 

“Mmmm” you hum, grinding down on his clothed cock just enough to make it twitch, “Be a good boy tonight and maybe I’ll tell you.” 

Your best friend Anya flicks at one of the silver star charms decorating your hair as she walks by hand in hand with an equally pretty boy you’re sure you heard someone call “Yeosang” earlier.  

“She’s not being a tease is she?” she jokes.

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting her hand away, “I’m not a tease.” 

Wooyoung only shrugs, “She is a tease but that’s okay. I like it.” He squeezes your ass harder and a little squeak escapes you. 

“Hey! I said you had to be good” you scold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. 

He releases his hold on you, fingertips petting the small of your back, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”

“You swear?” you pout, enjoying how easily he’s gotten wrapped around your finger. 

Wooyoung raises a pinky and hooks it around yours, “Pinky swear.”

For a fleeting moment you catch yourself falling for his charms. It’s difficult not to when he’s this hot. In fact, every man in this room is drop dead gorgeous. When Anya first asked you to work this bachelor party with her you were dreading it. Bachelor parties are usually filled with drunk, messy men who can barely string a sentence together let alone be charming.

It’s always good money but you weren’t in the mood to be gawked at by a bunch of asshole frat boys or handsy businessmen so you had every intention of telling her no. You much preferred your bed to a second of that but after all the times she’s had your back you couldn’t bring yourself not to do her this favor so you threw on your cutest lingerie, strapped on your stilettos, and got your cute ass over here. 

Much to your surprise and relief this is nothing like other bachelor parties you’ve worked. Of course they wanna see you naked. They wanna touch you, watch you dance for them. That’s the same with every man. But this group is so generous, so sweet, so willing to tend to the two of you that you’ve almost forgotten that you were working.

“Could you be a sweetheart and grab me a drink?” you ask, batting your eyelashes, “My throat’s a little dry and someone drank my last shot of tequila.” That someone being him. 

Wooyoung laughs, lifting you off of him and placing you carefully at his side, “Of course. Anything for you. What do you want?”

As Wooyoung rises from the couch you swing your feet up and he catches you by the ankles, slowly massaging your legs. You shrug, nibbling at your lip while his hands slip closer to your pillowy thighs, “Surprise me.”

“Surprise you…” he nods, his fingers sinking into your thighs, “Okay. I can do that.” He leans forward, kissing the inside of your knees before he wanders off to get you a drink.

Lying back on the couch you catch an inverted view of Anya chatting up Yeosang and finding any excuse to feel his muscles through his shirt. After a bit another man slips in beside her. You’re able to eavesdrop close enough to hear her say his name. Jongho. You’re sure he’s the youngest of the group. He’s quiet, difficult to read, but such a cutie. 

Speaking of cuties, you wonder how the man of the night is doing. Hongjoong—that’s the one name you absolutely had to remember—he’s the one getting married in a few days and you must admit his fiance’s one lucky girl. He was kind when the two of you arrived, offering you drinks and making sure you settled in fine, but he’s acted so innocent all night.

You’re sure he still hasn’t moved from that spot in the corner where he’s been sitting nursing the same drink all night. Every few minutes he checks his phone. You’re sure it’s to text his fiance. Some girls might be offended by that but you can’t bring yourself to care. You find it quite sweet actually and you get paid either way.

“Aaah…” you gasp at the sensation of something cool kissing your skin. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you look up to find Wooyoung standing over you balancing an ice cold glass of something on your belly. 

He giggles at the shock on your face, sliding it up your body to watch how your back arches in response. “For you, pretty girl.”

Carefully you take the glass, admiring the electric blue syrup swirling around inside of it. You raise it to your lips, sipping at the sweet liquid. Wooyoung kneels down beside you, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind your ear as you drink. He studies your side profile in silent fascination, admiring all of the finer details of your face. It’s a cliche thought, he knows this, but he can’t help wondering how such a delicately beautiful creature ended up in a line of work like this. Then again, with a face like this and a body like that, why wouldn’t you make men pay to be in your presence?

“How’s it taste?” he asks, only barely breaking himself from his trance.

His voice is low and dripping with need. His breath skims your neck like a trail of kisses and you catch yourself wishing that it were. Your pulse races, the tingling between your thighs growing too intense to ignore. You turning a guy on at work? It happens everyday. A guy turning you on? That’s never happened before, not during a single night on the job, but there’s a first time for everything isn’t there?

“You tell me,” you say, offering him a sip. As you do so your hand trembles enough for some of the alcohol to spill over the brim and onto your fingers. 

Wooyoung locks eyes with you, deep pools of brown pulling you into his gaze. Setting the glass down on the floor, he takes you by the wrist, gently stroking it as he presses your fingers to his lips. His tongue darts out, twirling around each and every finger to lick them clean. You never could’ve predicted that something like this would get you wet but here you are. That tingling between your thighs? It’s unbearable now. You squeeze them together, bringing your attention to how wet he’s managed to get you. You hate it and love it all at once. 

“You taste delicious” he grins, kissing your inner wrist. 

It makes you shiver and you pull your hand back, fighting to get a hold on yourself, “I thought we were talking about the drink, not me.”

Wooyoung shrugs, running his fingers down your side, “I don’t know, were we?” 

You should stop him but lust has you locked in place, letting his hand venture below your waist without a word of protest on your part. He squeezes the plush of your thigh, tucking a thumb between them so that it hovers a mere inch away from the wet fabric clinging to your warmth. In this moment everyone else in the room fades away. Even the music seems as if it’s traveled miles to reach your ears. You can only focus on each other. The way your breath hitches the closer he gets to stroking your clit through the lace. The way his eyes seem to twinkle as he watches you grow more and more needy for him as the seconds pass. His thumb’s so close you can almost feel it. Something in you tells you to shift your body down on the couch a little bit, close the distance and give yourself that relief you want so badly. 

“You didn’t pay for that” you snap, shooing his hand away, “That’s not on the menu, babe.” 

Without missing a beat Wooyoung retrieves his phone from his back pocket, swiping on the screen a few times before handing it over to you. It’s a CashApp screen and the keyboard’s already up for you to type your name into the search bar.

“Can I request something off the menu then?”

You shoot upright on the couch, shocked by what you see on the screen. “You’re joking” you laugh, motioning to hand his phone back.

Wooyoung stops you before you can, his expression more serious than you’ve seen it all night. “I want you.”

“You can’t afford me.”

“Try me…”

You wait for him to give it up but he doesn’t waver, not in the slightest. You huff, finding your account and tapping in an amount triple your fee for dancing. “There. You happy?” 

Wooyoung happily takes his phone back, hitting a single button before presenting you with the screen. “As long as you are.”

“Holy shit” you gasp, eyes glued to the screen. He actually did it. He sent you the money. Truth be told if he kept up all the teasing you probably would’ve slept with him before the night was over anyway but the fact that he was willing to pay for it? That’s a twist you didn’t see coming. 

“You…you’re crazy” you giggle, cupping that wonderfully defined face of his, “Fucking insane.”

Wooyoung doesn’t seem offended by that in the least. In fact, he takes it as a compliment. “But you like it…” he grins as he stands back up, sweeping your drink up with one hand and extending the other to you, “Don’t you?” 

You stare at him defiantly, refusing to respond. Not that you need to. The answer’s written all over your face in that faint smile you couldn’t chase away if you tried. A smile that lingers there as he takes you by the hand, guiding you down the nearby hallway and into the master bedroom of the penthouse.

The rest of the penthouse is gorgeous, the sort of place you only see in design magazines, and the master bedroom’s no different. It’s dimly lit with soft white light emitting from a sleek Swedish lamp in the corner. The pristine white walls are adorned with intricate paintings, all originals. All of the furniture’s designer, most notably the king size bed positioned across the room opposite ceiling to floor windows that overlook the city. You’re up much too high for anyone to see you but it feels like you can see the whole world from here. 

Wooyoung quickly takes notice of how charmed you are by the view. “You can check it out if you want,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, “I’m not in a rush.” He can’t hold back his amusement at how giddy you are rushing over to the window to take in the sights. You’re quite possibly the cutest thing ever. 

“Whose place is this anyway?” you ask, unable to peel yourself away from the twinkling lights of the city below. Usually you steer clear of personal questions—it’s better that way—but something about Wooyoung makes you comfortable enough to ask. 

Chugging the rest of your drink, he lays back on the bed, glaring up at the spiraling design on the ceiling. “You remember the tall one? Kinda goofy?”

You run down a mental list of the boys at the party and narrow it down to two. “Which one?”

Wooyoung nearly chokes laughing, “Which one? Oh my god.”

“What?” you pout, truly not meaning any harm, “There’s two of them.”

“Mingi, the one with the deep voice. This is his place. He moved in, I don’t know, a month ago. Nice isn’t it?”

“Do you all live like this?” There you go again, asking questions you know you shouldn’t.

Wooyoung turns to look at you, his reflection immediately capturing your attention. “For the most part, yeah.”

You spin around to face him, on the verge of melting under the heat of his gaze, “Are you a drug dealer or something, Woo?”

He lets that question linger in the air, gesturing for you to come to him. “Come here, beautiful. You’re too far away.”

You skip over to the bed, your body jiggling so deliciously that he’s tempted to send you back over to the window just to see you come back again. Hopping onto the bed, you throw one leg across his waist, straddling his lap. “Better?”

He cups your cheek, bringing you in so that you’re face to face, his lips skimming yours once more. “Better.” 

“You didn’t answer my question” you whisper, rocking your hips against a bulge that’s even harder for you than before. 

Wooyoung loops an arm around your waist, keeping you flush against him, “If I answer your question will you tell me your name?”

“Mmhmm” you whine at the friction between you.

The fabric of your panties is flimsy enough that you can feel the texture of his pants—the pressure of his cock straining against them. It makes your mind go fuzzy. Wooyoung knows this because you’re doing the same to him.

“I’m a very bad man who does very bad things but not that. Not anymore” he confesses, flipping you onto your back in one effortless motion.

Any attempt you could’ve made to respond is silenced when his lips finally crash into yours. You teased him for hours, taking every opportunity to almost kiss him knowing from the start how badly he wanted you. Now that he can finally have you—satisfy the hunger that’s been building inside all night—he’s ravenous, holding nothing back.

“Your turn” he whispers between your lips, flipping you onto your back in one fluid motion, not once breaking the kiss. 

The room’s still spinning when you part your lips to answer his question. As a rule you always give a fake name—one of the pretty ones that you and Anya came up with to stop creeps from finding you out in the real world—but for some reason you can’t lie to Wooyoung. With him kissing you like he wants to devour your very soul, the only possible thing you can spill out is the truth.

Wooyoung kisses his way down your neck, inhaling the sugary scent of your perfume as he drags his tongue between your breasts. “Such a pretty name. I like it.”

“I…I like your name too” you stutter, fingers combing through his hair, “Wooyoung’s a pretty name.”

Catching the fabric of your top between his teeth, he tugs harshly, causing the knots holding it together to slip. Your lush breasts fall free from your top, the tiny hairs on your arm standing up at the feeling of your stiff buds brushing the fabric of his shirt. 

“Mmm, say it again” he groans, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple, “It sounds so fucking good when you say it.” 

Taking your bud between his teeth, he sucks harshly at it, treating you to a combination of pain and pleasure that’s nothing short of addictive. Wedging a knee between your legs, he pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to knot your panties in his fist. Your body jerks as he snatches them away, leaving your dripping pussy exposed. Slipping two fingers between your folds, he spreads you open, letting his middle finger slide back and forth across your clit. 

“Wooyoung…mmph…” you moan, arching into his touch, “Woo…aah”. 

Wooyoung dips his fingers down to your clenching hole, stretching you open enough to give you a taste of what your body’s begging for.

“You want more, baby?” he teases, drooling around your swollen nipple. 

“Yes, please” you beg, your breath hitching as his fingers, already slick with your arousal, push into you. 

His movements are slow at first. Two fingers sliding in and out of you, gently stroking your pulsing walls. Your walls are so velvety and warm that he could spend all night petting them. No pussy’s ever felt this good wound around his fingers. His cock aches at the thought of how heavenly it must be to be inside of you. But that’s not truly where his head is right now. He’s solely focused on sneaking a third finger into your pussy, quickening his pace to make sure you never stop making all these pretty noises.

Wooyoung’s fingers are like magic and he’s insanely attentive, effortlessly picking up on your sweet spots and hitting them every single time. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, pushing you so close to your high that your lips are quivering. Wooyoung may be a very bad man who does very bad things but he’s so so good to you.

You tug at his hair, wanting another kiss but unable to form the words to ask for one. Guessing what you want—he wants it too—he leans up and pulls you into another kiss. Your lips collide right on the edge of your orgasm, his tongue dancing with yours as the euphoria hits and you clench around his fingers. 

“Good girl” he praises, “Are you always this gorgeous when you cum or is this just for me?”

His admiration only heightens the intensity of your orgasm. That coupled with the fact that he hasn’t let up on you has you ready to fall apart right here and now. After a couple seconds you figured he’d slow down, give you some time to recover, but no, he just keeps going.

“One more for me” he whispers, bringing his thumb up to rub your clit. 

“Woo, I can’t. Too much” you whine, grabbing onto his shirt hard enough to tear it.

He doesn’t care if you do. He meant it when he said you’re gorgeous when you cum. Your faces are perfection and your body’s glowing. When you look like this you could tear up everything he owns and he’d let you get away with it. 

“You can do it, baby. Just look at you. You’re already so close again, aren’t you?” he coos, kissing you on the cheek.

A split second. That’s all you get to come down, if you can call it that, before the pressure’s building again and you’re coming so hard it has your ears ringing. This time he shows you mercy, gradually slowing his motions, showering you in the sweetest kisses while you come down. Climbing off of you, he stands at the foot of the bed, licking his drenched fingers.

“I was right. You are delicious.” 

You roll your eyes, trying hard not to give away how sickeningly hot you find him. “Are you always like this?”

There it is again. That mischievous grin that he’s been flashing you all night. The one you can blame for getting you into this situation to begin with. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a tattooed chest you just can’t wait to dig your nails into.

“Like what?” he asks, undoing his belt. 

“Like a menace” is what you want to say but you can’t. Wooyoung’s pants are at his ankles now and he has the nerve to stand there like he doesn’t know how glorious his cock is. You don’t need a fully lit room to see how flawless, how beautifully veined, how totally made for you it is. 

“Like what, cutie?” he repeats, grabbing your ankles and dragging you to the edge of the bed. Tucking his hands behind your knees, he pushes your legs back, spreading them open to push the head of his cock up against your twitching pussy. 

You moan at the satisfying warmth of his arousal coating your slit, hips pressing down to stretch yourself with the tip.

“I don’t even know anymore. I’m just so…so…”

“So pretty…” he grunts, driving his length into you so deep that you feel it in your chest. Every word he says is accompanied by a thrust that rocks you to your core, little dots of color decorating your vision. “So beautiful. So fucking sexy when you take my cock.”

Your pussy’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. It’s enough to make his head spin and his knees weak. His cock’s never indulged in something this decadent. It’s so good—maybe too good. When you first walked through the door tonight Wooyoung knew it would be. Something about you said you were sitting on a pussy like gold and he wasn’t wrong. Not even a little bit.

You can’t even pretend that you don’t feel the same way. You’re bouncing back against his cock, clamping down on him like you’ll die if he pulls out. Every stroke of his cock floods your senses with pleasure, worsening the moisture leaking from your needy hole onto the expensive sheets. It’s so overstimulating. The length. The thickness. How he throbs in response to every flutter of your walls, filling you up exactly how you need to be filled.

Shifting angles, he mercilessly drills into your sweet spot, making you lose control of your already weakened limbs. You can’t raise your hips. You can’t bounce back on him. You can’t do anything at all besides lay there and take every inch of cock that he feeds you. It’s only a matter of time before your breath’s hitching again, that airy feeling overtaking your body. 

“Look at me” he commands when your head falls back, glossy eyes rolling to the back of your head. Letting one of your legs drop, he slaps a hand down on the softness of your belly and grips it hard enough to sting. 

“Mmph, Woo…” you moan, teary eyes finding his gaze as your nails rake across the sheets. There’s a darkness in his expression that intimidates you as much as it turns you on.

A smile tugs at his lips at the sound of your broken voice moaning his name. “You look at me when you cum or I’ll stop. You don’t want me to stop, do you, baby?” 

You shake your head, pouting cutely. You make him weaker than you can imagine but that’s not enough for him. He knows you can do better than that. 

Slowing down to an agonizingly slow pace, he drags his fingers down your belly to play with your clit. “I don’t believe you. I think you want me to stop.”

“No, don’t stop” you whine, rocking up and down his length, “I won’t look away. I promise. Fuck me, Youngie, please.”

Wooyoung folds for you in an instant, fucking into you hard enough that the headboard’s rocking. You reach out for his hand and he gives it to you, fingers interlacing with yours as your high takes you under.

This is the third time he’s seen you cum—the third time he’s watched you moan and arch and cry out for him—and each time’s more perfect than the last. Good thing this isn’t the last. In fact, it’s far from it. You’re his for the night and by the time he’s done with you he’ll have every face you make, every desperate little moan, committed to memory. 

[heegyukeluv]

complementary - the physics of your body [part 2] (sjy)

pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader

synopsis: Jake loved physics as much as he loved you.

my's note: part 2 is here earlier than expected because i'm anxious 😀

warnings: trauma from parents, fluff, angst, drama/arguments, more physics stuff lol, pet names (babe, doll, good girl…), reader blushing/turning red!, reader have a bit of an explosive demeanor, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f.), squirting, jk cum inside, overstimulation (f.), bathtub sex. lmk if i missed something!

wc: 13k

NOT PROOFREAD.

part 1

Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.

Was it worth it?

Jake was in your mind throughout the entire night.

When you woke up the next morning, your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and your body craved a rest you knew you couldn’t give it – not anytime soon, at least. Both physically and mentally, you were utterly drained.

You had spent part of the night wide awake, crying and torn between two nearly impossible choices: breaking things off with Jake or fighting to keep him. It was a strange, bitter feeling that sat heavily in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t dissolve with the tears or the long hours – it only lingered, raw and unresolved.

Jay ignored you on Saturday. And again on Sunday. You ignored Jake on Saturday. And again on Sunday.

Jake  assumed your sudden distance was due to your determined spirit, convinced you were throwing yourself into studying for your final exams. He didn’t want to disturb you and instead left sweet, encouraging messages to cheer you on without adding to your stress. But something in the way you responded – or rather, in the way you didn’t – planted a seed of doubt in his mind.

He called you and you dismissed.

The lump in your throat only heavening within each missed call and message left on read, realizing you could be hurting Jake as much as you were hurt.

You just didn’t know what to do, what to expect or where to run, because everything seemed wrong or difficult; Jay wasn’t there for you, and you couldn't reach Jake because he was the reason Jay wasn’t there for you.

Messy, confused, chaotic.

As the night settled quietly in your apartment, you opted not to leave your room. Your face swollen with heavy tears that spilled just like a waterfall. 

But then a sudden outburst of words being spoken loudly in your living room got your ears perked, your heart speeding it beats, your stomach knotting in despair as you made your way towards the noise.

“Where is she?”

“You’ll not see her.”

After feeling something was off, his instincts screamed for him to take action, so Jake immediately sped his car all the way to your apartment. He had his mind racing, spinning even, a dreadful feeling creeping inside his chest while each possible scenario played out in his head. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he found when he finally landed his eyes on you.

Your figure appeared in the doorway the very moment Jake asked about you, almost as if his words had summoned you, drawing you in like an unshakable spell. Under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, poetic even. But not now. Not like this.

“Y/N! Oh, my God," Jake exclaimed, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of relief and alarm. He expertly sidestepped Jay’s attempt to block him, his focus zeroed in on you as though nothing else mattered.

You flinched as he closed the space between you, your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly as you let him pull you into his arms. His hold was firm but not overbearing, like he was trying to shield you from a world you desperately wanted to escape.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with urgency, concern dripping from every word. Then, without waiting for an answer, his gaze darted to Jay, his tone sharpening into something far more dangerous. “What the fuck happened?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and crackling with tension. The room felt suffocating, the silence a cruel prelude to whatever would come next.

Your body gave up. Jake's scent enveloped you like a mist, soothing and soft, allowing you to be your most raw version – the one in desperate need of refuge. The painful sobs tore through you, your body shaking against Jake’s chest as he tightened his hold protectively, as though he could physically keep your pain away.

“You two happened.”

Jake stiffened as Jay’s words cut through the atmosphere, your entire body shuddering, a pang in your chest leaving you breathless for a second. Jake’s head snapped towards his best friend, panic underlying his voice as he feared the worst.

“What?” 

Jay let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. “She’s my sister, Jake,” he could have stopped just at that, it would be enough to make Jake's terror increase significantly. But he didn’t, he made sure that his every word was loud and clear. “My little sister! Did you even think for one second before–” He stopped, gulping while a hand ran through his blonde strands, eyes never wavering. “Before hooking up with her? I know about your fucking casual relationships, Jake.” 

Jake’s grip on you loosened just enough for him to take a step back, but his touch remained close, grounding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, your voice raw and trembling.

“It’s not just a casual–”

“Please, stop,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with fresh tears, fluttering close, and not really aiming for anyone in particular. “I can’t handle this right now.”

Jay’s expression faltered for a moment, realizing he might have gone too far. On the other hand, Jake looked at you, confused. 

“Please, go.” You sniffed, unwillingly pushing Jake away from you. He stumbled on his feet a little, offering you the most lost, baffled puppy eyes. You wished you had kept your eyes closed, the pain in your chest growing heavier each passing moment. “I– I appreciate you for coming, but… But just go, please.”

Guilt. You felt the guilt slowly and painfully eating away at you. Guilt for hurting the one person who cared most about you. Guilt for letting things unfold the way they did. Guilt for liking – loving – Jake.

You were torn between confronting Jay, your only family that remained by your side to fight for Jake, and letting Jake go, as a way to go back to how it was before.

There was no possible choice, everything felt like a fresh, open wound and the argument only put pressure on it.

“Alright.” Jake whispered, his eyes lowering until they rested on the floor. “I’m going, because you’re asking me to,” he nodded to himself, quickly taking a glance at Jay over his shoulder before approaching you; the phantom of his touch lingering on your fingers as he let go of your hand. “But I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now that I finally have you.”

Jay had not spoken a word to you in a whole week.

He avoided the slightest interaction with you, going out of his way to ensure that your paths rarely crossed. Yet, every day, he still managed to prepare your full meals, leaving them meticulously arranged on the counter, as if to fulfill a silent duty. It was a strange contrast – his actions speaking of care, while his absence screamed louder than words ever could.

Jay would leave the house earlier than normal and return just in time to prevent having you under his line of sight, a perfectly calculated timing you wished to end soon.

The unspoken tension lingered in every corner of the house, a suffocating reminder of the fracture between you both.

He didn't strict your routine nor made you change your lifestyle, but it weighed just as hard. It somehow felt way worse than when your parents treated you back then, yelling harsh words alongside punishments to put you back on the line or regain control over your life.

Receiving the heaviness of your brother’s silence cut deeper than anything else, mainly because he was your only true family.

On the other hand, Jake was dealing with a double loss. It hurt to feel like losing his best friend, to watch his messages being ignored and having his calls go to voicemail, to be prohibited to step into his house under any circumstances.

But the idea of losing you definitely started to hurt way more.

In the middle of the week, you called him. Your voice was weak, almost fragile, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.

“I aced my physics exam,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you… for everything.”

“No way!” Jake exclaimed, his voice lighting up with a rush of pride and excitement as he hid himself in the company’s bathroom. A big smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the one he always wore when he was truly happy for you. You couldn’t see it, though. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you would beat that exam's ass.”

That small interaction somehow felt like a bullet had lodged in his chest and he couldn’t run to the hospital to resolve it. It was almost robotic, far from utterly genuine, because there was a thick smoke of tension that suffocated his senses, that reminded him you were slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. God, he was your boyfriend! Not a random.

You giggled at his choice of words, a sweet, genuine sound that had not been present in days. The sound of your happiness made his heart shrink, as if it was both breaking and expanding at the same time. He wanted to hear more of it, wanted to make it last forever. The warmth in his chest turned into a wave of determination.

“Thanks to you, Jake,” you whispered, the words soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken.

And without missing a beat, Jake was already planning his next move. “That’s it. I’m coming to pick you up.”

The certainty in his voice was unwavering. You tried to argue, to refuse, to come up with something to stop him, but he wasn’t having it.

“Your work–”

“I can leave early.”

“But it’s far–”

“I don’t care.”

He was already thinking of you and you only – of the way you deserved to be celebrated, of how he just wanted to hold you close, to kiss you. He missed you so fucking much it hurt, it painfully hurt.

“I’m picking you up,” he repeated, this time softer but no less sure.

“But–”

“Don’t even try to argue.”

You could hear him smiling through the phone, and it made your heart ache. Why did this feel so wrong, and yet so right at the same time?

“Wait for me, my angel. I’m on my way,” he finished, his words like a promise.

You felt your heart race, even if a part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn’t need to go. But at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to stop him, so you waited. You waited for the man of your life.

Ever since, Jake began picking you up from your classes every single day. He would have his lunch with you and video call you during the night, singing a sweet lullaby until you fell asleep. He bought you a cake and kissed you deeply to celebrate your achievement, once again voicing out how proud he was.

You needed support, you needed someone that had your back, and Jake was your boyfriend, the one who should be giving you the comfort you deserved.

It was unbearable to watch you withering quietly and not having much to do other than offer some hugs and kisses, other than have his hands on yours, other than his caresses on your hair. 

However, as soon as you started to lit up again with your jokes and smiles, Jake realized it was worth it. His efforts were worth it, and he would keep doing a million things, a million times over, if it meant seeing you happy.

But there were days when you slipped back into the overwhelming sadness, due the silent reminder from Jay that his treatment of you had not changed – and maybe never would.

You couldn’t help but believe he felt betrayed, and you didn’t have the strength or courage to change his perception.

Deep down, you knew yourself well enough to understand that any confrontation would be ugly – because, beyond sadness, you also carried the weight of a quiet, lingering anger.

“He just needs time,” Jake said, offering you the same reassurance every damn day.

Two weeks have passed since Jay discovered your relationship with his best friend, but it felt like ages, painful ages, days that you had to drag yourself through it, finding perseverance in the depths of your soul to keep going, keep pushing through it.

And you don’t think you would be able to do it if it wasn't for Jake.

He was now hugging you, one hand kindly caressing your back, the other firmly holding yours. You had curled up against him in the car, your body trembling as you sobbed into his chest, trying to calm yourself by hearing his gentle breathing.

The sound of your sobs broke his heart. He knew you didn’t want to cry, but he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it stop. All he could do was hold you, let you pour out your emotions, and be there for you.

“I don't even know why I'm crying right now,” you said with a broken voice, burying your face deeper on the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jake whispered softly, his voice low, the kind of soothing tone he knew you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to know. Just let go, my love.” And so you did. The pain, the confusion, the despair, the anger, everything weighing on you felt too much to bear, flowing away through your wrenching tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jake,” you mumbled between sobs, your voice shaky, “I never thought he’d be like this… It’s been so long. I never thought I’d lose him.” Jake’s grip on you tightened. He understood the intensity of your pain; he could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, in your words. He never felt this way before, like lingering on a thin string of losing his mind, feeling so, so useless. Jake wished he could erase all your pain and sorrow, or at least transfer it to him. 

On that very day, Jake made a quiet promise of never, ever, breaking your heart. 

“You won’t lose him,” he said gently, nuzzling his chin on the top of your head, the shampoo scent calming his nerves a little. He hoped to give you the same comfort. “You just need to give him time. He’ll come around, I know it.”

You let out a deep, fragile sigh, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to stop the tears streaming freely from your eyes, sobs echoing through the car softly as you stained Jake’s shirt. He seemed not to care, arms around you as though he could shield you from the gloom that slowly and painfully swallowed you, as though he could maintain you with him, forever. 

Jake held you as close as possible, as reassuring as possible, as grounding as possible; a comforting, sweet, gentle cocoon anchoring you, as his hands drew subtle circles on your back.

With a mild push, you pulled away from Jake embrace just enough to murmur, voice raw, shaking. 

“Sorry, I dampened your shirt.”

“I love you.”

Jake said, nearly at the same time.

On that very day, Jake made a loud promise of loving you unconditionally forever. 

The words tumbled out of his mouth, soft yet firm, as though they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. His voice carried a certainty that cut through the fog of your sorrow, the three words echoing louder than your sobs ever could.

You peered up with your glossy eyes, shooting Jake a flabbergasted glance that replaced your broken expression. His chest tightened, his heart nearly shattering at the sight of you, so brittle, so vulnerable, so utterly… destroyed.

Jake wanted to do more than just hold you. He wanted to wrap you in the warmest, coziest blanket and protect you from the world and all the pain it had inflicted. He wanted to whisper reassurances until his voice gave out, to erase every tear from your cheeks with gentle kisses, to love you so deeply that you would never feel this hollow again.

He wanted to shower you with love.

The same love he was sure he nurtured for you. The same love that had been haunting his entire being to voice out, suffocating, desperate to be born into the world you both shared. The same love he discovered he loved to feel. 

Jake loved to love you, because you made it easy to.

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing slightly.

“I love you. I don't know what to do in this situation, but I know I love you. And I think you should know too.”

You hesitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while no words came out, because you had nothing that equaled the sudden sweet burning sensation that spread inside your chest as you heard those pretty words. 

Love.

You didn’t remember loving someone as much as you loved Jake.

Over the past few days, Jake had made it increasingly difficult for your love to remain a mere whisper in the depths of your mind. He had proven himself deserving of your affection, your care, your attention – because he gave just as much, if not more, in return. He had broken through the protective barriers of your heart, the ones that kept strangers away; except Jake wasn’t a stranger anymore. Perhaps, deep down, he never was.

Beyond the chaos within you, the silent, yet deafening conflict of your situation with Jay, Jake had stirred a yearning inside you – a desperate urge to scream to the world that he was the love of your life.

It was an uncontrollable desire to say it out loud, to tell him you loved him the way a painter loves their muse, the way a musician treasures their draft, the way a photographer cherishes their landscapes.

It was a love that was raw, sincere, genuine – achingly so. And it was a love you were happy to know it was mutual.

Jake was the most gorgeous star, brightening your profoundly clouded sky. 

“Jake–” You finally managed to speak, not exactly aiming for anything other than just… Say something. But Jake interrupted you with a kiss. 

“You don't have to say it back.” He murmured, lips grazing on yours as he cupped your cheeks, gentle eyes tracing the lines of your mildly swollen face. You still looked stunning. He couldn’t help but sigh, a mix of adoration and longing in his gaze. “I know I caught you off guard. I'm not asking you to love me back right away.” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness – love, devotion, and the kind of affection that made your heart ache. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to keep it there. "Just know that I, Jaeyun, love you."

You bit your lower lip, but it didn’t do much to contain your wide grin. The tears, once drenched in sorrow, now filled with uncontrollable happiness, exploding in your chest just like fireworks. With a fear of missing the time, you shook your head still in disbelief, leaning in closer as you whispered.

“I love you too, Jake.”

And just like that, Jake had his lips working on your mouth deliberately, distant from what you normally did together. It seemed he wanted to take his time, heartfeltly exploring and appreciating the attachment of your lips together, as though he was memorizing the taste of you. And it was definitely different.

It tasted like love.

Your tongues swirled in a beautiful languid dance, a rhythm only you two could follow, the kind of connection that felt natural and right, like two halves of a whole, complementary.

Jake’s hands slid down to your nape and waist, pulling you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap where you could feel his warmth radiating into you.

There was no rush, no urgency. There was only raw, honest love between you two – pure and untainted. No distractions. No lust. Just the quiet, steady beat of two hearts that had found each other in a world full of noise.

Jake loved you. You loved Jake. And right at that moment, that was all that mattered.

The car engine sound soothed the silence with a steady hum. The radio played some random song you didn’t bother to pay attention to, not when your head was wandering amidst the chaos happening there. 

Your life was a complete mess and your anxiety bubbling up, not knowing exactly what to expect from that weekend trip.

Yeah, trip.

Just two days ago, Sunghoon showed up at your doorstep holding bags of your favorite food and wearing a pitiful face. You didn’t understand the sudden hug, much less the following waterfall of “I’m sorry’s” he mumbled with a broken voice against your hair while pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you and Jake.”

You remember his words vividly, your confused state, your hands now knowing what to do or your brain not fully processing what he just said, because no one actually knew about you and Jake. But your memory made sure not to erase the following addon.

“I unintentionally snitched on you and him.”

Sunghoon stayed the whole night on the verge of crying – and you never saw that man with anything near to glossy eyes, so it seemed to be a real business for him – explaining what happened that night and how Jay found out about your hidden romance with his best friend.

His drunk ass – as he said – went back home way too earlier than both of you expected, and he could have turned a blind eye – ear, in that case – and said nothing if he knew the woman screaming Jake’s name in his bedroom was actually you, and not a random chick – his words.

So he absently texted Jay about it, thinking he was too high on his alcohol trip for hearing your voice screaming Jake’s name, teasing as he said “That would be crazy, right? That girl is really having a good time,” just to get under your brother’s skin as he always did.

However, for his misfortune – and yours –, it was you.

And Sunghoon even showed you the texts, where Jay replied with a brief, simple: “Well. Y/N went to Jake’s to study. Hah.” before turning off his phone and not receiving the next messages Sunghoon sent, trying to ease the situation.

At first you couldn’t help the bitter feeling on the back of your throat as you heard his side of the story, aware of his guilty part on it, nonetheless, to finally have a clarification of what led your relationship with Jay down to shambles was actually relieving, especially when Sunghoon said he had a plan to suggest Jay to go with them in a trip as a way to clear his mind, and then you and Jake would go as well without him knowing, and with everyone together – Heeseung too, since he was part of the friend group – it would be easier to face the problems and wrap it up with a happy ending or whatever.

Sunghoon reassured you that both he and Heeseung were on your side of the story; Jake was a good guy and they trusted him to make you happy. But Sunghoon also understood Jay’s position, since he had sisters, so he could try to help with that part as well.

Everything seemed perfect.

But it didn’t ease your comfort as you drove with Jake towards the destination, not even with his free hand holding yours and kissing the back of it gently every once and while. 

“Are you hungry, my love?”

Your sorrow facade slipped just a little by hearing Jake’s tender words and the cute pet name, still not used to it. 

“A little, yeah. But… I don’t think I can eat right now.”

Though you didn’t see, Jake nodded, knowing better than to try to pursue you out of your stubbornness. Now practically spending entire days with you, he mastered the art of knowing when to push you out of your shell and when not to. That moment you needed silence, comprehension and someone to be there for you just to make sure you were doing fine. 

You couldn’t be more glad for having a man like Jake in your life. 

And quietly, you both wished for that trip to change at least a bit of whatever was going on in Jay’s mind.

So when you both arrived – twenty minutes after the others – and Jake parked his car, you quickly spotted Jay’s blond hair amidst people in the hotel’s lobby. He wore a relaxed face, sitting on one of the couches and happily talking with his friends while they waited for you two.

The makeshift excuse Sunghoon and Heeseung told was that they were all waiting for other two friends they invited from college as well, even naming them as a way to ground the lie. 

Jay didn’t mind waiting for the said people, not at all. But he also didn’t hide his surprised and slightly disgusted face when he saw the actual two friends.

“I’m with you,” Jake muttered close to your ear, holding your hand tightly. “Always.”

You just nodded, feeling the weight on each step you took until you approached them, three pairs of eyes hovering over your presence. 

While Heeseung and Sunghoon happily greeted you both with big, genuine smiles, even hugging you briefly and muttering a quiet “It’s gonna be ok,” Jay, on the other hand, held an unreadable expression. 

“Hey,” you said back, voice coming in a small layered apprehension that didn’t go unnoticed by none of them.

Jay was fighting his inner demons not to cringe after watching you and Jake walking together, side by side like a normal couple, but it was hard when he knew how his friend regularly acted with girls he hooked-up with, how he loved to have a one night type of thing, never really committing. 

You deserved more than just a fleeting pleasant moment. 

They spent a life together as something similar to brothers long enough for Jay to be aware of the consequences of that relationship, the thoughts of you being hurt triggering the worst side of his protectiveness. And to think he would lose his best, closest friend because of that stupidity increased his emotions negatively – he felt betrayed, somehow picturing you both as selfishes who didn’t care about his side in the story.

Jay simply nodded at you both without saying a word, eyes flickering quickly towards your and Jake’s intertwined fingers, taking notice of it. You followed the motion and gulped, unconsciously squeezing your boyfriend’s hand. Jay then drifted his gaze to his friends, a dry laugh escaping his lips.

“Looks like lying to me has become everyone’s favorite pastime lately, hasn’t it?” 

“Come on, bro,” Heeseung shot back swiftly, not tolerating the way he changed behavior after you and Jake joined them. “You’re the one being an ass.”

“Am I?” Jay scoffed and pointed to himself, eyebrows raised skeptically. “I’m not the one fucking my best friend’s sister.”

The tension lingered in the air thickly, the silence immediate and edging the unbearable. You tried to ignore the people around you starting to take notice of the unfolding conversation between your brother and your friends. After all, the tension seemed to be rising and they were growing curious with the subject – your relationship.

Sunghoon was the first to notice the situation and your discomfort, especially as you quietly – and unconsciously – scooched to slightly hide behind Jake as a way to shield yourself from whatever could be thrown at you. At the same time, a spark of anger stirred in the depths of your soul, the same one you struggled to shove back down in order to protect your loved one’s from your possible explosion.

“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Sunghoon muttered and headed to finally make the check-in, the rest of you following him, each carrying their respectives luggages – Jake and you sharing just one that he insisted on holding, but you barely had time to proper acknowledged how hot he looked as he did so. 

The path to the rooms was silent, the tension thickening as all of you stepped into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with one another. Jake noticed your mad grimace – pursed lips, mildly furrowed brows – and positioned himself in front of you, facing you in order to shield any lingering stares Jay might dare to throw your way and to distract you with his puppy eyes that showered you with genuine affection. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, grounding you a little, even stealing you a small smile.

After going through a lot during your life with your parents, you had developed an explosive, even destructive, behavior that you struggled to restrain sometimes. It had become second nature to quietly bottle up every single detail of a stressful situation, letting it all pile up until the dam finally burst, and you ended up hurting the people you cared for.

You were terrified of losing it with Jay and consequently splattering on Jake and destabilizing the amazing, reliable relationship you just got in. That fear was precisely why you had been trying to act more reserved, more withdrawn. But Jay wasn’t making it easy for you – not even a little.

Not when he rolled his eyes in the childish way possible as he realized you and Jake were exchanging affection. Not when he was acting like an angry teenager that would prefer to ignore the problem instead of facing it. 

And that was why after leaving the elevator and before you could stop yourself, you let go of Jake’s hand, seizing the moment now that you were somewhere more private. It was still just the hotel corridor, but at least it wasn’t out in public. You turned to Jay and blurted it out.

“Why the fuck are you so mad for?” 

It was clear that Jay was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t care less. The tension in the air was thick as everyone froze in their tracks. Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do next. Jay’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker as his eyes narrowed at you.

“Y/N, babe, wait–” Jake’s voice was soft, trying to calm you down, but the storm inside you was already raging. He moved to step closer, his hand hovering over your arm, but you pulled away, brushing him off.

“No,” you cut him off as sweetly as possible, raising a hand to stop him. You turned back to face your brother, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “So far, you’ve said whatever came to your mind, now it’s my turn.” 

Your voice dropped to a dangerous low, thick with underlying fury, no one daring to say a word.

“I really don’t get why you’re so mad about me being happy. You always talked about how much you wanted me to find the happiness I deserve, but now that I have it, you act like a damn child!”

Jay’s features sharpened as he clenched his jaw, eyes piercing through you. However, he kept his tone calm, he didn’t raise his voice, never. Not at you.

“Jake is not the happiness you deserve.”

“Woah, hold on…” Jake tilted his head, visibly stunned by Jay’s attack. He looked between you and Jay, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation. His brows furrowed in confusion, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Why are you saying this?”

You tried to ignore Jake for a while, really tried. But it was extremely difficult as you took notice of his hurted tone, which triggered even harder your ongoing feelings.

“How the hell do you know that? How can you even say that if you’re not the one in a relationship with him?” Your voice was louder now, sharp, and you felt the heat rise in your chest. Your eyes burned, threatening to spill over with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Jay hesitated for a second, his eyes shifting as if measuring his words carefully, but the frustration in his eyes was evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

“I know Jake. I’ve known him long enough to know he could just… leave you.” The words were like a knife, and you flinched.

“I would never–” Jake immediately protested, stepping forward once again, but Jay ignored him, continuing.

“And I don’t want to see my sister get her heart broken by my best friend,” Jay’s voice cracked slightly at the last part, as if he himself didn’t want to believe the possibility, but the fear still lingered in his words.

“Jay–” You started just for him to cut you off, the urgency in his voice building.

“Did you ever even think about my feelings in all of this before it happened?” His eyes were wide now, almost pleading. “No, you didn’t. And now you’re dragging me into something I never asked for.”

“No–” you shot back, voice rising, but before you could say more, Jay’s words came thickly again.

“Did you ever stop to think about what I’d have to deal with the outcome of this shit? To lose my best friend and see my sister broken because of some stupid choice.”

His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tense. The more he spoke, the more his control slipped, and you could see the anger building in him, mixed with a deep sense of hurt.

You took a deep breath, like a gasp, holding it in for a moment, before speaking slowly, your voice softening just a little. You were finally walking beside Jay’s line of thought. So that was the reason?

“And why would that be the only possible outcome? Why do you doubt Jake so much?” You paused, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “He’s sweet. Always so, so sweet and gentle. He cares for me. He loves me, and I love him too.”

As you spoke about Jake, the walls around you lowered just enough to let the raw honesty out. You felt his presence close at your back, his hands resting on your waist lovingly, managing to somewhat anchor you – your heart fluttered, your nerves soothing ever so slightly.

For a split second, you saw Jay’s expression falter. He wasn’t ready for your vulnerability nor your genuine feelings to come out. You could see it in his eyes – the battle between his protectiveness and the fleeting need to understand your and your point of view.

“I did think about you when I accepted Jake’s dating proposal,” you continued, voice growing quieter, but firm. “And I was scared you’d react exactly like this.”

Jay’s mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but the words died on his tongue. For the first time, you saw him hesitate, truly unsure of what to say next. 

His eyes flickered towards Jake, who held an expectant, yet determined expression. He knew Jake wasn’t going to give up so easily, and it was impossible not to see you actually liked, loved each other. WJake positioned himself behind you, close, protective, and somehow loosed Jay’s demeanor, the weight on his shoulders dropping, maybe for realizing his best friend could give you the protection and the love you deserved – the one he was in charge of until now. 

Jay struggled to gulp down his stubbornness; it was his most characteristic feature. However, on the other side of the argument was you, the little sister – now a woman – he cared for and would move mountains for if necessary. 

Would Jake be able to do the same?

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, quiet, eyes lowering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment. 

You couldn’t hold back your surprised face, not when you expected the conversation to unfold in many possibilities where you would gladly, relentlessly counter each and every argument until you overtired him with your own stubbornness. 

“I– I was stupid. I only thought about myself, and… I mean, you seemed so happy before I found out about you two. I guess that was… because of you, Jake.”

The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stepped closer to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. He didn’t hesitate to return it, pulling you firmly against his chest.

“I really care about you, kiddo,” he murmured softly into your hair, his voice tinged with both regret and affection.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, sniffing as you tried to compose yourself. “I know,” you replied, pulling back slightly to look at him. “And I’m glad you do. But now…”

Turning your head, you glanced at Jake over your shoulder – a genuine smile curved his plump lips, radiating relief and happiness. His eyes shone with pure joy, watching the two people he cherished most finally reconcile. For the first time in a while, he looked truly content and not laced with condren.

“I have him caring about me too.”

Jake took the moment to approach you both, intertwining his fingers with yours as you stepped away from your brother. He brought your hand to kiss the back of it sweetly before voicing out. 

“I’ll make her really happy.”

“You better do,” Jay nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “Just don't… screw this over, Jake. I'm serious,” the subtle change in his tone got you rolling your eyes playfully. 

“I won't,” Jake promptly shot back.

“If you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down to hell to kill you,” Jay added within a warning voice and Sunghoon, who had been silently observing the exchange, burst out laughing.

“I second that, by the way,” Heeseung chimed in with a smirk and shrugged. 

“No need to worry. If I ever break her heart, I'll kill mys–”

“Shut up.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, your smile not faltering a bit as the rush of euphoria started to run in your veins.

Jay groaned, shooting the two of you a disgusted look before rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the stress. It was clear he was struggling to get along with the bitter realization: his little sister, the one he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect, was now sharing intimate affection with his best friend – the very same best friend he knew far too much about, including his past escapades with commitment and… other things.

“And for the love of God,” Jay added with an exasperated sigh. “Do not… Do anything under my roof.”

“Yes, sir,” Jake quipped with a grin, earning another groan from Jay.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter, contentment filling your heart in the most endearing way. Things have been settled in the best way possible.

"Now that we have a room to ourselves…" Jake murmured with a mischievous smirk, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you’ve aced your physics exam…" His breath was warm against your skin, teasing the back of your ear. “And everything is set fine again…”

"And my brother is not overreacting just because I’m sucking your dick…" You couldn’t help but say it out loud within a smirk, relieved.

Jake’s eyes widened in shock, then he gasped, his hands tightening around you to pull you even closer. He laughed.

"That’s... one way of saying it, yeah." He squinted playfully, a smirk still tugging at his lips, the same lips that now pressed soft kisses on your sensitive skin, making you squirm a bit within an unfading smile dancing on your lips. You were really happy. "I’ll take it."

The following atmosphere was full of warmth and ease and for a moment you just stayed there, in the quiet calm of Jake’s arms, enjoying the simple reality of being together, just a quiet love that felt endless.

It took just a second for you to feel something poking you from behind. You hummed.

“Now I understand why you were so excited to get to our room, baby,” you purred, leaning back onto his chest and swinging your hips a little, just to friction Jake’s growing boner. His answer was immediate; a soft moan traveling its way to your ear.

“What?” He feigned innocence, pulling you closer and helping you to move your ass straight on his hardening, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Quit the act, pretty boy,” you scoffed playfully as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You're not fooling anyone.”

You met Jake with hooded eyes that locked with your lips for a while before going back up to glaze your orbs, his tempting tongue wetting those beautiful lips you loved to kiss and feel on your skin before he turned you to fully face him, his hands on your hips firm, steady as he pushed you slightly behind until you felt the back of your knees meeting the soft end of the bed. 

In any moment you broke eye contact, nor words were being said while the atmosphere shifted under the soothing realization you could be completely free – with your noises, with your needs, with your relationship. 

You smiled, pulling Jake by his shirt so he could fall on the mattress with you; his lips searched for yours immediately, crashing together into a delightful dance of tongues and mouths, starving each other with a longing of years. You would never get enough of your boyfriend and it felt so good to know the feeling was mutual.

His hands wandered to where you craved his touch most; Jake had become an expert at reading your body, knowing exactly what made you shiver with delight, what brought you to that edge of the pleasant bliss you loved navigating together. But there was a specific subject unspokenly lingering in the air that made him try to move back and bring it to words. 

“You promised me something,” Jake mumbled against your mouth, but you didn’t give much care as you moved further up on the bed, your hands clutching on his neck to pull him with you, lips never parting. “Babe, your pussy–”

You smirked and teasingly shut him up with another torrid kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, eliciting a groan that made your cunt pulse and clench around nothing. The grip on your hips tightened and Jake finally parted the kiss, panting a little, his eyes gleaming with lust.

“Babe, you promised,” Jake protested with a whining voice and you couldn’t hold back your laughter, your eyes loaded with love, affection and burning desire drinking from his already messy features.

Jake’s hair was disheveled, a courtesy of your hands that would always tangle it, tugging and playing not only due to its silkiness, but mostly because Jake would moan beautifully into your mouth whenever you pulled a bit stronger, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. 

He had a sweet voice, and his noises sounded even sweeter; as crazy as it sounds, sometimes you wished to sip Jake until he was empty.  

“You’re so cute when you’re asking for my pussy, baby. How do you manage to do that?”

Jake leaned into the touch of your hand cupping his face gently, caressing his reddened and parted lips. His cheeks had a faint flush, half-opened eyes showering you with expectation, dilated pupils pleading, flickering slowly through your face.

“Please, I really need it,” Jake sounded urgent, his breath hitching as he pressed you on the bed with his body weight.

He was quick to dodge your attempt to kiss him again, taunting the wicked game you were building. His tongue traced the curve of your neck, and his lips followed with deliberate, tantalizing kisses – a striking contrast to his current raw desperate state. “Please…” he murmured, the plea thick with longing.

He was trying to nudge you out of your deviousness using your weakness, however, he wasn’t faking at all. Jake was genuinely desperate. “Oh? So it’s a need now? Not just a want?” You teased, your voice dripping with mischief as your eyes fluttered closed.

A sigh followed by a moan escaped you, your body instinctively arching forward as a wave of contentment rippled through your core. Yet Jake kept you firmly in place, pressing you into the mattress with precision, his grip restraining your movements just enough to leave you yearning for more.

“I need and I want, please…” He whispered against your earlobe before nibbling it; you felt his hand sneaking into your shirt nearly at the same time, his fingertips softly brushing your side, making you contract your stomach and try to squirm, but again, Jake was holding you strongly against the bed. “Mhm? Please?” He begged once more within a small, weak breath.

Being so close to your boyfriend always made you thrilled and also loosened. He presented you with the possibility of being yourself freely, a safe haven you didn’t know you needed. The trust you had with Jake was beyond imagination, it was with your entire being among every possible nuance of the wording; there was something about how he managed to always spark an interest of an ongoing desire that fueled your will to keep him near, physically and emotionally.

So when he offered you the prettiest hooded eyes, glistening with the plea he showed through every pore of his, you couldn’t really control the thrum of your heartbeat echoing louder and louder in your eardrums, nor your breath catching in your throat as you felt yourself swoon under Jake’s intense and eager gaze, the need of something he never actually had a taste burning in those pretty two brown orbs. 

Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, after all you admittedly – not out loud – longed to feel Jake’s head buried between your legs as much as him. Just with how he managed to kiss you, mouth and tongue working precisely, skilfully on yours had your toes curling, yearning to feel all of that on your cunt. 

“Don’t go quiet on me,” Jake murmured with a pout, one that vanished in seconds as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not when I wanna hear you screaming my name,” he quietly softened the weight of his body onto yours, giving you the room to move. Your legs instinctively opened. Jake noticed. “Just give me the word, baby.”

Your eyes fluttered close when you felt Jake lowering his kisses to your clavicle and so on, a moan slipping out of your mouth when he twirled his tongue on your hardened still covered nipple, sucking and motioning something you were sure he would be doing in your clit in a few. You just needed to… Allow it. 

“Give me the word and I’ll make you feel so good…” He whispered. Once more, you felt yourself pulsing, your panties with a pool of arousal at that point. “Mhm? Please? You deserve to feel good, baby.”

He glanced up at you, giving you more of what you would experience after you said yes; the eyes looking up, the mouth deliberately and masterfully doing its job of pleasuring you, the hands holding you still.

Your whole body ignited with fervent flames, bursting with desire and an anxious longing to feel everything Jake had silently promised you until that moment. Driven by the maddening need to have him, you finally spoke, with a voice you couldn’t quite properly find as you lost yourself in your imagination.

“Yes, Jake. You can eat me out.”

Jake let out a small groan of contentment, his smile wide and radiant as he positioned himself in between your parted legs and began to remove your jeans with your help. 

“That’s how I like it,” he murmured, biting his lip to hold back the surge of excitement and impatience building inside him. But the hunger to taste your pussy of you had been building for far too long to slow down now. “Good girl.”

There was no doubt Jake would make you feel good, nevertheless you found yourself unable to untense completely under the hot touches he was leaving in your skin as he undressed your bottoms; you felt awkward, especially because it was the official first time Jake was seeing you in such a position. He had fingered you and fucked you countless times, but it was the first time his face got that close to your cunt and you started to worry. To disappoint him after you had so carefully nurtured his hopes with that fleeting promise seemed unbearable.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands grabbing the sheets underneath you as you breathed heavy. Jake noticed your change of demeanor right away and soothed your skin kindly with his palms.  

“Relax, my love. Why are you so tense, mhm?” The question was followed by a tender kiss on your knee and a gentle caress on your other leg. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know, honestly,” you chuckled nervously, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes that were trying to read your anxious expression. You were being serious about your lack of knowledge of what exactly triggered your sudden reaction. “I’m afraid of disappointing you, I guess. Does that make sense?”

“No,” Jake was quick to shoot back, a sigh of admiration slipping from his plush lips for finally seeing your cunt revealed before his hungry eyes. Beautiful, he could feel his mouth watering. “You can’t disappoint me, sweet girl.”

“What if I cum too fast?” You asked without giving time to Jake to answer, and he skeptically quirked a brow at you. Did he hear it right? “What if I taste bad? What if you don’t like the feel of it? Or the look of it? What if my smell isn’t that good? What if–” 

You fell silent as you felt Jake’s warm muscle licking your folds, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your heated body, legs trying to close instinctively and your eyes growing wide as you realized he just… Went for it. And he was good.

Just after the long lick, Jake sucked your clit and groaned, as if the pleasure was his, not only yours. He didn’t part the connection, though, continuing to play with your clit and your pussy in random patterns using his tongue and lips, as if he was studying which one you enjoyed the most by the way your moans sounded. 

“J–Jak–Mhm…” A soft murmur mingled with a whimper interrupted whatever you were about to say – and you couldn’t even remember as you drifted your gaze down to catch the sight of Jake’s furrowed brows, deep in concentration and desire as he lost himself in you. 

You brushed away the hair sticking on his lightly sweaty forehead, watching how delighted he seemed to be eating you out; you heard the lewd sounds of slurping and soft smacks imitating a kiss and you deduced he was simply making out with your pussy.

As regular as it was, your fingers tangled into his brown locks, this time urging him closer, pulling him down to you as the longing for more consumed your chest. 

Jake was drunk – and loving each second. Mind blurry, only your pussy and the sweet scent and taste of it occupying the haze inside his brain as he got motivated by the pretty noises you allowed to escape your lips.

He dived into you with fervor, with love. God, he dreamed for too long to waste time with foreplays or whatever, especially when you were that wet already. He could die in between your legs and he would thank you for that. 

The way your breath hitched when he went a bit further and tested to poke your pulsing hole with the tip of his tongue got his eyes glancing up to catch your contorted expression, mouth agape, head throwing back into the pillow. He moaned when you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your pussy on his face just how he wanted to. 

“You’re so fucking good,” you managed to breathe out, your voice shaking between delicate moans.

Jake’s tongue lapped over and over your now dripping pussy, drinking from your juice as if it was his favorite. After cautious inspection, he understood what made you clench shamelessly and was now openly making out with your clit, even so often tongue fucking you within an impressive skill; he also positioned both your legs on his shoulder as way to ease his and your comfort.

The way your body squirmed under his firm grip on your thighs was a feeling Jake wished never to forget, especially how you unconsciously tried to press your legs together, as if it could shield you from the intensity of his touch, though you knew deep down it was futile. 

Jake was addicted to every aspect about you. If he allowed himself a moment of reflection, he might feel a flicker of embarrassment over just how intensely you got him wrapped around your finger.

Your smiles, paired with your playful banter, sent a whirlwind of emotions through his chest, a constant reminder of how effortlessly you matched his provocations with your own sharp wit. Your determination, laced with a stubborn edge, stirred a deep sense of pride within him, filling his heart with admiration for your strength. And your body… it was a masterpiece in his eyes. Every curve, every line felt tailor-made for his hands, his touch, his need to hold you close and never let go.

And now you had permitted him to taste the part he cherished the most in terms of sex. 

Jake didn’t care about how cringe, loser-like or shameful could sound to others, but eating girls out was everything he needed to feel fulfilled when in bed, and now, if the said girl was you, his perfect girlfriend…

“I love you so much,” you heard Jake mumble against your cunt, the slurred words vibrating against your clit brought you back from the lustful fog your mind drew into only to send you back again, a journey you would gladly revisit again whenever possible.

The knot on your lower stomach tightening had your toes curling as you tugged Jake’s hair harder, eliciting a soft moan out of his mouth that got lost in between your wet arousal.

“Mhm, F–Fuck Jake– I’m–”

“Close?” He murmured, though he didn’t expect you to answer. 

Jake was way lost into his own pleasure of satisfying you to think of anything other than your release coating his tongue, and he started to shamelessly, yet slowly rut his hip against the bed as your moans increased, your legs around his shoulder pressing tighter.

“I wan’ you to come all over my face and mouth, doll.” 

The blend of his words and how he started to shake his head to rub the tip of his nose on your clit while lapping your clenching hole got you screaming his name, the waves of shock running through your body within trembles as you had your orgasm. Whimpers and cries would be everything filling the room if it wasn't from Jake slurping noises getting constant with him swallowing every single drop of your climax, driving you through your high.

His big hands held you steady as he finished the job of cleaning you with his tongue, your sensitive bundle of nerves getting brief brushes that got you squirming. Jake then placed a sweet kiss on your clit, diverging from the intensity of the touches seconds ago before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and shaky, but utterly satisfied, with a dumb smile gracing your lips.

Your hooded eyes blinked slowly, tiredly as you panted for air, your whole body relaxed as if you were on the clouds. However, you captured the view of Jake undressing himself even with your slightly blurred vision; his chin and his nose were glistening with his spit and your cum, and when you finally noticed the hardened bulge hidden behind his underwear, you gulped, feeling your body heating up again before that pretty, lascivious sight.

Opposite to what you thought, Jake propped himself near to you, out of the bed still, with a cute smile, endearingly watching you regaining your senses. You didn’t catch the flicker of mischief the puppy eyes showed briefly, though.

“Babe, how about we take a shower, mhm?,” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. With a gentle stroke on your hair, he added. “I think we have a bathtub here, we can take a bath.”

A smirk danced on the corner of your lips as you sat with Jake’s help, your fingers tracing the shape of his covered dick. “But what about you, pretty boy?” 

You watched Jake biting his lip, a habit you loved that made both your heart flutter and your cunt pulse. You were getting worked up again. 

“We can take care of it there, can’t we?” 

His gaze darkened out of the softness he was offering you when you nodded, pulling you to stand up and removing your shirt. Jake’s eyes lingered a bit longer on your now exposed breasts and you felt shy under the intensity of it, so you just leaned forward to cut the staring with a kiss. 

The same kiss that had Jake holding you by the waist and you finding support on his shoulders. The same kiss that Jake used to quietly guide you towards the bathroom. The same kiss that left you breathless as you parted away with a content smile followed by a chuckle because Jake’s fingertips brushed your ribs in a teasing way. 

“Oh, we have to fill it up, though…” You pouted when noticing that the said bathtub was completely empty. 

Once again, you failed to realize Jake had a secret plan by the way his eyes twinkled with wicked intentions, especially because he positioned himself behind you.

“Babe…” His voice dropped an octave when he murmured against your ear, the feeling of his hot body pressing on your back together with his covered cock frictioning against your bare ass got your pussy starting to be wet again. 

“Mhm?” You answered softly, hands covering Jake’s that were now on your boobs, softly massaging 

“Do you trust me?”

The question was simple, the answer even simpler. And yet you found yourself hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty threatening to spark – a fleeting fear of what might unfold. But then, you remembered: it was Jake. Your Jake. The man who had dived headfirst into all your wildest adventures without hesitation, who would never dream of hurting you.

The man of your life.

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” he chuckled softly, a hint of mischief lighting his gaze as he pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, only to strip off the last piece of clothing separating him from you.

You turned on your heels, confused, aiming to ask what the hell was going on, but your eyes dropped to Jake’s big, stiff cock, the tip reddened, glistening with leaking precum in a way that got your knees weak.

“You’re hard,” you breathed out, pointing out the obvious and feeling your body working on automatic as you approached with your hands already moving further closer his length. “And hot. I’d suck you off–”

Jake shushed you with a quick peck, his lips being graced by a small smile. “Shh, come with me.”

He approached the bathtub, opening the water register to fill just the bottom of it before he settled on one of the ends and tapped his lap, urging you to join him.

“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, a grin growing on your lips as you made your way to your boyfriend, doing as he instructed you so. “What are we doing?”

Your curiosity was driving you wild, yet there was something thrilling in the way Jake sometimes took control of the situation, keeping details scarce and letting slowly you discover things as they got revealed.

Sharing moments with Jake was a treasured part of your life, and you longed to create more special and unique memories with the one you had vowed to love for a lifetime – through every shade and possibilities.

So when he placed you on his lap, facing forward, something similar to as if you were about to ride him, you did nothing to control the excitement fluttering in your chest. Before you said any other word, Jake’s cheeks flustered with a cute tone of crimson and you furrowed your brows, a confused-amused chuckle escaping your lips because you literally had no idea of what was going on.

“Please, ignore what I’m gonna say, because it’s a fucking turn off…” Jake said with a small voice, his whole face contorted into an embarrassed expression as he tightened the grip on your hips.

“Okay…” As unsure as you sounded, still you held your expectations high. The worst that would happen was Jake making you laugh with his goofy ideas and jokes.

“You know that we calculate the velocity of some things in physics, right? Like fluids, and stuff…” You nodded along, not really getting the line of thought, but still allowing him to finish. “I was wondering… Mhm–” He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours precisely. You were already giggling, hands caressing his nape.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to calculate the velocity of your squirt on my dick?”

Though Jake immediately reacted by breaking into a shy laughter and hiding himself cringing on the crook of your neck, you, on the other hand, had to stifle the shocking scoff that caught in your throat upon hearing his filthy, straightforward request, your expression shifting from teasing humored to stunned disbelief. And you felt your pussy clenching right after, because Jake had that fucking effect on you, no matter what. 

“I won’t lie… I was so ready to laugh,” you admitted, voice soft and edged with a dryness that had you swallowing hard, trying to hold the thrill bubbling low in your core.

Your hips rolled ever so slightly, a teasing motion that grazed against Jake’s aching hardness, drawing a guttural groan from him. Your hand held the back of his head, caressing his hair, while the other wandered over his biceps. 

“But, damn, I’m so turned on right now.”

“Thank God you’re perfect.” 

It was the last thing Jake said in between a relieved giggle before kissing your neck and skillfuly maneuvering your body with your help so his aching cock could finally meet the warm embrace of your walls. 

A shaky shared moan echoed through the hollow bathroom walls, your head falling back, your lips parted with a small delighted smile adorning it. Jake bit your neck to muffle his following groan when he finally got himself completely inside of you; he had been hard for so long, ever since he started to think about getting lost in the taste of your pussy, craving some sexual release that only your cunt embracing his length would give him.

“So fucking tight–” He whispered against the slightly bruised skin of your neck, voice cracking at the end when you rolled your hips in a silent plea.

Without a moment of hesitation, Jake lifted you effortlessly by your hips, only to pull you back down with a steady force, guiding you with a rhythmic precision. Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, providing the support you needed to move with him, as you both found your pace.

“Kiss–” you breathed, a soft whimper escaping your lips, just as Jake hit a spot that made you tremble. “Kiss me, Jakey–” 

As a natural command, Jake drifted his lips towards yours, his tongue licked your bottom one before sucking it and diving into a passionate, messy kiss, the movements never halting as you drowned into the pool of arousal and lust your boyfriend provided; you could feel Jake everywhere and it was amazing.

He pounded into your g-spot with ease, eliciting the loudest noises from the back of your throat, shamelessly. His hands roamed your ass to squeeze it while guiding your body up and down, the mild slapping sounds ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody. 

“You make me go insane,” Jake whispered, his eyes fluttering close as the euphoria of feeling you that close drifted his senses into an overwhelming experience. 

He felt a faint grin appearing on your lips before you shot back. “And– And do you like it?”

Jake chuckled lightly, a lingering smile following his answer. “I love it.”

Since you had one orgasm already, you felt your next one coming faster than expected, so when you started to involuntarily clench more, together with your whimpers of Jake’s name and curses amplified louder, Jake took a close notice to start rubbing circles on your clit with one hand, wishing you could keep on holding the position practically by yourself for a bit longer – he wanted you to do a bit more than cumming, after all.

“Close… ‘M close–” You whined, body jolting forward and your head falling back once more, the grip from your arms on Jake’s shoulders tightening as you partially hugged him. 

Jake drank in the sight of you rolling your eyes close and your hips uncontrollably grinding and bouncing and doing whatever would make you achieve your climax – so fucking beautiful. It made his dick throb in despair for the same release, but he wanted so bad to feel you squirting on him. So he gathered strength from the depths of his self-control not to cum, even after you creamed his shaft with your warm liquid. Even after your squeeze grew unbearably good.

“Fuck, babe…” 

“Jak– Jake– Sensitive,” you whispered when Jake didn’t stop drawing circles on your clit, momentarily forgetting he had a different plan as you struggled to squirm away. “Jake, mhm–” 

Jake shook his head as if telling you no, maintaining his dick buried deep into you as he focused solely on your swollen bundle of nerves. If you paid enough attention you would feel his mischievous smile creeping on the corner of his lips grazing on your cheek.

With your eyes fluttering open to try and look at your boyfriend, the overestimation teetered the edge of madness; overwhelming at it most, you whined pleas of despair for Jake to stop, though you didn’t actually want him to.

Jake groaned when your nails scratched his back, your whole body trembling, shaking to escape the painful, yet delicious feeling of Jake driving you faster towards an inexperienced field for you.

You never actually squirted, but as soon as you reminded yourself that it was Jake's desire, you wished to give it to him as much as you wanted for yourself. Pleasuring Jake would always pleasure you as well.

“It’s gonna feel so good, doll,” Jake cooed, holding you closer, keeping you steady. “Hang in there, just a little, yeah?”

“Can’t–” You shook your head, feeling a weird feeling creeping inside you. “Can’t Jakey–”

“Yes you can,” his voice was low, soft even, though breathless. Jake was trying his best to navigate you precisely to where he wanted you to arrive. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mhm– Fuck, Jake–” You screamed his name. “Yes, ’m yours. All yours.”

The excruciating pressure on your core felt like a glazing fire, scorching every inch of you as if it were igniting something deep inside, something new, strange. It was a fiery ache, relentless and consuming, making it almost impossible to think of anything but the heat that pulsed through you, demanding attention. The sensation grew more intense with every movement, every touch, every deliberate open-mouth kiss Jake deposited on your neck. You couldn’t decide if you wanted it to stop or if you wanted it to go on forever. 

“It’s burning– Jake–” You sounded urgent, not exactly knowing why.  

“Let it go, doll,” Jake murmured on your earlobe. “For me, yeah?”

And so you did, moaning, exclaiming Jake’s name like a mantra, like he was the only thing carved into your soul, the only thing crossing your mind. You felt like Jake entered you completely as a flush of fluids squirted from your pulsing, abused cunt.

At the same time, Jake had his own body trembling, his abs tensing as he came undone; not even a movement, not even a roll of hips, just the indescribable feeling of your juices flowing freely down his length and your walls clenching got him filling you to the brim with his release.

A wave of soft moans slipped from your lips, each one rising like a gentle hiss. Your mind was blank. Your body, numb. You felt everything and nothing at the same time. At some point you questioned if you had died – and if you did, it would be an amazing death.

But then Jake’s honeyed, broken voice brought you back from your trance. 

“I’m still coming,” and he so fucking was; it was a different feeling from the other times, if you forced yourself to think coherently, you would realize Jake had never come that hard. 

“I’m weird,” you mumbled, body softening against your boyfriend’s strong grip. He held you steady in his arms, supporting you with care. “Can’t feel my legs… Or my body…”

You heard Jake laughing a little in between pants, his noises sounding distant while your eyes began to slowly close, your body relaxing into that blur of tiredness that took over in seconds.

“I’ve got you, my love.” Jake kissed your cheek. “You did amazing. Thank you.”

With tender touches and gentle caresses, Jake cleaned both of you, making sure you were comfortable and not getting any type of extra stimulation as he did so. Through soft murmurs of reassuring words, he praised your work and thanked you for allowing him to pleasure you. As he always did.

Jake loved you with genuine affection. It never felt forced, nor did it ever seem like something he had to prove. It was simply there, effortless, constant, and profound. His love lived in the smallest gestures and the proudest compliments he would gush about, and you couldn’t feel more grateful for living in a relationship where the caring was mutual, because you cherished Jake just as much. 

You were finally at peace, in a comfortable relationship with Jake, knowing there would be no more lies between you and your brother. It was soothing to be able to sink into the warm embrace of your boyfriend without worrying about interruptions, or how quickly you would have to throw on clothes and present yourself as presentable as possible, hiding the remnants of your burning passion behind fake smiles and lame excuses.

Jake had a scent of home, of love. And it felt so, so good to love him without restraint, to kiss him without fear, to feel a sense of completeness as he fit perfectly in a special place in your chest.

“Y’know, I was just thinking…”

Jake’s voice filled the quietness of the room. He had put you in a comfortable set of clothes and laid on the bed with you, your body curled cozily against his chest, his soft heartbeats soothing your senses.

“We complement each other pretty well.”

“How so?”

Your ask came as silent as his. Jake caught himself thinking deeply, snuggling you closer as he did so. 

“Mhm… I lean towards physics and you’re into art,” you nodded along, casually drawing random shapes on his bare torso. 

The softness of his tone vibrated through his chest like a sweet lullaby. You sighed. 

“I feel like you’re more rational than I am… You’re always so, so determined and adorably stubborn until you get what you want… And I’m kinda lazy, not gonna lie.” 

“That’s true,” you smirked, raising your head briefly just to shoot a teasing glance. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you nestled back against him.

“We always find a way to please each other, in every sense,” he continued and you couldn’t help the warm flushing from your neck to your face, shyly shifting to hide yourself on his neck. Jake giggled, caressing your back. “And I always feel complete when I’m with you.”

Pulling back slightly, you searched those two mesmerizing eyes, brimming with tenderness and care. With love. Jake was a beautiful masterpiece, worthy of endless admiration you would willingly give, because you loved him just as much. 

“I agree,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. “We’re like pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.”

“Exactly,” Jake breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed as tranquility washed over him after you pressed a tender kiss on his lips just to get cozy again against his torso. “We’re complementary, babe.”

BONUS SCENE

"Well, well… If it isn’t the cutest couple..." Sunghoon greeted you both with a teasing tone as you approached the table.

The weekend trip was nearing its end, and that was the last meal the five of you would share at the hotel. It was a simple yet cozy dinner, the kind that felt more meaningful because of the company. A table set with exactly five seats, ready to accommodate all of you.

Jake responded to Sunghoon’s comment with a playful smack to the back of his neck before you both took your seats; Heeseung settled on your right, Sunghoon next to Jake, and Jay directly across from you.

“The cutest and the freakiest, too. Jesus Christ.” Heeseung muttered just loud enough for you and Jake to hear. Instinctively, your eyes darted up to catch the displeased scowl on your brother’s face. “Please, never put me next to their room again.”

“The choice was either you or Jay, so…” Sunghoon shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, though it didn’t stop Heeseung from glaring at him.

“And you weren’t an option?”

“Of course not. My trip, my rules. You should be grateful I even got you a solo room.”

“Oh, right, because between hearing Y/N scream Jake’s name and–”

“For God’s sake, dude,” Jake interrupted immediately, his voice sharp but laced with embarrassment.

Your cheeks burned fiercely as you sank into your chair, crawling Jake’s arm as if your life depended on it, trying desperately to avoid looking at Jay – or anyone else. But from the corner of your eye, you caught him massaging his temples with one hand, the other lifting his glass of wine to his lips as if he needed a moment away from the conversation.

“Am I wrong, though?” Heeseung arched an eyebrow and looked directly at you, who were now sipping your drink, still curled against Jake who held you by your shoulder. “I bet you were having a good time in the bathroom.”

Jake couldn’t suppress the sudden snort of laughter that escaped him when seeing you and Jay choking, each with your own drinks, together. On the other hand, Sunghoon shamelessly burst into a loud, noisy laugh, clapping his hands and throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.

“Oh, man, this is gold,” he managed to say, eyes flickering in between your mortified expression and Jay’s mad grimace.

You coughed into your napkin, one that Jake handed to you gently, holding back his own wanting to laugh at it too, your cheeks blazing hot. 

“Heeseung, I swear to God, if you–”

“Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell about how hard–”

“Ok. Shut up, dude,” Jake interrupted sharply again, though his voice carried a mix of amusement and shyness. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm, anchoring you away from their teasing.

Jay, however, wasn’t laughing. Not at all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression tense as he shot Heeseung a glare that could cut through steel.

“Some of us don’t need a visualization of whatever happened in that room. Thank you.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, which shone with amusement, matching perfectly with his playful grin.

“Come on, Jay. It’s all in good fun,” Heeseung replied, waving off the tension with a careless flick of his hand. “We all know they’re just very passionate. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, God.” You groaned, burying our face in your hands, feeling Jake giggling by the way his body trembled against yours. “I hate all of you. So much.”

The mortification flooded your senses, an urge to run away from their playful banter because you didn’t know where else to hide. However, the same subject being treated with jokes and laughter eased your fear of Jay turning back on his decision of supporting you and Jake.

“Even me?” Your boyfriend asked, kindly grabbing your chin to lean your head upwards to face him. He had a feigned pouty expression, one that elicited a giggle from you right away.

You shook your head. “No, baby, never you.”

And just at the moment your lips touched Jake’s into a sweet gesture, you heard your brother’s voice.

“Am I that ass of a brother to deserve this level of pain and torture?” Jay muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation.

You and Jake giggled in between the kiss, parting ways as you bit your lip and shot a fake annoyed glance at Jay – comfort now settling your nerves, as you noticed he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

“Maybe?” You teased, your tone playful as you tilted your head. Jay rolled his eyes, but the small smile dancing on his lips didn’t deny he was starting to accept your relationship.

“Whatever, kiddo.”

taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @taeminsboogers, @4wkjun, @wiccangirl29, @guapgoddees, @manuosorioh, @zkg2318, @m3wkledreamy, @jakeswifeyyy, @love4hee, @missychief1404, @thlrstae, @jaems-left-toe

(the ones in bold text i couldn't tag!)

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

PLAYING DANGEROUS

jude bellingham x gf!reader

warnings: tension, tension, tension... Maybe (a bit) toxic.

summary: After weeks of fighting over a campaign Jude worked on that sparked jealousy in you, your frustration grows as he dismisses your feelings. Fed up with being ignored, you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. As expected, your boyfriend sees red—his control slipping as the night unfolds, and the tension between you two reaches its boiling point. But, of course, you are having so much fun.

The car ride was thick with an uncomfortable silence. Jude gripped the wheel, his jaw set, eyes fixed ahead. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, each sigh and subtle shift a quiet reminder of the tension simmering between you two. After all the back-and-forth arguments you’d had this week, you were both tired of hashing it out—but the hurt and resentment lingered.

You looked out the window, trying to lose yourself in the nightscape rushing by. The bright lights of the city blurred, but your mind was fixed on one image: that campaign photo. The one that had sparked this entire mess. Jude and a stunning model in a luxury campaign, his arm casually slung over her waist, their smiles too bright, too intimate. When you’d seen the ad, it had stung, but what has stung more was the behind the cameras videos. They had chemistry, and she was just as extroverted as him.

It hadn’t helped that when you’d brought it up to Jude, he brushed it off, rolling his eyes and calling you “dramatic” for making a big deal out of nothing. He’d practically laughed it off, leaving you feeling unheard and dismissed. That was the worst part: not just the jealousy, but the way he’d treated it as if it was meaningless.

“Can you not just sit there like I don’t exist?” Jude’s voice broke the silence, low but tight with irritation. “We’re going to this dinner. Can we just act like adults?”

You turned to him, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying the first sharp thing that came to mind. You’d been here before, and you were too tired of the fighting to start again.

“Jude, you know why we are in this situation,” you said quietly. “I just wanted you to take me seriously and acknowledge my feelings.”

“Acknowledge?” he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “All I’ve done this whole week is listen to you accuse me of something I didn’t do. It’s a campaign. That’s it. Nothing more.” He resisted the urge to say, "End of discussion," and focused on the road ahead instead.

“But you didn’t make me feel like it was nothing, Jude. You made me feel like… like I’m stupid for even bringing it up. You think I don’t know that it’s part of your job?” Your voice quivered, and you hated that you sounded so emotional.

Jude’s face softened for a moment, but then he hardened his expression again, as if not wanting to give in. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I thought you knew me better than that, honestly.”

There it was—another subtle jab. The conversation felt like a seesaw, tipping between blame and defense, never quite reaching a point of understanding. You crossed your arms, pressing yourself against the passenger door, feeling miles away from him, though he was just a few feet to your left.

“I just wanted to feel like you cared that I was upset. That’s all. Not for you to laugh it off like it was something stupid.”

He clenched his jaw, as if forcing himself not to retort. His hands tightened on the wheel again. “Look, I get it now. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’ll do my job, you can stay mad at me, and we’ll just keep doing this every week.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, and it hurt. “This is getting ridiculous...”

You two were tired of fighting, but something in you, something sharp and bruised, couldn’t let go of the last few days’ arguments. It wasn’t enough for him to be hurt. You wanted him to understand.

“Fine,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady but feeling anger prickle under your skin. “If it’s so ridiculous, then maybe I’ll make sure you get a taste of what that feels like. You’ll feel as ‘ridiculous’ as you’ve made me feel this week. We’ll see if it’s still a joke then.”

Jude’s head whipped toward you, a mix of shock and anger flashing across his face. “What? Are you serious right now?” His voice was tense, a low warning.

You felt a pang of guilt, but you held his gaze. “I just don’t think you’d understand it any other way.”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He stared back at the road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The quiet between you was no longer uncomfortable but electric, charged with a bitterness that hadn’t been there before.

The car finally pulled up to the restaurant where you were supposed to meet your friends. The weight of what you’d just said hanging heavily between you. Jude cut the engine and just sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he didn’t trust himself to speak. You didn´t move either, not knowing what was he going to do. After a beat, he climbed out, moving around to your door without a word. When he opened it, he didn’t look at you, just held the door and waited for you to step out.

You could see the tension in his posture, his usual warmth and confidence replaced by a coldness that made your heart ache. But you were both too proud, too angry, to say anything.

As you neared the entrance, Jude’s hand shot out, gripping your waist with a firm possessiveness. The touch wasn’t gentle or affectionate as usual; it was more of a declaration. Despite the anger simmering between you, he wasn’t about to let you carry out your threat to make him jealous. You tensed at his touch, your own anger rising as you felt him draw you in as if he could control you with a single motion.

Without thinking, you shrugged him off, shoving him away just enough to make your point. Jude halted, cursing under his breath, as he fought to keep his temper in check. The sharp click of the car lock sounded behind you as he pocketed the key, jaw clenched, but his eyes held yours for a moment. You both understood each other’s challenge, an unspoken line drawn that neither of you wanted to cross but couldn’t seem to avoid.

With your heads held high and expressions perfectly composed, you stepped into the restaurant, slipping on your masks of calm as you approached your friends. Your forced smiles and quiet greetings betrayed none of the tension between you, and you fell into the comfortable rhythm of small talk.

Back at the table, the spark of defiance inside you had turned into a full flame. Watching Jude as he laughed and charmed his way through conversations, acting as if your argument had never occurred, only fueled that fire. He didn´t get to act as if nothing happened. His face was relaxed, his posture easy—but you knew him well enough to sense the barely hidden tension in his movements, the occasional dart of his eyes toward you, checking, warning.

Fine, you thought. If he wanted to pretend everything was fine, you'd go along with it. In fact, you’d be the most composed person at the table. But where was the fun in that?

You turned your attention to the friend sitting beside you, leaning closer with an easy smile as you laughed at his stories. Your hand brushed against his as you reached for your drink, letting it linger just a second longer than usual. The warmth of his arm pressed lightly against yours as you angled your body toward him, giving him your full attention. Jude was watching, and you knew he was watching. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his mouth tighten, his easygoing demeanor slipping just a bit. His brows furrowed, and whatever his friend beside him was saying no longer seemed that interesting.

Good.

As the evening wore on, you let your laughter come a little too easily, smiling at your friend’s jokes, resting your hand briefly on his shoulder as you leaned in, your face just inches from his. Jude’s gaze was practically drilling into you, a dark intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, thrilling and defiant all at once.

You were loving it.

His hand came to rest on the table, fingers drumming an agitated beat, his knuckles white. At one point, he leaned forward to reach for his drink, and the subtle brush of his shoulder against yours sent a shiver down your spine. You caught his eyes, holding his gaze in challenge.

“You okay, baby?” you asked with a smile—the prettiest smile you could offer, eyes shining with a hint of mischief.

In response, his hand drifted under the table, finding your thigh and gripping it firmly. The heat of his palm burned through the silky fabric of your black dress, his fingers possessive, unapologetic. You swallowed, trying to focus on the conversation in front of you, but the pressure of his hand sent your pulse racing, a blend of anger and something far more dangerous surging through you.

Ignoring his grip, you shifted slightly and crossed your leg, pulling away just enough to let his hand slip, but not before his fingers tightened in a quick, heated squeeze. He didn’t let go; instead, he moved his hand further up, his fingers now grazing your upper thigh, daring you to push him away. You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting. Instead, you leaned even closer to your friend, laughing softly as you let your hair fall forward, just brushing Jude’s arm in the process.

You could feel the heat of Jude’s glare on your skin, the simmering anger in every tense line of his body. You risked a quick glance his way, only to find him staring back at you with a look so intense, so darkly possessive, it was almost predatory. You'd seen this look before, but only when you had pushed him too far, ignited something in him he couldn’t control. It was a fire you both knew too well, one you had stirred with every challenge, every teasing word. And now, that fire was about to consume everything.

“Come on, keep pushing me, love.” He muttered sarcastically, each word perfectly pronounced, making sure you heard him loud and clear.

He lifted his glass, fingers curling possessively around the stem, and took a slow, deliberate sip, never once breaking his intense eye contact. As he set it down, his gaze trailed down to your lips, full and inviting, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Then, his eyes moved lower, lingering on the soft curve of your breasts, which you had purposefully exposed just enough to rile him up when he wasn’t looking. His stare lingered there, hungry, possessive, making your stomach tighten with a mix of anticipation and anger.

No. No. He didn't get to be in control. This time, you were the one leading. Why did he manage to make you so nervous with just a few touches and his confident smirk? It wasn't fair.

His hand drifted higher on your thigh, and you fought to keep your breath steady. The weight of his touch sent a rush of heat through you, but you refused to look his way, keeping your attention on the friend beside you. Due to all the bickering and pointless arguments, it had been far too long since you’d been close to each other. Now, his touch sent a butterflies to your stomach, its effect magnified—three times more intense than before. Jude’s fingers tensed, his grip growing firmer, sending a clear message, a silent warning. But you leaned in again, touching your friend as you laughed, your fingers trailing along his, knowing exactly how it looked.

Jude’s jaw clenched, his leg brushing firmly against yours under the table, his knee pressing against you with an undeniable possessiveness. His hand squeezed your thigh, almost painfully, and you knew he was at his limit.

So, you laughed again, but this time harder at your friend’s joke.

“Something funny?” Jude muttered in a low voice, his words quiet enough that only you could hear, laced with irritation and a hint of warning.

You turned to him, your expression innocent, even sweet. “He’s just hilarious,” you said with a slight, shy and cute smile, raising your glass and meeting his eyes in a silent challenge.

His gaze darkened further, his fingers moving in a slow, heated drag along the inside of your thigh, and for a brief second, you fought to keep your composure, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you. His touch was a slow burn, each inch of contact sending a shiver through you that you tried to ignore.

Jude’s hand dropped back to the table, and for a moment, you thought he might finally let it go. But when you laughed again and casually complimented your friend with a teasing remark��something along the lines of, “You always look so good, I do not understand why are you still single,”— Jude’s expression darkened, his breath hitching slightly. He choked on his drink, fingers gripping the glass so tightly you half-expected it to shatter. You could practically feel the heat radiating from him, his control slipping just a little more with every word.

You pressed your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh. He set his glass down hard, his voice a rough whisper. “May I remind you that you are not the one who’s single?” he asked, his eyes flashing with a dangerous glint.

You raised a brow, unfazed, and turned back to your friend. “Am I pushing it?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a sly smile playing on your lips. But just as you were about to rest your hand on your friend’s arm for the fifteenth time that night, you felt Jude’s hand slip over yours—this time grasping your wrist, his fingers rough and insistent, stopping you before you could touch another man.

“Do not, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice like steel, laced with something electric that sent a thrill up your spine.

Without a word, you twisted your hand free and crossed your legs again, your knee brushing his leg as you did. His fingers found your wrist again, pulling you closer this time, his lips near your ear as he muttered, “You think this is a game?”

The heat of his breath against your skin made your heart race, and you felt your pulse quicken as he held your gaze, daring you to keep this up. His fingers lingered on your wrist, and for a second, you wondered if he might actually kiss you right there, just to make his point, in front of everyone, as if he didn’t care who was watching.

God you wanted that. Like, a lot.

At last, as the evening wound down and you both stood to say goodbye, Jude didn’t let you slip away. His hand slid possessively around your waist, holding you close as you say goodbye to the group, his grip firm, almost punishing. Once outside, he pulled you aside, finally away from the prying eyes of your friends.

Without a word, Jude pushed you gently against the side of the car, his eyes blazing with frustration, anger, and something else you couldn’t quite name. He stepped in close, his hands framing your waist, pressing you against the cool metal. His breath brushed against your neck, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“You think this was funny?” he asked, his fingers pressing into your hips, his gaze intense, unyielding.

You lifted your chin, holding his stare. “No,” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I thought it was fair.”

Jude’s eyes darkened, and his grip tightened, his hands possessive, nearly desperate, as he pulled you even closer. The air between you was charged, tense, and thick with unspoken words. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against you, the warmth of his hands sending shivers through you.

“You’re being…,” you started, trying to keep a teasing smile in check, though your amusement slipped through. His anger was palpable; he glared at you with narrowed eyes, locking onto you with an intensity that was thrilling, even a little dangerous.

“Mmm, what was it?” you asked, pretending to struggle to remember the exact word that had lit the fuse in this absurd, yet undeniably thrilling standoff. You paused for effect, watching the way his jaw tightened. “Oh, right—dramatic.”

You knew that would push him right over the edge, and sure enough, he leaned in, his expression hardening as his gaze burned right into yours. You could almost feel the warmth of his breath, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, as if he were drawing you into his orbit. He hadn’t even said a word yet, but somehow, he had you on edge, just as he always did, effortlessly.

“But you know,” you added with a smirk, leaning up on tiptoe to press a playful kiss on his heated cheek, “I think it suits you.”

Then, with all the nonchalance you could muster, you turned on your heel, heading for the passenger seat as though nothing had happened. For a moment, he didn’t move; you could practically feel his stare following you. But then, before you could even open the door, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, right back into that same charged position, his grip firm but unmistakably possessive. And despite yourself, you couldn’t help but let a thrill run down your spine.

“You have no idea what you just started,” he murmured, his voice thick with a dangerous promise, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

And as you looked up at him, feeling the heat, the thrill, and the tension swirl between you, you realized you didn’t regret a single thing.

Jude’s smirk deepened as he held you there, his grip possessive and firm, his gaze dark with intent. You could feel every inch of space crackling with tension, every breath laced with challenge and defiance. He wasn't letting you go, not after what you'd just put him through. And part of you didn't want him to.

“You think this is a joke,” he muttered smirking, his voice low and edged with a dangerous sort of amusement. His fingers traced along your arm, each touch purposeful, as if to prove just how much control he still held. You raised your chin, meeting his gaze with equal defiance, a small smile on your lips.

“I think it is a taste of your own medicine,” you replied, your voice soft but unyielding. He leaned in, his lips so close they brushed against yours as he spoke, sending a shiver straight through you. He couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you.

“You’re going to regret this,” he murmured, his words a promise as his thumb skimmed along your jaw, tipping your face up to meet his.

[starkeyslibrary]

FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 1

pairing: you x drew starkey

The sound of Drew’s laugh filled the cozy apartment as you scrolled through your phone, settling deeper into the plush couch. It was a laugh you’d heard a thousand times – warm, genuine and utterly infectious. You glanced up to see him standing in the kitchen, stirring pasta sauce in a hoodie that he’d stolen from your side of the closet weeks ago. The sigh made your heart swell.

“How’s it going?” you asked, setting your phone aside.

“Almost done,” Drew said, flashing you a grin over his shoulder. “Hope you’re ready to be impressed by my gourmet skills.”

You chuckled, pulling your knees to your chest. “If it’s anything like last time, I should probably have the takeout app ready.”

Drew pretended to be offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “That was one time! And in my defense, the oven was possessed.”

Moments like this had become your favorite part of life with Drew – quiet, intimate evenings that felt words away from the chaos of Hollywood. For all the glitz and glam of his career, Drew was just Drew with you.

As you watched him carefully plate the pasta, you couldn’t help but feel proud of everything he’d accomplished. His latest role in the Hellraiser reboot was shaping up to be a major career move. And while you knew the spotlights came with challenges, you’d always been his biggest cheerleader.

Later that night, as the two of you lounged on the couch, Drew’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He glanced at the screen, then sighed.

“It’s my manager,” he said, sitting up. “Give me a sec?”

“Of course,” you said, reaching for the remote to find something to watch.

Drew stepped into the next room, his voice low but audible enough for snippets to carry over.

“…. Press tours…. Odessa …. Chemistry angle?”

You tried to focus on the TV, but your curiosity got the better of you. Odessa A’Zion – Drew’s new co-star. You’d seen her name pop up recently in articles about the movie, paired with glowing reviews of her talent and personality. She seemed nice enough in interviews – bold and charming in a way that made you feel a little plain by comparison.

“Everything okay?” you asked, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

“Yeah,” he said, but his tone wasn’t convincing. “Just.. movie stuff. Our team thinks Odessa and I need to lean into the whole co-star chemistry thing for the press.”

“Chemistry thing?” you echoed, your brow furrowing.

“It’s all PR,” Drew said quickly, his hands finding yours. “They’re talking about a few staged photo ops, maybe some friendly banter during interviews. You know how it goes.”

You nodded slowly, even as an uneasy feeling settled in your chest. You did know how it went – Hollywood loved its narratives, and the lines between fiction and reality often blurred.

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Drew added, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re the one I love, Y/N. Not Odessa. Never Odessa.”

You smiled softly, but the words didn’t erase the knot in your stomach.

The first set of paparazzi photos hit the internet like a wildfire: Drew and Odessa at a café, leaning across the table as if sharing a secret. Her laugh was captured mid-burst, her hand grazing his arm.

The headlines were just as dramatic as you’d feared: Drew Starkey and Odessa A ‘Zion’s Off-Screen Chemistry is Off the Charts!

You scrolled through the photos on your phone, bile rising in your throat. They were clearly staged, every angle too perfect to be a coincidence. But that didn’t make it easier to stomach.

The worst part was the comments. Fans fawned over the “new power couple”, dissecting every detail of their interactions. People who had once rooted for you and Drew now seemed eager to erase you from the narrative entirely.

When Drew came home that night, you tried to play it cool, but your unease must’ve shown.

“Hey” he said, dropping his bag by the door and crossing the room to kiss your forehead. “You okay?”

“Mmm, fine” you said, forcing a smile.

Drew studied you for a moment before glancing at your phone. His face fell as he recognized the photos.

“Y/N, I –“

“It’s okay,” you interrupted, setting the phone aside. “I know it’s just PR. It’s your job.”

Drew sat beside you, his hands wrapping around yours. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said firmly. “You’re the one I come home to. You’re the one I love.”

You wanted to believe him. But as Drew kissed your temple and pulled you into his arms, the unease lingered, whispering doubts you weren’t ready to face.

TAGLIST: @princesspeach124 @idiotussupremus @eitaababe @13tter @drewsephrry @drewstarkeyzwhore @cooper8224 @maybankslover @elyseesarchive @ietss @hoelesslyt @wtfdudesblog

[pandapetals]

Period Cramps

You find Rogue, Jean and Storm complaining that men don't get period cramps.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Hehehe i saw a art (from@pequena_padawan on tiktok) of scott being projected with period cramps so i wrote this.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

“I swear, men just don’t get it,” Rogue complained, stretching out on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

You walked into the living room with a raised brow, catching the exasperated look on her face. “Men don’t get what?” you asked, setting your mug down and joining them.

Jean glanced up from where she sat, an amused smirk playing on her lips. “Period cramps,” she replied. “Rogue was just telling us how Remy thought a heating pad would magically make everything better—like that’s all it takes.”

Ororo shook her head with a chuckle. “Oh, that’s nothing. I once had Kurt ask me if periods actually hurt, or if women just liked to be dramatic about it.” She raised an eyebrow, and all of you groaned.

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, flopping down on the couch beside Rogue. “One time, Logan had the audacity to say, ‘It can’t be that bad, right?’ I’ve never seen a man regret his words so fast.”

Rogue laughed, nudging you. “Logan? Mr. Tough Guy said that?” She grinned, shaking her head. “I thought he’d be more careful with that mouth of his around you.”

“Trust me, even Logan has his clueless moments,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Sometimes I think men are just wired to be oblivious about this stuff.”

Right on cue, Logan and Scott walked into the room, their arms full of bags from a grocery run. They exchanged glances, clearly sensing the united front of irritation in the room, but Logan couldn’t help himself.

“What’s with the looks?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, just discussing period cramps and how none of you guys get it,” Jean replied sweetly, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Scott scoffed, setting the bags on the counter. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. It’s just a little cramp, right?” he said, shooting a clueless grin at Logan, who smirked in agreement.

Jean and Ororo exchanged a glance, and before you knew it, Jean was subtly pressing her fingers to her temple, her eyes narrowing with a mischievous focus.

Suddenly, Logan and Scott’s faces twisted in unison. Logan's smirk vanished as his brows knitted together in confusion, then pain. Scott doubled over slightly, clutching his stomach as his face went pale.

“What the hell—?” Logan growled, his voice strained. His hand went to his lower abdomen, his eyes widening in bewilderment. “What… what is this?”

Jean crossed her arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “That, gentlemen, is what a ‘little cramp’ feels like,” she said, barely holding back her laughter.

Scott’s eyes shot up to her, panicked. “Are… are you doing this?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Jean replied, giving a little shrug. “Thought you two could use a little empathy lesson.”

Just then, Xavier wheeled in, his eyebrow raised as he took in the scene. “What’s all this commotion?” he asked, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he surveyed Logan and Scott, both clutching their stomachs and grimacing.

“Oh, Professor,” Ororo said with a grin. “The boys were just getting a taste of period cramps. Jean thought they needed some perspective.”

Xavier’s lips quirked up into a subtle smile. “Well, it does seem they could use a little… enlightenment,” he mused, pressing his fingers to his temple as well. You felt a slight ripple in the air, and then, judging by the way Logan practically doubled over, the cramps intensified.

“God— damn , Charles!” Logan barked out, his face twisted in agony as he shot Xavier a betrayed look. “Are you both in on this?”

Xavier raised an eyebrow, entirely unbothered. “Perhaps next time, you’ll think twice before dismissing someone else’s pain.” His tone was mild, but his amusement was unmistakable.

Scott looked like he was about to cry, clutching his side as he turned to Jean. “Alright, alright—I get it! I get it! Just… please, make it stop.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Logan threw you an almost pleading look, his tough-guy façade thoroughly shattered. He was sweating, his hand clutching his abdomen like he was in a wrestling match with his own body.

“Oh, it can’t be that bad, right?” you teased, grinning up at him.

Logan’s glare softened just a bit, though he let out a strangled grunt. “I’m… I’m sorry, okay?” he managed to grit out. “I’ll never say another word about period cramps again. Just—tell them to stop.”

You exchanged a look with Jean, who finally lifted her finger from her temple releasing her telepathic grip. Logan and Scott straightened up slowly, breathing hard as the ghost of the cramps faded.

Logan glared at you, though there was a hint of reluctant admiration in his gaze. “You’re ruthless, you know that?” he muttered, reaching out to steady himself against the couch.

You leaned up, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Now you understand. And next time, maybe you’ll keep your commentary to yourself.”

Logan shook his head, rubbing his abdomen. “Remind me never to cross you and Jean,” he muttered, glancing over at Scott, who looked equally traumatized.

Ororo let out a laugh, clapping her hands. “Lesson learned, then. Welcome to our world, boys.”

Logan shot you one last look, half-grumbling, half-amused. “I still think you’re all insane,” he mumbled, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You leaned against his arm, smirking. “Just remember that next time you think about underestimating us.”

[bloggerspam]

Steph's new year resolution is to spend actual time with Val.

First step: Val's phone number.

Asking Jason will be a bust. He's Val's boss, a good one, so Steph won't even bother asking when she knows he won't divulge employee information like that.

That leaves asking Val herself, or passing a note along with Jason.

She trusts Jason, she does. He's leagues better than if Steph were to ask Dick, or even Tim.

She'd rather get made fun of, in that loving way Jason does, than be smothered and inundated with questions and screams the way Dick and Tim do.

But Jason is a good boss, and Steph's grown up with too many Bats to know what the normal boundary is between employee and employer.

So, obviously, she stalks Jason at work in her free time to see if Val works any of those shifts to ask her herself.

She hits money on the third day.

"Val!" Steph saunters over with a wide smile. "I haven't seen you since Riddler took you away."

"Hey, Steph." Val looks so cute when she's flustered, "Yeah, sorry about that."

Val's working on a car, in that delicious coverall grease monkey look, doing a simple oil change. Steph perches herself delicately on the side, so as to not be in the way.

"I'm just glad you're okay," Steph pouts, "It's dangerous to go towards the Rogues, you know."

"Oh, well…" Val laughs nervously, smudging more grease when she rubs at the back of her neck "Y'know, Amity Parkers are just built different I guess."

"I have no doubt that you…handled yourself just fine," Steph placates, leaning forward a bit to run a finger down Val's well muscled biceps, "but I would feel so much better if you played by Gotham rules…"

Val does that nervous little laugh again, breathy, and gods does Steph want to ruin her.

"I can try," Val bites her lip, "But with friends like Danny…"

Steph giggles. "He's a trouble magnet huh?"

"You have no idea." Val smiles helplessly, and they get caught like that for a long moment.

Val's eyes skip back and forth between hers, even flicking to Steph's lips for a scant second, making Steph's heart skip a million beats.

But then Val coughs, breaking eye contact to reach under the hood to do…something. Steph's too busy mourning the death of a moment to really figure it out.

But Steph is nothing if not persistent.

"So, hey, speaking of friends…" Steph clears her throat, "You go to Gotham U, right?"

"Yeah," Val confirms, flicking a glance over at her as she shuts the car hood, "Early education major."

Steph pauses. Because what are the chances? "No way."

Val hunches her shoulders up, "I know, doesn't really suit me but—"

"No!" Steph frantically interrupts, "That's not what I meant, it's just, I'm a human development major!"

Val stares at her, uncomprehending, which is fair. Steph smiles helplessly as she explains, "I want to be an special education teacher, for teens with learning disabilities."

Val blinks. "…How have we not seen each other on campus?"

"I have a night job, so I take a lot of my classes online." Steph explains, "The ones I do have to go in person for are late afternoon classes, usually Wednesdays."

"Ah." Val nods in understanding, "I take mostly morning classes, and afternoon shifts here at the shop."

"Like ships in the night," Steph smiles ruefully, "Or bikes in the afternoon, I guess."

Val laughs, voice a yummy timbre that brings a little shiver down her spine. There's a rasp to her, and her accent makes everything sound so much nicer.

"That means this will work out." Steph gets them back on track, feeling all sorts of nervous.

"What will?" Val wipes her hands on a rag, tossing it over her shoulder as she leans on the car next to her.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to study together some time," Steph bats her eyelashes, "With my schedule being the way it is, it's kind of hard for me to make friends…"

"S-sure, yeah, sounds great." Val stutters, patting her pockets for her phone, only to realize she's in her coveralls. "Ah…"

"Just dictate it to me, and I'll text you so you'll have mine." Steph giggles, pulling out her phone and creating the new contact as Val gives her the info.

"And hey, maybe we could spar some too," Steph eyes Val's biceps, remembering the little brawl she and Danny had and licking her lips, "It's one of my new years resolutions to keep fit."

"I'm not an easy opponent y'know." Val smirks, looking Steph up and down and sparking shivers with her gaze.

"Trust me," Steph mutters as she sends of a winky face text, "I know."

(Val, without Steph's knowledge, doesn't realize it's flirting flirting.

She just thinks it's Steph's personality, being flirty with the winky face.

Sam bangs her head on her desk when Val texts her so.)

===

Danny is visiting on Valentines Day, in protest to the holiday itself.

Danny's always kind of hated holidays in general, now that Val thinks about it.

Tucker says it's leftover trauma from the school bullying, Sam says it's because his parents are assholes about them. Val just thinks Danny hates capitalism.

It could be all of the above, honestly.

The point is, it's Valentine's Day and Danny has just texted her that he's on his way to Gotham to hang out with her, and Val's not sure if this means Jay's done something wrong or not.

Val has been talking to her friends on almost a daily basis, but Danny's been tight-lipped about his friendship with Jay.

After Christmas Break, after the phone number exchange, Team "Get that D in Danny" thought it was a done deal.

Jay was a straight forward kind of guy, and Danny's never been shy about flirting.

Surely, something should have happened, right?

But Val wasn't really present when Danny and Sam were sort of dating, and Val was in the relationship with Danny, so she doesn't actually know how Danny is when he's dating someone.

She's been taking her cues from Tucker, who says that Danny isn't really the "my girlfriend/boyfriend" type. Danny's always referred to Sam and Val, in their respective relationships, by their names.

But then again, everyone in Amity Park knew each other, and ghosts hardly ever care about such mortal statuses. (Ignoring Johnny and Kitty, whose whole shtick is their relationship. That's a whole different can of worms.)

The point is, Val is suffering. Team "Get that D in Danny" is suffering.

And she needs to know if she has to beat up her boss for Danny or not.

Jay's been Fort Knox about the whole thing too, and it's getting irritating.

"Danny's coming to pick me up." Val finally says at the end of her shift, glaring up at her boss. "What did you do?"

Jay, wide eyed and covered in grease, drops the washer fluid in his hands on his (thankfully) steel-toed boot.

"Danny's what—" Jay lunges for his jacket, draped over his workstation, frantically pulling up his phone and— "I gotta go."

She then watches her boss, resident Crime Lord, Billionaire baby Jason Peters Todd-Wayne, book it to the back rooms.

What the fuck?

Ten minutes later, Jay comes back out, freshly showered and in clean, fitted clothes. He's even got a red rose from…somewhere.

Val reiterates: What the fuck?

"Danny hates red roses." Val says, confusion laced through her entire fucking being. They look too much like blood blossoms for any of the Amity Parkers to have any sort of affection for the flower. "He doesn't like red flowers in general."

Jay immediately tosses it into a nearby oil catch tray, looking like he might even set it on fire, if he could just find a match…

"Okay, seriously," Val puts her hands on her hips, "What the fuck is going on? Was that an apology rose?"

"What?" Jay whips his head towards her, "No!"

"Gods," Val throws her hands up in exasperation, "Are y'all dating or what? Danny's been weirdly adamant y'all are just hangin' out but I see you in here, moonin' and what not."

Her accent is getting worse in her agitation and she really hates it, which turns into a vicious cycle.

"We're not dating." Jay finally admits, sitting heavily down on one of the stools by his workstation. "But I am wooing him."

There's a long beat of silence.

"Pardon?" Val's voice is flat, disbelieving. "You're what?"

"Wooing." Jason juts his chin out, "We've done a couple of face time hang outs, streamed movies together and stuff. But it just never seemed the right time to ask him for a visit, or for me to go visit him."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Val tries to soften her voice. Red Hood, resident crime lord and bad ass, is a romantic. Huh.

"I wanted to ask him in person." Jay mumbles, "Important stuff's for in person conversations."

"In this day and age?" Val asks unthinkingly. "I doubt Danny would care."

They both know he'd probably say yes.

"Yeah, but Danny's been…he's been looking into schools to transfer to," Jay looks down at his hands, "Didn't want to influence the choices."

Danny had come out to this parents about Phantom just last month. It was a development everyone was not only extremely thankful for, but still getting used to.

The Fentons, as expected, were fully supportive. They turned a dime, burned their research metaphorically and literally to 'start over from an unbigoted perspective.'

Jazz has been thoroughly enjoying the family therapy sessions.

Schedules were created, to lessen Danny's load, and better safety locks were made to mitigate the necessity of those patrols in the first place.

Overall, Danny's been sleeping more, less stressed, and happy as a clam, if a little embarrassed by his parent's smothering love and support.

Val had thought that maybe Jay was a big part of that too, romantically speaking. Clearly, she was only half right.

"Danny loves Gotham." Val starts, carefully picking her words. Because it's true, he loves it more than she does. "He likes how weird and crazy it is, and Gotham U's engineering program is one of the best in the nation."

It would have to be, with how often things need to be reconstructed around here.

"The pizza's great too," Danny's voice suddenly cuts in from behind her, "Not to mention the company."

Val twirls around, hearing the clatter of Jay jumping up suddenly and banging his hip on his worktable with a pained hiss.

"How long have you be standing there?" Jay squeaks as he rubs his hip, face burning.

"Not long, since Val said I love Gotham. Which I do." Danny tilts his head with a confused smile. "Why? Gossiping about me?"

"We were talking about your choices in transfer." Val quickly covers, as much fun as it would be to just call both of them out, Val's not that mean. "Didn't want to accidentally influence the choice or anythin', y'know."

"Last time I checked you were looking into Star City, right?" Jay quickly adds, shooting Val a grateful look.

"Yep." Danny grins, popping the 'p' obnoxiously, "They've got a pretty comprehensive scholarship, but it's about the same as Gotham's, and honestly, Gotham's in my top two choices—"

"Gotham's a top choice?" Jay cuts in, confused but sounding a little…hopeful, "Nobody ever…I mean, even I know Gotham's crazy…"

"Gotham's a lot like Amity Park," Danny shrugs, before looking away with alarmingly red ears, "Just bigger, more goth. Plus, y'know, you and Val are here…not to mention the rogues here are way more fun than Amity's ghostly menagerie…"

"Are you sure you don't mean the vigilantes?" Val smirks, sensing an opportunity. "Or maybe a certain vigilante?"

"Mmm…nope." Danny feigns thinking hard about it. "I definitely meant the rogues."

"Uh huh…" Val drags out, "Nothing at all to do with your third place hall pass pick."

"Hall pass pick?" Hook, line, and sinker. Jay tilts his head. "What's that?"

"It's a list of celebrities monogamous couples will allow their significant other to sleep with and not count as cheating." Val innocently explains, gleefully watching Danny squirm. "It was mostly a joke, but me and Danny had one when we were dating."

"And heroes and vigilantes are basically celebrities," Jay follows the line of thought, before his eyes get a little gleam to them, "Which Bat does Danny have a celeb crush on?"

"No-one!" Danny hastily answers. Val wonders what Jay would do to his siblings if Danny did have a celeb crush on them.

"Red Hood." Val smiles with all her fucking pearly whites. "Danny likes bad boys."

Danny makes a noise like a tea kettle. "Don't judge me!!!"

To Val, Jay looks like he doesn't know whether to be flattered, or concerned.

To Danny, he must look thoroughly confused.

"Listen," Danny tries to explain himself, "Have you seen those thigh holsters???"

Jay chokes. Val laughs her fucking ass off.

(The three of them get pizza afterward.

Val missed her opportunity to leave them to it, and has to sit there and watch Jason stare at Danny making porno noises at how good the pizza is.

She texts Steph about how much she hates Valentine's Day because of it.

Until, of course, Steph joins in and she hates it a little less.)

===

Easter break, and Steph is bored out of her god damn mind.

She texts Cass first, then Babs, but one's in dance practice and the other's working a shift at the library.

Naturally, she texts Val next, sending over a selfie of her pouting and sad, with an appropriately dramatic lovelorn caption.

She gets back a picture of Sam, Tucker, and Danny fighting each other on a couch, controllers in hand with a glow reflecting against their faces in a dark, but massive looking room.

"Back home in the trenches," Steph reads aloud, sighing and lovesick.

They've been texting back and forth for the past month now, and honestly? Steph considers them dating.

The problem is, even when Steph says "it's a date!" Val just…doesn't seem to get it.

Steph would call it a straight girl move, if she didn't know 100% that Val at least thinks Steph's sexy af.

Or, at least, really wants to kiss her, if the way the other girl stares at Steph's lips is anything to go by.

And Val stares a lot.

But she always pulls back with a nervous laugh, as if Steph is the one rejecting her.

It's very frustrating, but Steph has learned that Val doesn't actually have a lot of experience with girls, so she might just be…shy.

But! At least they've been on study dates, and sparring dates, and one time they even got froyo!

Steph's been trying really hard to be patient.

It's not really working.

There's another ding! It's Cass, telling her to come over to Wayne Manor. The Batkids are having a sudden movie marathon.

She has a lot of fun with her family, watching terrible horror movies and throwing popcorn at all the stupid people doing stupid things. She sends Val a selfie of her cuddling up with Cass and Damian, of Dick and Jason dumping buckets of popcorn on each other, of Tim and Duke taking god damn notes.

It's even more fun when Val sends pictures back. Of Sam sitting on Tucker and Danny laughing so hard he's fallen off the sofa. There's a selfie of Val and Sam painting the boy's nails in bright neon green color, and a selfie of the group in matching ghost themed pajamas, what looks like Wallace and Gromit playing on the big screen behind them. A picture where Danny and Tucker are snoring, cuddling each other very intimately, with Sam in the background doing a little peace sign.

Steph's buried under Tim's legs and Dick's arms now, hardly able to send a selfie of her face with the way it's covered in limbs, but she manages it.

Val sends one back, in a darkened room where Sam is watching some movie next to the sleeping boys. Val's sleepy smile and half lidded gaze warms her up from the inside.

It's a great night, all in all.

She dreams of soft kisses, warm cuddles, and B grade horror movie kiss scenes with a smile on her face, she's sure of it.

(Steph wakes up to someone rudely tearing off the blanket she was sharing with Cass and loudly announcing it's breakfast.

She throws a pillow at Damian for it, who scoffs and dodges her 'paltry attempt.' Her head hurts from all the sugar she consumed last night, and there's an ache in her back from sleeping on the floor.

Val sent her a good morning text and rumpled selfie that features a soft smile, and Tucker two steps away from spilling pancakes all over Val.

Steph eats breakfast with such a wide smile, Duke asks if she won the lottery or something.)

===

It's looking to be a very hot summer in Gotham, if April is anything to go by.

Isn't April supposed to be full of showers? They had an abrupt chill last week due to Mr. Freeze, but since then it's been hot and Val is suffering.

But Danny has come 'round to visit, and it gives her the energy she needs to get through the day so she can hang out with them over the weekend. Danny's always run cold, and Val's never been shy of siphoning off that chill in the summertime.

Val didn't have a shift today, so Danny picked her up from school and they've decided that pancakes and waffles are in order.

It's 2pm on a Thursday, but that hardly even matters.

What matters is that Danny is wrong and waffles are clearly more superior than pancakes.

"You can throw pancakes like a frisbee, what are you even saying," Danny rolls his eyes as they cut through an alley to get the Denny's, "Waffles are way too crunchy."

"I want to look inside your head and see what delusion is playing 24/7," Val shoots back, "Why would a food need to be used as a frisbee to be superior, first of all, and second of all, the texture is not crunchy."

"The inside of my head is just like any other human," Danny scoffs, "It's been tested and everything. Plus, if you can't use your food item as a frisbee in order to quell the sausage rebellion, is it even worth having as food?"

Val squints her friend for a moment, even going so far as to pause her walking. Danny, after another moment, stops with her but does not meet her eyes.

She smacks the back of his head.

"Ow! What the fuck Val! Just because I'm right!"

"No joking about tests." Val growls, waiting until Danny shows the appropriate amount of regret, before swiftly getting back on topic, "Besides. Waffles are sturdier, and the shape can still be used as a frisbee against sausage rebellions."

Danny takes a breath for the admonishment, centering himself from bad memories. He thinks on her latter statement, nodding reluctantly. "Textures still shit though."

Val groans, continuing their way through the alley, "The texture is so that syrup has places to be, syrup on pancakes just slides off—"

"Hands up!" Just in front of them, a man is brandishing a knife in one hand, with the other reaching palm up, "Give me your wallets and nobody gets hurt."

Val internally scoffs, making eye contact with a gleeful Danny. He's been involved in more Rogue incidents than Val has, and he doesn't even live here.

"Aw, c'mon man," Danny simpers, hands in his pockets and shoulders scrunching up, "Can't you see we're just poor college students just trying to get to Denny's?"

"And you and your girl can go along your merry way," The mugger rasps, "after you give me your wallets. You can take the date home."

Val and Danny simultaneously make an uck sound.

"Been there," Danny grins, ruefully.

"Done that." Val rolls her eyes.

"Got the scars and everything to prove it!" Danny chirps, showing his lichtenberg scars even though they're irrelevant.

Val smacks him upside the head again, but Danny doesn't even flinch. Stupid halfa-biology.

"Just give me the money!" The mugger loses his patience, pulling out a gun. Ugh.

"And why don't you give me a break," A modulated voice says from above, before something large drops down and breaks the mugger's arm.

"Hah! Break, that's a good one." Danny laughs.

Red Hood freezes, before groaning with that modulated voice. "Nobody tell Nightwing. I'd never live it down."

Val bites her lip, wondering if Nightwing is Dick Grayson, the asshole cop who arrested her and Danny a couple months ago. Dude was not subtle in the interrogation of his sibling's new friends, and kept riffing with Danny using puns.

Val hates the guy on that principle alone, so it won't be hard.

"Lips are sealed, Bo—ahem—ig guy." Val really has to figure out the best time to let her boss know that she knows.

"Thanks for saving us, Red Hood, sir." Danny smiles at Hood, shy-like. "I didn't think we'd see you again after…"

"That thing with Riddler?" Even through the modulator is apparent Hood is smiling. "I thought you were finding trouble on purpose, but maybe trouble just likes to find you?"

Val's gotta hand it to him, Jay's a good actor. But as someone who knows who he is? It's clear that Hood is relishing the attention. Finding out your crime lord persona is a top choice must have outweighed the confusion of a crime lord persona being a top choice.

"Either way, it's no problem. Punks shouldn't be muggin' in my territory anyway." Hood peacocks his way into a casual leaning pose, and it's funny as all hell.

"Oh!" Danny looks around, "I didn't realize we were already in Crime Alley?"

"The one Denny's in Gotham is in Crime Alley," Val sighs, "I told you this."

"I thought we established that I don't listen to you." Danny retorts, "That's why we broke up."

"We broke up because of your clear preference for dick, Danny." Val drawls.

Hood chokes.

"This is bullying," Danny jokes, ears bright red from Val no doubt embarrassing him in front of his favorite vigilante, "And you have no leg to stand on, with the way you were drooling after Kate Winslet."

"Most of your hall pass picks were men," Val reminds him, and because she's nothing if not an opportunist, "Speaking of which—-what's it like to be texting one of them almost every day?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Danny sniffs, trying to pull Val through the alley, "Why do you keep bringing up my hall pass picks anyway?"

"Everyday?" Hood's voice, even modulated, sounds jealous. He's probably wondering if Danny's been texting the other top two choices above him.

"Yeah, everyday." Val confirms, much to Danny's dismay.

"Val!" Danny hisses as Hood leans a little closer. "Shut up."

Danny's probably thinking she might embarrass him by mentioning that Red Hood is Danny's third place pick. If only he knew.

"My boss is his fourth place pick." Val grins, as Danny slumps in relief. If only he knew!

She watches intently as Hood freezes, hand going to a pocket that isn't there, almost like he wants to immediately text someone. He seems to settle for a slow drawl, "S'that so. Small world. You work for a vigilante I know or something?"

Damn good actor, but not subtle enough for someone whose looking. He's definitely warring with a bunch of different emotions, and even through the helmet she can tell.

He wants to know why his civilian identity is fourth, when his crime lord persona is third.

"O-KAY!" Danny yells, pulling her more forcefully, "That's enough of oversharing with a crime lord who doesn't know us and clearly has other things to do. Thank you again Mr. Hood, big fan, love your work, the 8 heads was inspired really—"

Val cackles all the way through the alley, watching as Hood grapples away in a daze.

When they sit down at Denny's, Danny gets a text from Jay that makes him mumble into his menu.

"Why does he want to know my top two hall pass picks? I'm not even in a relationship!"

Val tosses a jam packet at his head.

(Steph texts her afterward, asking about Val's Hall Pass picks.

Val texts her no comment.

Somehow, Jay finds out, which leads to Danny finding out.

Danny texts Steph that Kate Winslet, Amanda Seyfried, and Black Canary were her top 3.

When Steph texts All Blondes, huh? Val lunges at Danny right there in the Denny's.

They get kicked out, and are summarily banned from the establishment.)

===

Gotham is muggy in May.

Steph hates how sticky it makes her skin feel, how lethargic her body gets, and most of all, she hates how her she stupidly made her Spoiler uniform have a lower face mask.

She's definitely going to get pimples, and it's going to suck.

The bright side is that she's best friends with not just one, but two Wayne kids.

This means that she can enjoy the Wayne Manor indoor pool with the other Batkids for most of the summer day until patrol time.

It's good to have connections.

She's relaxing with Babs and Tim on the lounge chairs, and whilst normally she would join in on the watergun fight the other batboys and Cass have going on, she's just too tired.

It's been a long first week of summer, especially with that Mad Hatter case she and Cass broke two days ago.

Mad Hatter cases always gave her the heebie jeebies, considering her own blonde hair and blue eyes.

So: chilling at the pool. Val comes back next week, with a bonus Danny in tow to start the process of finding an apartment for both of them to share, and Steph's not the only one excited about it.

Jason's been over the god damn moon.

Her phone buzzes with two incoming texts, but before Steph can even reach over to grab it, a loud thump! startles all vigilantes to whip up towards the sound.

Jason has tripped over a lounge chair, ass over kettle, groaning.

Amidst the laughter, Steph gets another buzz, so she checks her phone. It's two discord messages from Val.

valerino: Phantoms dog has invaded sams pool valerino: D's really excited about it 🙄

The last text is a photo of Danny, shirtless, getting absolutely slobbered on by a glowing green dog. Holy shit. Wait a second.

stephieeee: uhm???? green dog????? stephieeee: did u send this pic to Jason too? valerino: Yeah, long story short, hes a ghost dog. Hes cool though. And what? No, why? stephieeee: cuz he just ate shit tripping on a lounge chair stephieeee: right after u sent that pic valerino: Lol danny sent a selfie i think. We're taking a break from a water fight tucker started to play with cujo stephieeee: lolllllll stephieeee: that tracks stephieeee: we had a water gun fight too stephieeee: but i sat out with the girlies stephieeee: the heat is just stephieeee: Too Much valerino: Lol danny just showed me the pic he sent. Its a thirst trap, and he didnt even know valerino sent an image

The picture of of a shirtless Danny, with abs, holding up a see through, green dog. His arm muscles glisten in the lighting as he smiles a beaming smile, teeth white and gleaming, with his face smooshed up against the dog's stretchy, pudgy little face. It's adorable and all kind of rippling muscle-y. Boy is lean, mean, and looking good in his NASA swimming trunks, even to Steph.

stephieeee: OMGGGGG stephieeee: hes actually RIPPED??? stephieeee: also i love cujo so much? he's adorable???? valerino: Hes stronger than he looks, remember? lol and yeah, cujos a real sweetheart

Steph honks out a laugh so loud it echoes even amidst the clamour of Jason being chased around for his phone. Babs hums an intrigued note, but Steph simply smiles at her and flaps a hand at where Dick has Jason in a headlock, whilst Damian grabs the phone and attempts to hack into it.

Steph decides to take a picture of the rowdy group, Jason with his really red face, Duke and Harper jeering at the photo with Dick. Damian had gotten bored once he saw it was just a picture from his so-called 'paramour.'

stephieeee: the fam is never letting him live this down stephieeee: plssssss stephieeee: Jason is so down bad its embarrraasssssiinnngggg

Satisfied, Steph decides to get up and grab some of the iced tea Alfred left for them earlier. She's taking a much deserved sip to soothe her throat when she her phone buzzes twice more.

valerino has sent an image valerino: Danny is embarrassed as all hell, his face is SO red!

It's a selfie of Val laughing with her whole body, sort of cut off as Danny scrambles to get a shirt on. He's alarmingly red, looking like he's tripped in his haste to get the Red Hood themed shirt on, but Steph can't focus on that.

She focuses on Val, wet in a bikini top and daisy dukes.

Steph chokes on her tea and falls into the pool, cup and phone and all.

At least, Steph thinks as she recovers from her almost death-by-bikini-pic fall, my phone is bat certified and waterproof.

She takes another quick look at the photo, before she dunks herself in once more, just to cool her flaming cheeks down.

Tim'll fish her out, if only to see what happened.

Until then, the water feels great.

(Val and Danny get a series of photos after, from an unknown number that claims to be Jay's brother Tim.

One of Jay and Steph red faced and commiserating with each other. They're clearly talking about something, hands gesturing at what looks like Jay's phone.

One of Steph in a simple purple bikini emerging from the pool glorious and slicking back her hair out of her face, eyes half open, looking sultry as she catches sight of the camera.

One of a shirtless Jay getting shot by multiple streams of water, one arm up and laughing and smiling, handsome and joyous.

One of Jason, toppled over a lounge chair with his hands covering his clearly red face.

One of Steph with only her eyes above the water, cheeks and neck so red you can still see them even submerged.

Val and Danny practically faint. Sam and Tucker have to write their thank you texts for them.)

===

"I might be dying." Val groans from where she's sprawled on the floor of the new apartment she and Danny are sharing for their duration of Sophomore year.

It's a nice place, for the Narrows. Big living room, two bedrooms, a nice bathroom that heats up in only a couple minutes. The kitchen isn't anything fancy, just a stove top and a microwave, but Val and Danny don't have the capability of cooking up fancy stuff anyway.

Val's stuff was packed up easy, not hard to do when a college dorm room doesn't really allow for a lot of stuff in the first place. Though she did have Tucker bring up Huntress stuff, as well as some of the packed up clothes she didn't get to bring up the first time she moved now that's she's got the room.

Danny doesn't have that many belongings, per say, He's minimalist, in that way.

But he has a lot of stuff for his workshop. Since they don't' have a third bedroom, most the living room's going to be dedicated to it. There's a big rolling table with drawers under it for storage that can be pushed to the side so Val can practice her katas, and an industrial tarp they can throw over it to use it as a dinner table if need be.

Danny, like his parents, likes to spread out whenever he's working on something.

Unlike his parents, however, he's paranoid about contamination, and always puts everything back in its place when he's done.

He's been burned too many times to not be.

Plus, Val can use his stuff to do maintenance on her hoverboard.

They like to be efficient and practical about things.

The point is, she, Danny, Tucker and Sam have spent most of the day lugging up heavy cardboard boxes and furniture that is heavy and sometimes metal.

"I said I might be dying!" Val reiterates into the silence of the now cardboard filled room.

"We heard you to the first time." Sam drawls as she walks into the living room with a cup of water from the kitchen. "I don't even know why you're whining."

"Yeah, Danny did most of the heavy lifting," Tucker chimes in as he trails in behind Sam with a box of pizza. She hands it over to Val as she sits up from her sweaty sprawl.

Val rolls her eyes, because that is inherently untrue. "It's June, it's hot, and most of us did heavy labor."

"No, no. Tucker's got a point," Danny cuts in, lugging the last box of what looks like a bunch of a tools. "I did, in fact, bring up all the furniture, and the bulk of the community stuff."

He sets it down with the rest of his workshop stuff, dusting his hands and adopting a stupid pose where he flexes his arm muscles. Val gulps down her water in disgust.

"And Val and I brought up all the clothes and bedroom stuff," Sam scoffs, "Tuck got a couple boxes of all that electronic crap."

"And none of us have halfa strength to make it easy." Val points a finger threateningly at Danny, who puts his hands up in surrender. "Hard. Labor."

They sit in a circle around the pizza and shoot the shit—making the same old banter that never gets old, making grandiose travel plans that may or may not ever leave the group chat.

About how Sam's set to intern at the Daily Planet, finally about to work with her hero Lois Lane. How she hates how shiny and modern Metropolis is. How Wes has this crazy theory that dorky, clumsy, always going to the bathroom Clark Kent is Superman. How Sam believes him 100%, but won't ever tell him because she thinks it's funny.

How Tuck has this suspicion that the Flash is affiliated with Star Labs, somehow. That the tech in there seems out of this world almost, inter-dimensional in the way ecto-tech can be, but on a different frequency. How his dorm-mate is definitely some kind of meta, maybe even a time traveler, with the way he keeps using words like crash and mode in weird ways. But he's a great roommate, so Tuck minds his business.

And then, of course, the conversation ends up to their love lives.

Sam's got this enby in one of her journalism classes that keeps talking circles around her and Sam's this close to hate fucking them about it.

Tuck's been flirting it up with the girls, per usual, but there's a girl whose been trying real hard to pick up what he's putting down, and he's not actually sure if he wants that.

That conversation goes on a tangent about asexuality and aromanticism, but it'll have to be tabled until after Tucker has time to really…research the idea.

"I'm telling you, Val," Tuck changes the subject, "Steph is definitely into you."

"All the spars? Study dates?" Danny adds in, "Hasn't she been taking you on those ice cream dates too?"

"First of all, it's froyo," Val corrects haughtily, "Second of all that's all friend stuff. I did all that stuff with you guys, and I'll be doing them with you once the new semester starts."

"Third of all," Sam continues, "You have no leg to stand on, Mr. can't play doomed tonight guys," Her impression of Danny is nasally, and horribly wrong, but it's too funny to not laugh at, "I'm gonna watch a movie with Jason on discord!"

"That's—that's different." Danny sputters.

"Dude sends you food on a weekly basis because you said you forget to eat sometimes," Tucker says reluctantly, "And sends you letters."

"Letters???" Sam says indignantly, "You didn't tell me about any letters!"

"Since when has he been sending you letters??" Val asks, grabbing Danny's collar and shaking him when he mumbles and doesn't answer them clearly.

"Since January!" Danny finally yells, grabbing her hands and pulling them off, "They're just, they're not—they're nice! He's being nice. I told him I missed getting letters, and…"

Tucker, Sam and Val all groan in unison.

"He's been wooing you for half a year and you didn't even notice??" Val shrieks, into the ceiling. The ceiling is unsympathetic, but Sam and Tucker are.

"You've basically been dating Steph for half a year and you didn't notice!" Danny's voice is high pitched, his ears are red, and he's screeching with his hands on his face as he falls back and rolls all over the ground.

"You're both useless." Sam intones, "This could be solved by texting them."

"I can't just text her." Val says hotly, at the same time Danny says "Important conversations are not for texts!"

"Gods, you're perfect for him," Val mumbles under her breath, remembering Jay's very same fucking words all those months ago.

"Relationships are all about open communication, y'all." Tucker says in a wise tone.

They all stare at him. He makes a face, shrugging. "Fair enough. Carry on being useless."

"You really think he likes me?" Danny says, in a small voice through his fingers. He's not looking at any of them, and is curled up on the floor. "You think he's been…wooing me?"

"Danny…." Sam shakes her head, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder. "The man has been trying his damnedest to make this whole thing romantic for you, hasn't he?"

"You've been having virtual breakfasts together, haven't you?" Tucker softly adds in, scooching over to pat Danny on the head.

Val rolls herself over to Danny's other side, the three of them surrounding him and patting him in some way. He reaches over, snags on Val's shirt sleeve.

"I'll text him," Danny's voice trembles, "But only if you text Steph."

Val opens her mouth to argue, but shuts it at Danny's pleading eyes. She sighs.

Tucker hands Danny his phone, and they draft about a million texts before they collectively settle. Movie and a dinner, just the two of them. Easy.

"Here goes nothing…" Danny takes a deep breath, before pressing send. He laughs nervously, before straight up chucking his phone at Sam, who catches it.

"I'm going to obsessively check my phone until he answers so let's work on your text instea—" A buzz interrupts him, all four heads swinging towards the phone in Sam's hand.

Her eyes widen, mouth gaping. Danny rolls over, leans to see—

"…Oh." Danny's face crumples. "I guess…I guess that's a no, then."

"Danny…" Tucker reaches for him, but Danny shakes his head and stands up.

"I gotta…I gotta get my room set up. Thanks for all the help guys, I—" He cuts himself off, voice going small and hurt, "I guess he got tired of waiting?"

He bites his lip. Val doesn't know what to say. None of them do.

He goes to his room, and Val never sends that text to Steph.

(Red Hood gets a text message from Danny asking Jason if he'd like to catch a movie together.

There's a follow up text where Danny asks if maybe Jason would like to get dinner afterward too, just the two of them.

Red Hood is in the middle of Nanda Parbat, stealing his stupid brother's no longer missing spleen back from the creep who tried to clone him.

Red Hood has bloody gloves, and has three ninja assassins stalking him.

Red Hood texts back a "can't." but nothing to follow up, not without getting a knife to the neck.

He manages to get back home, toss the spleen back at his brother, and fall into a dead sleep 18 hours later.

When Jason wakes up another 10 hours after that, it's to an abundance of messages from his friends and family. Only one is important.

dannywithawhy: ok.

Jason falls out of bed.)

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[inkandtension]

Tie That Binds.

Minho adjusted his tie for the third time, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions, weren’t they? Celebrations of love, laughter, and promises of forever? Yet, here he was, standing in an impeccably tailored suit, about to marry a woman he barely knew, feeling anything but joyous. His reflection stared back at him, the crease between his brows deepening with every second. The tie felt like a noose.

“Stop sulking, hyung,” came Changbin’s teasing voice from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “You look good. A real scholarly heartthrob.”

Minho shot him a glare that would have silenced most people. Changbin, however, was immune. “I’m not sulking,” Minho muttered under his breath, though even he didn’t believe the words. His fingers tugged at the tie again.

“You’re brooding, then,” Changbin replied cheerfully. “Brooding scholar. It’s a vibe.”

Minho sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. His mind wasn’t in the room; it was too busy turning over the absurdity of his situation. Years spent lecturing on logic, dissecting literature, and championing the idea of individual agency had somehow led him to this moment—a meticulously arranged marriage, orchestrated by his mother and some aunt whose face he couldn’t even remember.

“Can’t back out now,” Changbin added, pushing off the doorframe with a grin. “Unless you want to send all the guests home and deal with your mother’s wrath. And trust me, hyung, I’ll be the first to sell popcorn and watch that drama unfold.”

Minho shot him a flat look but said nothing. Changbin wasn’t wrong. Backing out wasn’t an option, not when the woman he was about to marry came with glowing recommendations. A surgeon, his mother had informed him with a delighted clap of her hands. Accomplished, brilliant, kind, and apparently drop-dead gorgeous. The perfect daughter-in-law material, in other words. His family had done everything short of hanging her résumé on the wall like a trophy.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing his blazer. As he shrugged it on, he couldn’t help but feel like he was stepping into a role he hadn’t auditioned for—a leading man in a play where the script had been written long before he entered the stage.

Y/N’s palms were sweating, and no amount of discreetly dabbing them with the edge of her dress seemed to help. She stood at the altar, her heart pounding in her chest, as the murmur of guests filled the room. Her eyes flitted to the door, waiting for Minho to appear.

For the past week, her life had been a whirlwind of surgeries, late-night meetings with wedding planners, and answering endless texts from her mother. It felt surreal, like she’d been thrown into someone else’s dream wedding—one she hadn’t exactly volunteered for.

“Why am I doing this?” she whispered to her best friend, who stood beside her in a pastel bridesmaid dress, looking far too amused for Y/N’s liking.

“Because your parents threatened to disown you if you didn’t at least try,” her friend whispered back with a barely-contained laugh.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. It was true. Despite all her achievements, she was still that shy little girl seeking her family’s approval. Being a world-class surgeon hadn’t changed that. The wedding might have been their idea, but here she was, going through with it because walking away felt too much like failure.

Her thoughts scattered like confetti the moment the doors opened. Minho stepped in, and everything else seemed to fade into the background. He was tall, lean, and devastatingly handsome. His black hair was styled to perfection, framing his sharp features. His suit hugged him like it had been crafted by someone who understood the definition of precision, and the air of quiet confidence he exuded was enough to make her breath hitch.

Her best friend let out a low whistle, leaning closer. “Okay, I take it back. If you don’t marry him, I might.”

“Shut up,” Y/N hissed.

Married life was... odd, to say the least.

Minho spent his days teaching university students, delving into the intricacies of Shakespeare and Kafka. Y/N spent hers in a hospital, saving lives and dealing with emergencies that left her too drained to care about trivial things like cooking or cleaning.

They had an unspoken routine:

Y/N would come home late, exhausted, and Minho would have dinner waiting for her.

Minho would stay up grading papers while she crashed on the couch, sometimes falling asleep mid-sentence while recounting her day.

They’d exchange polite “good mornings” and “have a nice days,” but deeper conversations were rare.

It wasn’t awkward, per se—just... unfamiliar.

Over the weeks that followed, something shifted.

Minho started texting her during the day, little things like, Don’t skip lunch, or Did you sleep last night?

Y/N found herself bringing home snacks for him, claiming she’d picked them up on a whim, though she’d actually spent way too much time in the store debating which ones he’d like.

They started watching movies together on weekends, bickering over genres. Minho preferred psychological dramas; Y/N loved rom-coms.

“You seriously think this is funny?” Minho groaned one night, watching the lead actor trip over a series of increasingly ridiculous obstacles.

“It’s hilarious,” Y/N shot back, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Minho rolled his eyes but didn’t miss the way her laugh made his chest feel warm.

…

“You know,” Minho said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, “I didn’t think married life would mean sharing my coffee stash with someone who performs literal surgeries before I even wake up.”

You glanced up from the stove, where you were stirring scrambled eggs for the both of you. "I didn’t think it’d mean coming home to someone who alphabetizes their bookshelf and gets irrationally angry when one book is out of place.”

“Touch my books again, and it’ll be war."

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Good morning to you too, husband.”

The word still felt foreign. You’d been married for three months now, after a whirlwind of family introductions and a mutual agreement that, while neither of you believed in love at first sight, you could give companionship a chance. He was a literature professor, calm and composed with a sharp wit, and you were a surgeon, thriving on adrenaline and precision. Two opposites in every sense of the word, now sharing the same roof and calling it home.

“Don’t burn the eggs,” Minho teased as he set the table, placing his usual cup of black coffee at your spot.

“They’re perfect, thank you very much,” you replied, sliding the pan off the burner. “Unlike someone’s last attempt at cooking pasta.”

Minho feigned offense. “Excuse me, my pasta was avant-garde.”

“It was burnt.”

The morning ritual of trading barbs had quickly become your favorite part of this arrangement. Despite the awkwardness of the early days, you’d found a rhythm. You respected each other’s space, cheered each other on, and occasionally stole moments like this—warm and light, like the eggs you plated and brought to the table.

Minho sipped his coffee, glancing at you. “Long shift today?”

“Not too bad. Just six hours,” you said. “You?”

“Grading papers,” he said with a grimace. “Seventy essays on whether The Great Gatsby is a love story or a cautionary tale.”

“Ah, the joys of shaping young minds,” you teased.

Minho shook his head, but his smirk softened. He looked at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“At what? Mocking you?”

“That too,” he admitted, “but I meant… this. Us.”

You froze, caught off guard. He wasn’t usually this candid. “I guess we’re both trying,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“I’d say we’re succeeding,” Minho said, reaching out to steal a bite of your eggs with his fork. “Even if you do insist on putting ketchup on your eggs, like a heathen.”

“Hey!” you laughed, swatting his hand away.

The truth was, Minho had a knack for sneaking past your defenses. Whether it was his quiet attentiveness when you came home exhausted or the way he made sure to send you texts during your long shifts (“Don’t forget to eat. And drink water. And sleep. I’m grading your habits, 2/10 so far”), he was making it harder not to fall for him.

As you cleaned up the dishes together, Minho cleared his throat. “By the way, my department’s hosting a dinner next week. Spouses are invited.”

“Oh,” you said, your heart skipping a beat. “Am I—?”

“You’re coming,” he interrupted, looking at you like it wasn’t even a question. “I need someone to laugh at my jokes when my colleagues inevitably talk about Chaucer.”

You snorted. “You’re assuming your jokes will be funny.”

He leaned closer, his voice low. “I don’t need them to be funny. I just need you there.”

Your breath caught, but Minho had already turned away, heading to his study. “Have a good day at work, Dr. Ketchup.”

“Have fun with Gatsby, Professor Burnt Pasta,” you called after him, hiding your grin.

You stood in the kitchen for a moment, fingers brushing the counter where his hand had been seconds ago. Maybe this marriage wasn’t just about making it work. Maybe, just maybe, it could be something more.

(You couldn’t make it to the party, an emergency surgery happened, you apologised though, his colleagues were a bit too sad when you didn’t make it)

It was supposed to be a peaceful Sunday morning for Minho—his one precious day to lounge in sweatpants, sip coffee, and enjoy the rare luxury of a slow, uneventful routine. He had even entertained the idea of making you breakfast before you left for work, something simple yet thoughtful. But fate, as always, had other plans.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted his rare moment of domestic bliss. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself away from the stove, glancing warily at the pan on low heat. As he shuffled to the door, half-asleep, he wondered who could possibly be bothering him on his sacred day off.

The door creaked open, revealing Felix, one of his students, standing there in all his youthful glory. A textbook was tucked under his arm, his expression bright and hopeful.

“Professor Lee!” Felix greeted, his tone unnaturally chipper for a Sunday.

Minho blinked slowly, still processing the intrusion. “Felix? What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d help with my essay on Sunday,” Felix reminded him, his tone tentative but insistent.

Minho racked his brain, piecing together fragmented memories from office hours. “Right…” he muttered, groaning internally. He vaguely remembered agreeing to it but hadn’t expected Felix, the popular, gossip-loving, poster-child of charm, to actually follow through. “Yeah, come in.”

As Felix stepped inside, his eyes scanned the space with open curiosity. It was his first time seeing his professor’s home, and it wasn’t what he expected. The cozy, lived-in atmosphere seemed at odds with Minho’s perpetually serious demeanor in class. His attention was quickly snagged by a pair of stylish, feminine glasses sitting on the coffee table. Girlfriend? Felix wondered, tilting his head.

Before he could dwell on the thought, the distinct sound of heels clicking against the floor made him freeze. A moment later, you emerged from the hallway, dressed sharply for work. Felix’s eyebrows shot up, his thoughts immediately scrambling for an explanation. You blinked, just as surprised to see someone new in the living room. “Oh,” you said, your tone polite but slightly off-guard. “Hi.”

Felix, now officially overwhelmed, managed to blurt out, “Hello”, he said, before his gaze flickered back to the coffee table, then to you, as he didn’t know how to address you.

No way, he thought, it’s the doctor who came on news for saving a K-pop idol, from almost death.

“Minho!” you called, turning your head toward the kitchen. “Is this one of your students?”

Felix, his curiosity reaching critical levels, edged closer to the source of your voice. Peeking into the kitchen, he found Minho by the stove, a pan in hand. Smoke curled lazily upward, and the sharp scent of burning food filled the air.

“Minho,” you said, stepping into the kitchen with an incredulous laugh, “are you burning food again?”

Minho startled, nearly dropping the pan. “I’m not burning it! I’m… enhancing the flavor,” he argued, his tone defensive.

“Enhancing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Minho, cooking is about creating something edible, not staging a kitchen fire. It’s amazing how often you mix those two up.”

“I was trying to make you something before you left for the hospital,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed but reluctant to admit defeat.

Your playful smile softened at his admission. Gently, you reached over to turn off the stove. “That’s sweet, but maybe stick to teaching literature instead of culinary experiments.”

Felix, lurking just out of sight, stared wide-eyed as you roasted him. The banter, the easy familiarity—it all added up. They’re married?

“Go sit down,” you told Minho, nudging him out of the kitchen. “I’ll make something quick before I leave.”

Minho grumbled under his breath but obeyed, brushing past Felix on his way back to the living room. Felix hurried to take a seat, trying to appear nonchalant, though his mind was racing.

When you passed through the room moments later, coffee in hand, you offered Felix a warm smile. “Nice meeting you. Don’t give him too hard of a time with your questions.”

Felix nodded mutely, watching you leave. The moment the door shut behind you, he turned to Minho, who had returned with two glasses of juice.

“Professor…” Felix began slowly, his voice thick with disbelief. “Is she your wife?”

Minho raised an eyebrow as he sipped his juice. “Yes. Why?”

Felix blinked rapidly, struggling to reconcile this new information. “No reason,” he mumbled, though his expression betrayed his shock.

Moments later, you returned to the hallway, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. Minho met you by the door, leaning casually against the frame.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll try,” you replied, a familiar warmth in your voice. You both knew it was a promise you likely wouldn’t keep.

Felix, still reeling from the day’s revelations, hovered awkwardly nearby. As you stepped outside, he called out suddenly, “Have a good day, Mrs. Lee!”

You froze, the unexpected title catching you off guard. It wasn’t unpleasant—just unfamiliar. Slowly, you turned, offering Felix a polite but flustered smile. “Uh… you too,” you managed before hurrying to your car.

Minho chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched you leave. “Mrs. Lee, huh?” he mused aloud, mostly to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I like the sound of that.”

Felix, now thoroughly overwhelmed, buried his face in his hands. Sundays, he realised, were never as peaceful as they seemed.

Minho shook his head, walking back inside. “Come on, let’s get to your essay before you start narrating this like a drama.”

The next day at school, Felix did exactly that.

Felix leaned forward dramatically, hands splayed wide as he began recounting his Sunday adventure to a growing crowd of curious students in the cafeteria. His voice, filled with excitement, caught the attention of several nearby tables, each eager to hear more.

"Guys, listen up," he said, flashing a grin. "You won’t believe what I saw at Professor Lee’s house yesterday."

A few students glanced at each other, intrigued, as Felix's words hung in the air. He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to keep everyone hanging on his every syllable. "So, I went to his place for some essay help, right? And the first thing I notice when I walk in is this super cozy vibe. You know, soft lighting, a hint of fresh coffee... real domestic bliss. But then—then, I spot these feminine glasses on the table."

Hyunjin, who had been lounging back in his chair, rolled his eyes. "What’s so weird about glasses?" he asked, unimpressed.

Felix raised a finger, signaling that this story was about to take a turn. "Wait for it. So, as I’m trying to figure out who’s glasses they are, out walks this stunning woman. She’s in full professional attire—like, the whole deal. She’s walking like, like a CEO walking into an important meeting. And guess what? She’s his wife. Dr. Y/N. The surgeon."

Hyunjin blinked, his expression shifting from indifference to shock. “His what?” he practically shouted, hands flying to cover his mouth as his eyes widened.

The murmurs of disbelief spread like wildfire among the crowd, each person leaning in a little closer, straining to catch every word.

"You’re making this up," Jisung said skeptically, shaking his head as he crossed his arms.

Felix smirked, leaning back in his seat with an air of triumph. "I’m not! They’re so romantic, it’s almost nauseating. I’m telling you, it’s like one of those cheesy rom-coms. He even tried to cook for her."

"Professor Lee? Cooking?" Hyunjin scoffed loudly, half-laughing in disbelief. "That man lives off convenience store meals. There's no way he was cooking anything decent."

Felix leaned in closer, lowering his voice for effect. The group went quiet, eager to hear the juicy detail. "He burned it," he said, his face full of mock sympathy.

The table erupted in laughter, the absurdity of the image painting a perfect picture in everyone's minds.

"But that’s not even the best part!" Felix exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. "No, no. The best part is how she roasted him. And I mean roasted him. And then, do you know what he said? He said he was trying to make something special for her before she left for work. I mean, come on—imagine that. Your husband burns breakfast out of love for you. Isn’t that just... romantic?"

Jisung couldn’t help himself and muttered, "That doesn’t sound romantic. That sounds tragic."

Felix ignored him, continuing with the fervor of someone who had just witnessed the most entertaining drama. "And the way they bantered? Oh my god, guys, it was like something out of a rom-com. She laughed at him, and he got all offended but secretly pleased—it was like watching this whole love story unfold before my eyes. You would think they had a love marriage, not some arranged one."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued now. "Wait, they’re in an arranged marriage?" he asked, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Felix nodded solemnly, as if he were revealing some deep, hidden truth. "Yeah. But you’d never know. The way they looked at each other, the way they interacted—if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were madly in love."

By now, half the cafeteria was hanging on Felix’s every word, the whole campus’s girls were there(for felix’s charm) of course.

And, as expected, the rumors began to spread like wildfire. What started as Felix’s casual recounting of a Sunday visit quickly turned into a full-fledged mystery. Everyone was dying to know more about Professor Lee’s mysterious wife—and, more importantly, if they could have a glimpse into this romance that Felix had so dramatically described.

…

Minho was halfway through grading essays in the faculty lounge when his colleague, Chan, approached him with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Minho,” Chan started, plopping down in the seat across from him.

“What?” Minho asked without looking up.

“So… I heard some interesting things about you and your wife,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement.

Minho froze, his pen hovering over a student’s paper, Felix’s. “What things?”

“Oh, nothing major,” Chan said, feigning innocence. “Just that you’re apparently head over heels for her, cooking her breakfast and all that. Burnt, of course.”

Minho’s eyes traveled through the paper in his hands and it clicked. “Felix.”

Chan laughed. “So it’s true?”

“Partially,” Minho muttered. “He came over to the house for essay help and caught us in the middle of a normal morning.”

“Normal?” Chan raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, you’re living in a K-drama.”

“Don’t start,” Minho groaned.

Chan grinned, leaning forward. “Come on, though. Is it true you tried to cook for her?”

Minho hesitated before muttering, “I might have… attempted.”

Chan burst out laughing. “Wow, you really are whipped. I didn’t think you had it in you, Minho.”

Minho shot him a glare. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Chan said, smirking. “But, honestly, it’s nice to see you so… happy. You’re usually such a grump.”

Minho rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he picked up his pen and went back to grading(maybe unfairly) , pretending not to notice the smug look on Chan’s face.

As Chan got up to leave, he clapped Minho on the shoulder. “By the way, I think Felix might be your biggest fan now. Watch out, or he’ll start writing a romance novel about you two.”

Minho groaned, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Meanwhile, you were eating lunch with your colleagues, when a message from Minho popped up.

Minho: Felix told half the campus we’re madly in love. You: We’re not? Minho: That’s not the point. You: It’s not a bad rumor to have, Professor Lee. 😉

Minho stared at the screen, shaking his head. Felix might’ve been overly dramatic, but maybe the kid wasn’t entirely wrong.

[vervainandspritz]

HEADCANONS - what would he do to get you in the mood?

Characters: Lenny Miller, Jonathan Crane, Robert Fischer, Jackson Rippner, Raymond Leon, Emmett (TQPII), Tommy Shelby,

A/N: Requested by @lau219 ,y'all feel free to send requests.

~~

Lenny Miller - Leonard is an experienced man, he knows how to get his way around Y/N. Pretty frequently on his way home, he would already have a rough plan on the evening ahead of them. Sometimes grabbing a bouquet of flowers in the nearby florist shop or a bottle of wine. After coming home, Lenny impatiently would find her around the house, searching for any physical contact he could get. "Did you miss me like I missed you?" He'd ask her in that velvety voice, thumbs rubbing up and down on the little crevice of her hips, almost teasing. Sometimes they end up sitting on the couch, Y/N's feet on his lap as she told him all about her day, while Leonard listened and gave her a massage, hands barely visibly moving higher with each stroke. "Poor girl" He liked to tease, closing the proximity once his pants became too tight in a crotch from the simple touches. "Left you all alone here" From that point, he didn't play coy. Knowing all the right spots to touch, he effortlessly kept making her go soft, almost putty in his hands.

~

Jonathan Crane - Jonathan's methods differed depending on the mood he was in. Sometimes days in Arkham were more difficult than the others, and so his patience ran thin. He'd come back home abruptly, peeling the layers of clothing away. The way he'd press his bare, hot chest against Y/N's back, searching closeness he could get only from her. "Was it a bad day?" She would ask, turning around to face him. Sometimes it would all start from the touch as innocent as holding hands, when he'd direct her hand to his cheek, steely blue eyes carefully studying her body covered in the clothes she was wearing. Pulling her closer till their fronts would connect, and she'd feel the proof of his urgency. His own hands landing on her back, massaging the skin and pulling her against his chest while simultaneously hiding his face in her neck. The way she'd feel him so intensely slightly trembling, connected with shivering delightfully from how his hot breath bounced off her skin could come off as symptoms of fear to a mind so great in his very major.

~

Robert Fischer - Robert's favourite way of showing affection would come on display as soon as he made it through the door. He thoroughly enjoyed the ability Y/N taught him - talking. Using words of affection was one of the greatest joys for both of them, after all the time it took for him to get used to doing so. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Missed you so much" He spoke softly into her ear, the vulnerable tone of his voice showing nothing but honesty. Y/N immediately mirrored his mood most of the time, growing warm in his embrace. In a couple swift movements he'd gain access to her skin, caressing it delicately while simultaneously holding her gaze. "I need you" he'd confess quietly, leaning to capture her lips in a kiss so needy, Y/N could barely breathe.

~

Jackson Rippner - Jackson was anything but patient when this urge would hit. It wouldn't matter whether she was busy or not, his hot hands would grasp her hips, often pressing her against something to gain control. Leaning down to graze his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck, taking in the scent that never failed to make him hard. "Jackson, I'm busy" Y/N would sometimes manage to stutter out, feeling the heavy weight of his body against her back. A quiet chuckle would push past his lips, as he pressed harder. "What can possibly be more important than taking care of your man?" His voice would come off arrogant, often purposely. Knowing how well it worked on working her up. His roughed up hands would move higher, barely brushing against her breasts to come resting on her throat, not squeezing just yet. "Feel what you do to me, sweetheart?" He'd growl, nearly on the edge of just... Bending her over the desk and taking what he wanted. Giving her throat a little squeeze, he'd quickly reach between her legs, getting a hold of her. Jackson's lips would stretch into an arrogant grin as he'd feel the wetness beneath her panties. Lightly rubbing against her covered slit, he'd lean closer to whisper. "So wet and needy. I'll give you what you need, but you owe me one, hmm?"

~

Raymond Leon - Raymond wasn't one to ask, not to.. talk too much. He liked to use the advantage of how easily bothered Y/N would get seeing him like that. "What are you doing?" he'd ask like it mattered, leaning on the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His scent and warmth would be enough to make her notice the close proximity, causing Y/N to squeeze her thighs together lightly. Not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze, as he'd keep looking at her, knowing well she could feel him watching. Brushing his arm lightly against hers, he'd move around pretending to be busy before finally having her cornered. She'd be breathing heavily, eyes taking greedily the sight of his bare, freckles skin and muscles on his torso. Sooner or later his hands would end up on her face, pulling her closer. Their noses brushing against each other as he'd smile, looking deeply into her eyes. "What got you so bothered, honey?" Raymond would ask, because even though he hated talking, he secretly loved hearing her talk.

~

Emmett - His favourite thing to get Y/N in the mood would always be kissing. He'd lean in for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle to keep her in place. The deep groans leaving his lips would echo in her stomach, making the heat pool to the lower side of it. "So beautiful" He'd murmur in a deep voice, keeping her lips occupied with his own while slowly touching and grasping every inch of her skin he could get to. "Emmett–" Y/N's whiny voice would never cease to make him lightheaded as he moved lower, kissing a trail they both knew by heart already. "Keep saying it, baby. Keep saying my name" His voice was rougher with lust as he kept her legs apart, kissing her stomach and hips. She had a hard time staying still, squirming needily in his grasp. "Come here.." He cooed, looking her in the eyes as his face moved closer to where she needed him the most. "Let me take care of you" Emmett whispered, as his face leaned down, diving between her legs.

~

Tommy Shelby - Thomas loved the control he secretly held over Y/N when it comes to her needs. Being so fluent in directing them with his touch or affection. The way she'd move around, doing her own thing while pretending to not feel how he looked at her. "Come here, darling" He'd eventually call out, patting his thigh. He'd use the close proximity to look her in the eyes, encouraging to talk about her whereabouts when he was at work, while petting her thighs lightly. He touched and felt, eyes following the tender lines of her body beneath the clothes she wore. He'd proceed to touch caress her cheeks, pulling her closer as he murmured how beautiful she was. Y/N could never remain unaffected under his rough fingers and soft words, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "You're my good girl, aren't you? Always so good for me." He purred, feeling how fast her heartbeat became under the weight of his seductive words. He'd gently rub her inner thighs, before parting her legs and letting his hands claim what was his Swallowing every cry that would come out of her mouth not longer after, as she writhed on his lap in orgasmic spasms.

[silhouetteonpaper]

Benched

Summary: You’re cut from participating in missons for the foreseeable future; the news was delivered by none other than your girlfriend, Natasha. The torturous break from Avenging seems to be unfair... until you hear the other perspective. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 2,393 Warnings/Themes: Angst, fluff, gun use, killing, repressing memories

“I’m sorry?” You weren’t sure if you had heard Natasha’s words correctly; her serious tone didn’t match the saddened look on her face. She was standing across from you as you sat at the empty conference table, summoned only moments ago by the Widow herself.

“We’re benching you from missions until we feel you’re ready.” They didn’t sound any more real this time, either. Natasha, your mentor and girlfriend was telling you to sit the next few missions out. Actually, she was forcing you to sit every mission out for the foreseeable future. You were furious, but tried to keep composed as to not dig a deeper grave.

“Until you feel I’m ready? That’s subjective, how long will it take?” You questioned with crossed arms, your shoulders stuck by your ears out of defense. You’d never been like this around Nat; closed off, defensive, angry. She’d never needed to bar you from missions like this, so it was a first for the both of you.

“We feel your actions on the last mission require some time off.” She explained, noticing the unrelenting confused yet frustrated expression on your face. Natasha felt bad, she was only following the orders of her superiors. They believed that making her relay this information would soften the blow, but as your girlfriend it didn’t make it any easier.  “Look,” She walked around the table, sitting beside you. Her hand found your knee, a soft touch forcing you to unfurl your brows slightly. “This isn’t a punishment. We just want to make sure you’re okay mentally after what happened.”

She was referring to the events of yesterday's mission, something you had hoped would just get buried under the rug. It was supposed to be a simple interrogation; the team would press the target to find some confidential information. The only issue was that the target had a liking for pushing people’s buttons. His jabs were relentless, spitting insults about the people he’d killed like they were nothing.

You were only supposed to hold the gun to his head in a daunting, coercive way. So you did, for a while anyways—until he stated something you didn’t believe was humanly true.

“I don’t regret killing them.” His words had turned your blood to ice, the pointer finger stationed over the trigger shaking out of anger. He was talking about the people he killed to get close to the Avengers. Some of them being your family, the people you loved most. His greedy play was wiping pawns off the table, when in reality they were more than just objects. Natasha was originally reluctant to include you on this mission, due to your emotional connection. But this man had targeted many of the Avenger’s closest relatives, so if she benched you she’d have to bench everyone else.

It turned out she’d have to bench you anyways, as you broke protocol within seconds of his nasty comment. The gun echoed through the cellar you were all stationed in, the man suddenly going quiet as his head lolled to the side. The main source of intel for one of the biggest missions was dead. Everyone’s heads turned toward the responsible weapon; there you were, eyes wide with a smoking gun still held to his head.

After being escorted back to the compound between silent teammates, you locked yourself in your room for the night. Natasha tried to come in, knocking on your bedroom door every so often with tempting offers of cookies or movie nights, but you wouldn’t budge. The next morning, hushed whispers greeted you the second you entered the kitchen. It was obvious they were talking about you, but you couldn’t have cared less. You knew what you did was wrong, and were ready to move on. So, you acted like it didn’t happen.

Maybe that worried the team even more, especially Natasha. You weren’t one to move on from things so quick, especially considering the grudge you held for the man responsible for all that death. Breaking protocol like that and shooting an important hostage was even more out of character, you knew the importance of his intel. Running on impulse, especially in regard to your emotions was unusual, it would be for any trained agent.

But it all caught up with you, and clearly the team discussed a plan of action behind your back. They believed your slip up was more than just a mistake—that there was something deeper behind it. It was slightly offensive, seeing them assume you were emotionally inept that they didn’t even include you in the conversation. You didn’t even think hard enough on what happened to realize maybe they were right; instead you shoved it deep down inside. Now, the truth was facing you head-on, and there was no escaping it.

This isn’t a punishment? You repeated Natasha’s words in your head. It sure felt like one, your favorite thing in life being withheld like a kid getting their iPad taken away. Everyone knew how much your work meant to you, so why would they take away the one thing you loved doing? Besides, you felt fine mentally. The past was in the past, and you were ready to move forward.

“I’m fine, I swear. Please, Nat—don’t take me out of the running just because I made a mistake.” You pleaded, looking to her with a softened expression. The two of you were close, having been in an official relationship for months now. But this was uncharted territory, and the thread connecting you both was slipping as this new side of you was showing. It was her turn to become defensive as she withdrew her hand.

“A mistake? You killed our most important hostage! If you weren’t one of our top agents, Fury would’ve had you fired!” She was right, but you weren’t going to admit that. Instead you huffed, leaning back in your chair as your gaze found anywhere to look but at Natasha.

“I couldn’t let him get away with what he did.” You muttered, shaking your head. Natasha took a deep breath, concern slowly rising across her face. It was easy to see the hurt on your face, even without directly mentioning your family. They were your everything, and he killed them like they were nothing. But two wrongs don’t make a right, every agent knew that. You should’ve known that. And she didn’t want you to jeopardize your job—your passion, over your stubbornness. She leaned toward you slowly, her eyebrows lowering.

“See, this is what scares me. You knew we’d find justice eventually, but you could’t wait and it blew the entire mission.” Natasha spoke carefully, her words making your stomach churn. Scared?Blew the entire mission? Even for her, these were hasty conclusions to draw.

You crossed your arms again. “What are you insinuating?” To say you blew the entire mission was harsh, even if it was true. An agent would never blame another, not directly like this; especially when that agent was your girlfriend. You knew there was more to it, the ice hidden underneath her tone queued you in.

“That now your family will never get the justice they deserve.” Her words are like knives, stabbing straight into your heart. You weren’t sure if she was trying to break you, or if she truly felt this way. That your mistake cost the entire mission, one that was supposed to avenge your dead relatives. Your eyes went wide with shock, expression frozen as you processed the very words that left her lips. They weren’t coming from your girlfriend; the girl you loved would never say such a thing.

Natasha doesn’t flinch, yet unbeknownst to you she was heartbroken on the inside. You both felt like a stranger was standing opposite, your actions and her words causing a rift between the connection that was strong mere days ago. You were impatient, emotional, and couldn’t follow the stupid protocol, and now it may have cost your job and maybe even your girlfriend.

Your eyes narrowed, oozing with betrayal. “You don’t mean that.” Words softer than the hardened expression painting your face, you were almost speechless. Once again, Natasha left you questioning if what she said was actually true, or just a figment of your imagination.

She nodded once, slowly, like a predator bowing its head to prey. You were officially benched, and there was no arguing your way out of it.

—————-

2 weeks, 4 days, 1 hour, and 37 minutes had passed since you were forced to stay within the many walls of the compound. Not like anyone was counting, though. Although spacious and full of various forms of entertainment, the large facility made you feel restless after the first day. You grew bored, itching to get your hands on new cases or even old mission reports.

The quinjet was taunting you. Standing outside the large glass window, calling your name as you sat inside waiting for the go-ahead. But as the hours, days, and weeks passed, it never came. You hadn’t spoken to Natasha since the fight—only exchanging quick glances through narrowed eyes or inconspicuous expressions in passing. Instead, you bothered everyone else about it.

“No, you’re still on temp-leave,” someone would say. “Take some time to relax, focus on yourself.” More voices would eventually join in. It was unrelenting; the only ‘self-care’ you cared about was the one thing that genuinely made you happy: Avenging. But everyone was stuck following orders, keeping you locked inside the compound with your own self to blame.

When everyone left you alone at the compound to go on missions, It gave you time to reflect. You paced the halls replaying the mission over and over, eventually shaking your head as the memory morphed into the shape of your family. You didn’t want to think about them, so you simply filled your time with busywork in order to keep the hurt at bay.

After picking up a few new hobbies, discovering some newfound talents, and recovering old favorite pastimes, you still felt a hole where Avenging used to be. You missed it, and this time off was making you feel worse, if anything. On the 20th day, you built up the courage to talk with Natasha. She was tame the past few days, finally offering you the occasional smile when you made the team dinner, or handing you baked goods when she went on her usual coffee run.

Natasha was sitting in the empty living room, typing on her laptop as she glanced between the screen and some mission reports. “Hey,” you spoke softly, sitting down on the couch opposite of her. Her green eyes popped up, eyebrows lifting ever-so-slightly. You had her attention. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have belittled my actions that hurt other people, it was truly more than just a mistake and I feel terrible about it.” You were speaking truthfully, and Nat could tell; but she wasn’t satisfied.

Shutting her laptop, she stacked her work off to the side with full intrigue. “Tell me, have you thought about your parents during this time off?” She questioned. You swallowed thickly, immediately regretting your half-assed apology when there was more to it than just feeling bad about your actions. You hadn’t thought about your parents, mostly on purpose; and Natasha was hoping to get after exactly that.

“Look, love,” Her tone softened slightly, and the use of the nickname made you feel even the smallest bit more comfortable. She was still yours, and you were still hers, it was all just on hiatus for the moment—like your job. “This break wasn’t supposed to be time for you to feel bad about what you did. It was time for you to process what happened.” Natasha stood, moving to sit next to you as her words made the air catch in your lungs.

“You can’t change the fact your family has passed, and I need you to have a chance to grieve before we send you back onto the field.” To an average person, everything she was saying made sense. But the issue was, you didn’t want to pause and take the time to process what happened. You wanted to swallow it all and move on to whatever job would come next. But Natasha knew the dangers of that.

You took a deep breath, your gaze finding the floor. “I told you, Nat. I’m fine to go out onto the field. I’ve thought over everything and I feel ready.” You countered, eyes meeting hers as you really tried to convince her. She found your hand, gripping it tightly with both of hers.

“Then tell me exactly what he did to your parents.” Her words hit your chest like a boulder, all of the air you once had no longer existing as your breathing stopped. It was a test, and she knew you wouldn’t be able to answer without breaking down. And fortunately for her, it worked. Tears welled in your eyes, the flood of emotion hitting the wall you built in an attempt to avoid it. But it wasn’t strong enough this time, Natasha knew all the right buttons to push. You gave in, allowing each tear, each sob, to have a chance to see the light as you leaned into Natasha.

“That’s it.” She cooed, pulling you close into her shoulder. Her hands ran through your hair, offering a comforting touch you desperately missed. The person she loved dearly was slowly coming back, the agent who wasn’t just a stone-cold face ready to suppress all emotion in the name of work. Being an Avenger wasn’t just about being brave for others, it was about being your best self so you were capable of offering that support on the field. The entire time, you missed the true meaning of the hiatus.

But now, you were back on track. Natasha was glad to see you finally start the long road to processing your grief, and she’d be there the entire journey. You were grateful to have her, and suddenly even more grateful she gave you the time off in the first place. If you weren’t so naive and stubborn, maybe it would have been easier for you in the long run. But that didn’t matter, because with Natasha, time felt like it didn’t exist.

[justmeinadaze]

Nothings Gonna Change My World (Steddie X You)(Serial Killers Universe)

Warnings: Experimentees Steddie & Y/N, In alternate Universe ( Serial Killers Steddie & Victim Stalked Fem Y/N), SMUT, roleplay (CNC I guess?), knife play (light, no cutting), sub/dom dynamics, bondage, degrading (whore, little girl, "you wanted this."), slapping, choking, hair pulling, semi public (in the woods), mentions of after care afterwards (of course).

ANGST (obviously), in the current universe Y/N is still struggling with her feelings of the last chapter, the doctor does find out the truth they've been hiding.

In the alternative universe, Steddie are killers, there's no details of them killing anyone but blood is mentioned, they do tie her to a chair and degrade her, they let her go to chase her, mentions of her feelings afraid and talking about the glimpses on instability in their eyes. Mentions of murders and the towns general fear. Readers alcoholism is mentioned. In this universe it's mentioned that the reader was in jail at one point.

Word Count: 5230

Series here/Donate

“Why didn’t you say anything?”, the doctor growls in frustration as he leans against his desk in front of you and the guys with his arms folded. 

“We were afraid of getting removed from the experiment.”, Steve answered as your head continued to hang. 

It had been a week since you saw Kallie in the other universe and the doctor had you three monitored on bed rest the entire time. You had nightmares of what happened, waking up screaming with either Eddie or Steve there to comfort you. 

You were mentally exhausted and the one person you wanted to talk to was no longer available in your current universe. 

“Why would you think that? If anything, I’m even more curious now.”, the doctor sighs. “You said you three have never met each other until the start of this?”

“Um, Steve and I went to school together but we never really spoke or spent time together. He was an asshole.”

At Eddie’s words, the other man’s lips pursed as his jaw clenched knowing it was true. 

“But not you, Y/N? You don’t know either of these men outside of here?”

“No, she didn’t.”, Steve answer for you when you didn’t respond. 

“Hm. I’d like to test something if you’re three up for it? Last week, the group went to a universe that frightened the bulk of our experimenters. In this particular universe, they mentioned the world being terrified over a couple of serial killers. I’d like you three to try it and see where you land.”

“Why?”, Eddie asks. 

“Because…some people mentioned broadcasts on the tv in the background whatever was happening while they were there. Suspects were two men…

“I still don’t understand why you want us to experience that if it was traumatizing for the others.”, Steve replied to the doctor.

“If you three run into each other in every universe…selfishly…I’m kind of curious how Y/N plays a part in a dynamic like that.”

“Well, fuck that. We aren’t you living dolls that you can fuck around with—”

“Technically Mr. Harrington, you are since you signed up for this experiment. Now, you don’t have to do this. I was just suggesting as a scientist—”

“I’ll do it.”, you interrupt causing all heads to turn your way. “When do we start?”

“Um, we can hook you up in 30min, if you’re sure—”

“I’m sure.”

And with that, you get up from your seat and exit the office. 

***

“Y/N, wait. Hang on, God damn it!”, Steve grunts in frustration as he runs after you and grabs your arm that you angrily pull away. “Why are you so eager to do this?”

“Because I want to feel something other than what I’m feeling right now.”

“So you want to feel like a victim?” At Eddie’s comment, you glare his way. “If we are what he believes in this universe and we always run into you in every universe than we’re most likely going to be trying to kill you if we haven’t already.”

“Hm, I can’t wait.”, you sass before the other boy tugs on your bicep. “Jesus Christ! You are not my father or my fucking boyfriend. Boyfriendsssss.”, you growl as you shove them way from you. “I don’t need you to take care of me or tell me what to fucking do. Now stay the hell away from me!”

“You’re so fucking stubborn you know that!”, Steve shouts as he fully lets you go. “Even in this universe you tell us that you love us but then pull shit like this! It’s fucking exhausting, Y/N!”

“Good! Then maybe you’ll fucking listen to me this time and stay away!”

***

As the nurse guides you into this new room, you can’t help but be a little intimidated at the new placement of the pods and machines in the middle of the room. 

Three vessels were placed in a circle with all of your heads facing in the same direction with a camera dangling from the ceiling above. Unlike previously, it seems the doctor was pulling out all the extra stops to gather as much information as he could with what he had available. 

With how they reacted before you were under the impression, you would be doing this session by yourself so when both men stomped in and sat in their respective places you were surprised. 

“Ok guys, everything is still the same. Four hours under and you can’t interact, just observe.”, the doctor relayed as he glanced over you nervously. “We’re monitoring your vitals so if it gets too intense and you react like last time—”

“This won’t be like last time.”, you interject before he nods at the nurses standing off to the side to take over.

“I love you, Y/N.”, Eddie mumbles as the three of you lay back in your pod. “I’m not sure if we’ve said it back to you but I do. I don’t know what’s going to happen when we go under but no matter what…in this universe, sweetheart…I love you.”

“I love you to.”, Steve adds. “Your right…we may not know much about you here but we do know that you are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. We may not be the best men but…”

“We’re the best men for you.”, the metalhead finishes when he pauses.

“Yeah…”

Before you can reply, the nurses split up between you three to place the goggles over your head and administer your calming agent.

“Alright, sweetie, here we go. Dropping in, in 3, 2, 1…”

###############

“Everything’s going to be alright, babe. Fuck our father.”

You smile as your thumb grazes over your phone as you reread the text your sister sent. Today was supposed to be a big day for you. You had worked so hard to get the promotion at your firm but with one phone call from your dad it was all taken away. 

“Whisky. Neat.”

If it wasn’t for the incredibly strong smell of cologne you probably wouldn’t have even noticed the gorgeous man beside you as he absently dug into his suit pocket and threw some bills on the counter. 

When his eyes met yours, he smiled wide as your own eyes nervously looked away. 

“If I may, ma’am, you are extremely beautiful.”, he complimented making you blush as you ducked your head. “Oh, come on, honey, I don’t bite. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”, you mumble shyly as you extend your hand that he promptly takes into his own. 

“Well, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you. May I ask why you’re sitting here all by yourself staring at a shot glass?”

“I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”

“Hm…and your boyfriend lets you drink alone on Friday nights?”

“I’m not…not drinking…just…” Again, your gaze shifts and this time he follows it as he takes a seat beside you. 

“Just what, Y/N?”, he asks softly but you detect a hint of annoyance.

“I had a bad day.”, you whisper. “My boss, Angelique Dyer—”

“Pfft, I know that bitch.”, the man sighs as he takes a sip of the drink he was given. “I’m sorry, baby, please continue.”

“She skipped over me for a promotion and I worked so hard for it to. I worked so many late nights and did everything she asked.”

“But…”

“She did a background check on me and called my father. I, um, I was in jail a few years ago. Not for long but…”

“For?”

You sighed knowing the information would most likely scare him away; it always did with people you met. Your boyfriend was the only person to ever really see you as you and not judge you for your past. 

“Y/N.”, the man coos softly as his thumb caresses your hand that you didn’t realize was still in his grasp. “You can tell me anything. It’s not my place to judge. I would know; I’m a lawyer.”

While you giggle at his joke, with his free hand he reaches into his pocket and hands you his card. 

Steven Harrington

“Steven…”, you grin making him softly smile back. 

“You can call me Steve.”

Blinking up at his kind features, you exhale your nerves as you tell him the truth. 

“I was arrested for public intoxication and assault. My sister and I were having a bit too much fun and she took away my keys so I wouldn’t drive. Her boyfriend got mad saying she was ‘babying’ me and grabbed her arm so…I punched him.”

“Sounds like a fucking asshole.”

“Yeah… Anyway, I had been in trouble before and my father wanted to teach me a lesson so…”, you shrug. 

“How did you get hired if that was on your record? I mean I would figure if it’s enough to not promote you than why bother right?”

“I, uh, I probably shouldn’t tell you.”, you giggle as you reach for the shot glass and bring it to your lips. 

Before you can taste anything however he places his large palm over the top and guides it away from your mouth. 

“You can tell me anything, pretty girl.”, he replies in a sultry voice that has you blushing again.

“My boyfriend works for IT and he’s so smart with computers but people never take him seriously. He, um, did a thing that hid my record.”

“I see.”, Steve retorts as his lips form into a thin line as he grabs the shot from your fingers and chugs it back. “My friend and I may be able to help you. He works at my firm with me doing research and stuff so he’s really good with technology himself. At most maybe we can help find you a loophole or something.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you finally gather your faculties enough to pull your hand from his grasp. 

“Why? Why would you want to help me?”

The lawyer’s head tilts to the side while his beautiful eyes glisten as they scan you over from head to toe. 

“Because nice, pretty girls like you deserve to be happy.”

Absorbing his words, your own irises take him in before fleeting to the tv above the bar behind him begging people to take extra caution while out especially at night. Another body had been found in the lake nearby in the same manner as the other victims believing it to be committed by the two serial killers at large. 

As your eyes meet his again, you can’t help but feel safe with this man you had just met. 

“Ok.”, you squeak eliciting an enormous grin to twitch across his face that would make the devil himself blush. 

“Good. My car is out back here. I couldn’t get a parking spot near the bar.”

After paying for your beverage, Steve takes your hand in his and you allow him to guide you down the street to a parking lot that seemed completely abandoned. 

“Steve, you should be careful parking in a lot like this. Someone could hurt you and no one would know.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Before you could respond, arms roughly grabbed you from behind and covered your mouth as you were aggressively pulled into the backseat of his car. 

***

Your wide eyes watched Steve as he casually sauntered past you as if you weren’t even there. 

His friend, who had just spent the last thirty minutes dragging you into their house and bound you to the chair you were currently in, kept his intense chocolate eyes zeroed in on you. A small smirk painted on his lips while he absently twirled the handle of a knife against the counter. You noticed immediately that his clothes and parts of his hands were stained red frightening you even more as you pulled at your restraints. 

“How did it go?”

“Smooth. She was shocked to say the least but definitely didn’t see me comin’.”, the long-haired man answered. “She didn’t scream or make any noise. Hopefully this one is different.”

The wink he tossed your way made you shutter but you didn’t want them to think you were weak. You had fought so many people in your lifetime in every sense of the word and if tonight was your last night, you were going to go down swinging.

“Where is she now?”

“Trunk. I thought maybe after we could go to the lake on the opposite side of town. Kill two birds with one stone so to speak.”

Steve’s amber eyes flicked your way before shifting to the floor and nodding as he slid off his suit jacket, throwing it aside. 

“I genuinely am sorry for this, Y/N.”, he sighs as he walks towards you, bringing one of the table chairs with him, and placing it in front of you, crossing his legs as he rolls up his sleeves. “I know you had a bad day but you chose this.”

His friend behind him snickered when your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 

“You were at that bar all alone even though there’s a killer out there.”

“KillerSSSS.”

“Dressed in that short skirt that shows off those beautiful legs practically begging to be touched.”, he sighed, licking his lips as he watched you squirm in your seat. “You said you had a boyfriend yet you engaged in conversation AND left with me. Were you even going to tell him you were with me? Did he even know you were there?”

Gradually leaning forward, Steve removed the tape from your mouth and waited for an answer. 

“You said you were going to help me… I-I trusted you.”

Blinking, his lips pouted out as his jaw clenched before tilting his head towards the other man and gesturing towards you.

“I don’t think I’ve introduced you to my friend here. This is Eddie.”

While being introduced, the metalhead casually stalks your way, giving you a small wave with his fingers before blindsiding you with a rough smack to your face.

“Every time you don’t answer one of my questions, Y/N, Eddie here is going to hurt you. Am I being clear? Say ‘Yes, Sir.’”

Taking too long for his liking, Steve curtly nods and the other man hits you again. 

“YES, SIR!”

The knife Eddie had been fiddling with clinks through the air as it lightly taps the chair and the sharpness of the end grazes your cheek threateningly. 

“This will go a lot smoother for everyone if you get rid of the attitude, sweetheart. Or, if you prefer, we can end it all right here right now.”, he whispers menacingly into your ear sending goosebumps down your spine. 

“Yes, Sir.”, you respond again with less force, seemingly satisfying them both. 

Steve leans forward, balancing his knees on his elbows while his friend smirks and positions himself behind you to play with your hair; the action oddly calming considering the circumstance. 

“Were you going to tell your boyfriend where you were going?”

“N-No, Sir.”

“Why?”

“He…he wouldn’t like it. M-M-Me—”

“Leaving a bar with another man. Hm. Most men wouldn’t.”

“I’m sorry.”, you murmur as your head hangs. 

“Are you?”, Steve asks causing your head to snap back up so your eyes could glare at him. “Even though you know it was wrong, you still left with me…still talked to me…still let me hold your hand. The entire time you’ve been tied to this chair, I’ve watched you rub your thighs together anytime me or my friend are near you. You like this don’t you?”

After a rough tug of your hair, you answer. 

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

The lawyer smirks as he slides to the floor, his dark, gorgeous eyes locked on yours as his palms grip your knees and opens your legs wide to reveal your silky panties under your skirt. 

“You like being a bad girl, don’t you, Y/N?”

This time, when you take too long to answer, Steve’s palm wraps around your throat and touches his nose to yours. 

“Don’t deny or try to hide it. I can fucking smell how wet you are. Answer my fucking question.”

You heard it in his tone; the desperation slipping out under the darkness. Now was your chance to try and get the upper hand.

“Is this what you need, Mr. Harrington? Is this how you get girls to submit? Fucking pathetic.” You’re barely able to let out your sarcastic laugh before Eddie yanks on your hair again and holds the knife to your throat just above his friend’s hand. 

“You show us fucking respect, little girl.”

“Respect for what?! The fact that you can’t get a woman in your house without taking her and tying her to a chair? You’re weak!”

The annoyance in his eyes change to amused as he rises to his feet and pushes Eddie to the side as he takes the knife to free you from your binds. 

“You’re absolutely right, honey, and quite frankly, my friend and I DO enjoy the chase. It’s been a while since a woman didn’t just willingly succumb to my charms.”

“Ok, calm down, Steven.”, Eddie teases as he grabs your bicep and aggressively lifts you from your chair, shoving you away from them. 

“We’ll give you a thirty second head start. The front door behind us is locked and we aren’t opening it. You could hide in the house and call for help but you don’t have a phone and we don’t have a landline so I don’t see how much helpful that would be. Out back there past the forest is a couple of our neighbors but the closest one is about a three-mile walk so you’d have be quick.”

“A-Are you serious?”, you ask as you begin to slowly back away from them. 

“If you succeed in escaping, then I promise we’ll leave you be. If we catch you…”

“You’re ours.”, the metalhead grins wide displaying all of his teeth. “Better run fast.”

Tilting his watch, Steve’s eyes never leave the gold around his wrist. 

“Go.”

Your terrified eyes flick between them trying to figure out if this is a trick but you barely have time to think as Eddie stomps his boot forward as if he’s about to give chase causing you to run out the back door past the pool and into the woods. 

After exactly thirty seconds, Steve taps his friend’s shoulder causing him to sprint towards the direction they saw you disappear in while the man himself slowly followed behind. 

***

You figured if you were going to survive this, the woods would be your best bet. An open space that you could run around should they stumble upon you as well as being able to hide behind a tree with the darkness of night to cloak you. 

You half expected them to taunt you in some way, calling your name or mocking you. A part of you hoped for it so you knew exactly where they were. Every little sound caused you to jump and hide before realizing it was your own shoes. 

“Not fast enough, princess.”, Eddie singed, suddenly appearing beside you and wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“Let me go!”, you shout as try to elbow him in the stomach to no avail. 

“Didn’t get very far, did you?”, he growled as his grip never faltered. “We could have done this inside but you wanted to do this the hard way.”

As he held you to him, your body folded into his and you could feel the large bulge in his jeans pressing against your ass. 

“You feel that, sweetheart? My cock is so hard just from hunting for you. I kept thinking about what we were going to do after we caught you.” With one arm firmly holding you in place, he utilized his other to lift your skirt and sloppily pull down your panties just enough to spank your behind before sliding his long, thick fingers into your pussy. “Fuck, baby, you were thinking about it to, weren’t you, dirty girl?”

You couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your lips as he pumped his digits deep inside of you hitting that spongy spot inside of you no one else had reached. 

“I told you, honey, you like this.”, Steve chuckled as he appeared out of the dark and sauntered towards you. “You like being a bad girl and being used by us.”

“Fuck, Steve, I can’t wait any longer.”, Eddie whined as you listened to him fumble with his belt. “Bend. I said fucking bend!”, he scolded as his palm pushed on your upper back, bending you in half. He wasn’t gentle by any means as he guided himself inside you, bottoming out quickly and eliciting a loud gasp as he stretched you out. 

“Say it.”, the lawyer commanded calmly as he watched your face contort in pleasure while his friend thrust his hips at a vigorous pace. “You know what I want to hear.”

“I…I’m a bad girl…fuck…”

Ring laced fingers took hold of your shirt, tearing it enough to expose your bra before Eddie moved it to grasp your breast and pull your hair with his other hand. 

“And?”

“I…please…”

Folding over you, the long-haired man’s breath warmed your ear as he growled, “You want to cum, you answer him.”

“I like being used by you!”, you rushed out verbally. “Please, Sir. Pleeeeease.”

Panting against your shoulder, Eddie pumped and rolled his hips till you felt the ball drop in your belly. Hastily covering your mouth to muffle your screams, he chased his high till he grunted and pounded his release into your cunt. 

“That’s it, you little whore. You take my cum and say thank you.”

“T-Thank…Thank you—nah!”, you whimper as he pulls out and pushes you to the dirt. 

Steve sinks to his knees and you immediately sit up but before you can adjust yourself, his stern eyes give you pause.

“Come here.”, he beckons. Doing as he commands, you place yourself in front of him looking up at him with those big, innocent eyes he loves. “Take my cock out.”

Without breaking eye contact, you reach forward and undo his belt, relishing in the slight increase of his breathing when your hand takes hold of his length to remove it from its confinement. 

“That’s it. Keep your eyes on me while you stroke it.” Utilize the beads of precum leaking from his slit, you ran your palm up and down as he licked his lips followed by a pleasure filled sigh. “Tell me you want me.”, he whispered, almost sounding vulnerable as you felt your heart break. 

“I want you.”, you murmur as your hand moves at a faster pace. 

The look in his eyes shifted like it had before to that desperation that seemed more frightening than the darkness that had been on display. Placing his palms beside you, he walked you back till you were pressed against the dirt with him hovering over you. 

“You want me? Put my cock inside that tight little pussy.” Steve’s tone was now rough, no longer carrying the light but sinister charm he showed you before. “I’m tired of fucking repeating myself, little girl. If you want to make it through tonight you better fucking listen.”

To emphasis his point, Eddie balanced on his heels beside your head and ran the dull side of the blade along your chest. 

The lawyer’s eye lids fluttered when you guided him inside you, your hips slightly rolling to take him as far as you could. Pinning your wrists above your head, he took over and delivered a hard thrust that punched the air from your lungs. 

“Ah!”, you moan, biting your lip when he does it again. “Fuck.”

“You love the way my dick feels, don’t you?”

“Mmm—Yes, Sir.”

“You love being fucked like this don’t you, dirty girl?”

“Na—ah! Yes!”, you whimper as he slams into you again, now finding a steady rhythm as his cock repeatedly and violently hits your g-spot. 

“I’ll send you back to your fucking boyfriend throbbing and sore. Shit. Fucking filled to the brim with our cum leaking out of you.”

 One of Steve’s massive hands released you to squeeze your breast and as his open mouth hovered above yours you couldn’t help but kiss them. Panting, his forehead fell against your neck as he held your lower back closer to him, thrusting into you deeply as he searched for your highs. 

Yours hit you like a freight train as your back arched and like his friend he covered your mouth to muffle the loud scream that rippled through you. Collapsing on top of you, the man pumped his length into you with rough abandon till you felt his rhythm falter and he exhaled a strained grunt as he coated your walls with his release. 

After a few moments, your giggle filled his ears and Steve pushed up on his elbows to look down at your smiling, blissed out features. 

“What are you laughin’ at?”, he asks in a more lighthearted tone. 

“You.”, you beam as you poke his nose with your index. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as his fingers pet your hair from his place above you as he looks down at you with concerned eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m ok, baby.”

“Good.”, he grins as his friend gradually pulls out and rises to his feet while the metalhead helps you to yours. Taking in your demeanor, he gently pulls up your panties and places his jacket around your shoulders. “You did really good, pretty girl.”

“How far did I get?”

“Um, in thirty seconds? A few yards.”, Steve guess as he gestures towards the house where you can vaguely see the lights still illuminating from the windows. “To be fair, I think with the adrenaline of the night and everything, Eddie practically flew after you so…”

The three of you laugh as the long-haired boy lifts you into his arms and carries you the rest of the way to your shared home. 

***

After a long bath and some good careful aftercare, you watch the men you love with smitten eyes even as they push your boss’s body off the boat and into the water below. 

“Done and done. You said a lot of people saw her at the bar, right?”

“Yeah, they did and definitely the bartender which speaking of.” Steve pauses as both men turn to face you. “Why did you have a shot in front of you when I got there?”

Blinking, you shrug as you take a seat on the edge of the bow with Eddie sitting beside you as he wraps his arm around you 

“Y/N, honey, you promised me the day I took on your case that you were never going to drink again and remain sober.”

“I know. I know, Steve. I swear I didn’t drink anything either.”

“You were about to—”

“Today was rough.”

“That’s no excuse—”

“Steven, get off her back, yeah?”, the metalhead cut in before resting his chin on your shoulder. “I feel like this is partially my fault. I should have expected them to upgrade their system after I hacked in there the last time. I’m sorry, baby.”

“No, no.”, you reply as you turn to cup his cheeks. “None of this is your fault. Either of yours… I appreciate you trying and doing all this for me.”, you gesture absently around you. “I know you both like to take your time when it comes to the people you kill.”

“Yeah but this was for you, sweetheart. Everything’s easy with you.”, Eddie murmurs as he kisses your cheek. “If you wanted us to take care of your dad we would.”

“No…plus that would be too risky. You guys could get caught or Kallie could get in trouble since she works for him.” Your gaze shifts from his to Steve’s whose eyes are scanning you over intensely. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you three.”

Kneeling in front of you, the lawyer takes your hands in his and kisses the back of them. 

“Nothing’s ever going to happen to us, honey, I promise.”

Tilting down, you take hold of his chin and kiss his lips before doing the same with Eddie. 

“I want you. I want you so bad.”, the metalhead lightly sings making you and his friend laugh as the memory of the night you were first intimate with them while that song played in the background flashed through your head. 

“I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad. It’s driving me…”, you sing back as your forehead presses to his, continuing to giggle as he pretends to play the guitar. 

Extending his hand towards you, you take it and allow Steve to lead you inside the boat with Eddie close behind as you gasp at the table set with roses, candles, and your favorite meal. 

“We know that playing the way we do helps clear your mind after a bad day but we also wanted to show you how much we appreciate and love you like normal men do.”

“Mr. Harrington, when have we ever been normal?”, you tease.

The three of you smile as Eddie lifts you off your feet, wrapping his arms around you to guide you to a chair so you could eat.

#####################

“There we are, sweetie. Please don’t run off.”, the nurse coos, slightly surprised when you do what she asks. “How are you feeling?”

You don’t know why but you suddenly feel the need to laugh.

Your cackle ripples through you and after a few seconds it’s followed by both boy’s deep chuckles as well. 

“Huh. Fascinating.”, the doctor muses as he watches the display. “What happened?”

“Can we talk about it later?”

Without even waiting for an answer, you remove all the devices attached to you and head down the hallway to your room where both men trail after. 

“You protect me…in every universe…and that scares me but…”, you pause as your eyes shift through the air searching for the right words. “I just realized that you both put so much faith in me…even after everything you went through. Even in that universe I felt how that Steve needed to feel wanted because of everyone that abandoned him and how that Eddie desperately needed to feel in control especially with death because of the people you lost.

I think the reason you do that so willingly is because in every universe, you have each other. You…help make my life better…you make me happy. It’s been so long since I’ve been happy…even before Kallie died.”

“What are you trying to say, sweetheart?”

Silently, you stride Eddie’s way, cupping his cheeks as you jump into his arms and passionately kiss his lips. His limbs circle tightly around you as he lifts you off your feet for a brief moment before placing you back down. 

“I’m saying I want to try being more open with you two if you’ll let me.”

The metalhead lets you go and Steve lifts you up again, wrapping your legs around his waist as he softly kisses you. 

“Of course. We can take things slow, baby.”

You allow him to carry you to the bed behind you where both men lay on either side of you, tenderly kissing any part of your body they can reach as your arms and legs tangle together. 

################

@baileebear @jasminelafleur @twirls827 @dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @starboygf @alba8688 @crybabyddl @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @utterlyinsanity @hardladyheart @yesimabratandwhataboutot @chelebelletx @season4steve @fic-lover-29 @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @cherryc1nnam0n

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky and reader are FWB because bucky is scared to commit and reader has feelings for bucky but doesn't tell him so reader finds other ways to push them feelings away and because reader isn't really talking to bucky he steals readers phone to catch readers attention and the phone pings and a message from john walker comes through and bucky clicks on it and sees the pictures of reader in a lingerie set he gets jealous and asks her why she is sending those pictures to John walker and reader replies why you jealous? Not like I'm yours and bucky pins reader to the wall and says "doll you're mine" gives reader the best night of her life and in the morning deletes John's number from her phone

Yours, Only

Bucky x Y/N

Warnings: smut. Unprotected p in v sex. Slight angst.

The tension in the air between Bucky Barnes and Y/N had become a living, breathing thing. It was the kind of dynamic that friends didn’t typically have—heated stares, lingering touches, and shared nights where boundaries blurred. Friends with benefits, they called it, but to Y/N, it felt like so much more. To Bucky, however, it seemed to be just enough.

It had been fine at first, thrilling even. But the more time they spent together, the more her heart yearned for something more substantial. The way he made her laugh with his dry humor, the quiet moments they shared after their escapades—those were the moments Y/N cherished the most.

But Bucky was a man weighed down by his past, and commitment wasn’t something he thought he could offer. So Y/N bottled her feelings, afraid of losing him entirely. The problem was, bottling up emotions had its consequences.

🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇

Recently, Y/N had been pulling back. She still showed up for missions, worked alongside the team, and exchanged casual conversations with Bucky. But the teasing texts had slowed, the playful touches became distant, and their "arrangements" ceased altogether. Bucky noticed.

It started as a gnawing irritation that grew with each day she kept him at arm’s length. He tried to play it cool—he wasn’t her boyfriend, after all—but he couldn’t stop the pang of frustration when he caught her smiling at someone else or, worse, leaving the room the second he entered.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked one night when they crossed paths in the common room.

“Nothing, Barnes,” she replied coolly, not even glancing up from her phone. The way she called him "Barnes" stung more than it should have.

His blue eyes narrowed, but he didn’t push her. Instead, he let her retreat—again.

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

Bucky was never one to snoop, but desperate times called for desperate measures. When Y/N left her phone on the table after a team briefing, he made his move. Sam had stepped out to grab lunch, Steve was busy with paperwork, and Natasha had raised an eyebrow but let him be.

Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open to the lock screen. A swipe revealed no password, a fact that made him smirk. "Careless," he muttered under his breath.

A soft chime pinged from the phone. Glancing down, his smirk faltered. A message from John Walker flashed across the screen, accompanied by a photo preview that made his jaw tighten.

Y/N, in a lingerie set, her curves accentuated perfectly by the sheer material. It was undeniably alluring—and it sent a surge of possessive anger through him. The scarlet lingerie a fiery halo around her form. The plunge of the bra, a daring invitation, reveals the swells of her breasts, their softness seemingly begging to be touched. The fabric clings to her body like a second skin, tracing the contours of her waist and hips in a sensual dance of shadow and light. Her legs, elegantly placed, stretch out before her, the garter belt a playful accent that speaks to the promise of what lies beneath the matching thong. Her stockings, sheer and whisper-thin, are held up by those garters, hinting at the act of peeling them away layer by layer.

Bucky clicked on the message without hesitation.

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠

When Y/N came looking for her phone an hour later, Bucky was waiting in the training room, leaning against the wall with an expression she couldn’t quite read.

“Have you seen my phone?” she asked, scanning the area.

He held it up between his fingers, his grip firm. “Looking for this?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, reaching for it. But Bucky didn’t let go. Instead, he tilted his head and fixed her with a sharp gaze.

“Mind telling me why Walker has pictures of you like this?” he growled, flipping the phone to show her the image.

Y/N froze, her cheeks flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “You went through my phone?”

“You left it unlocked,” he shot back. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Why do you care, Barnes?” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively. “It’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” His voice lowered dangerously. “You think I’m just going to let this slide?”

Y/N’s chest tightened as anger flared within her. “Let what slide? It’s not like I’m yours, Bucky.”

The words hit their mark, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and unguarded. Then, faster than she could react, he closed the distance between them, pinning her against the wall.

“Doll,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“You’ve always been mine.”

His declaration left her breathless, her heart hammering against her ribs. She searched his face for any sign that he was joking, but all she found was unwavering certainty.

“Bucky,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

smut————smut———smut———smut————-smut————smut

He didn’t let her finish. His lips captured hers with a fervor that left no room for doubt. The pent-up tension between them exploded in a kiss that was both demanding and tender, a mix of frustration and longing.

Their bodies pressed together as if trying to erase the space that had grown between them. His hands slid to her hips, gripping her tightly, while hers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss grew more intense with each passing second, their tongues dancing a passionate ballet of desire. Y/N could feel the warmth of his breath, tasting the mint on his lips.

Breaking the kiss, Bucky searched her eyes. “I can’t keep pretending this isn’t more, Y/N. It’s killing me.”

Her eyes searched his, a silent question hanging in the air. Was this a confession? Or a declaration of his own feelings? She didn’t know, but she felt something shift inside her—a hope she’d been too scared to acknowledge.

“What do you want from me, Bucky?” she asked, her voice trembling.

He took a deep, ragged breath. “Everything,” he whispered, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “But I don’t know if I deserve it.”

The honesty in his voice broke down the final barriers she’d built around her heart. Tears welled in her eyes as she placed a hand over his, holding it in place. “You do. More than you know.”

With a growl of need, Bucky’s hands moved to her ass, lifting her so that she was forced to wrap her legs around his waist. He grinded into her, the friction between them setting her nerves alight. Y/N gasped, her core clenching at the delicious pressure. She’d missed this, missed him, missed the way he made her feel—like she was the most important person in the world to him.

“Prove you want it,” she challenged, her voice thick with desire.

Bucky didn’t waste any time. He carried her out of the training room and down the hallway, ignoring the surprised looks from passing agents. His movements were swift, yet gentle, driven by an urgency that matched the pounding of his heart.

Reaching her apartment, he kicked the door open, setting her down just long enough to lock it behind them. Then, without breaking their heated gaze, he scooped her up again, walking her backwards until the backs of her legs hit the bed.

He laid her down, his body hovering above hers. The weight of his gaze was heavy, filled with a hunger that made her pulse race. Y/N could feel his erection pressing against her through their clothes, a silent testament to his need for her. She reached for his belt, but Bucky stopped her, his hand capturing hers.

“Let me,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving hers as he unbuttoned her shirt. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if savoring every inch of skin revealed. He pushed the fabric aside, exposing her bra-covered breasts to the cool air. His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared, his pupils dilated with desire.

With a gentle tug, he removed her bra, revealing her hardened nipples to his view. He leaned down, brushing his lips against them, and she arched her back with a moan. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through her, making her ache for more. Bucky’s touch was reverent, almost as if he were afraid she’d vanish if he applied too much pressure.

Her hands found his shoulders, urging him closer. The fabric of his shirt was rough against her palms as she slid them down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath. His skin was warm to the touch, and she craved the feel of him against her, bare and unyielding.

With a sudden surge of strength, she flipped their positions, straddling him. Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of protest. Finding none, she began to kiss him again, her hands moving to unbuckle his belt. Bucky’s breath hitched, and he wrapped his arms around her, his hands sliding up her back, urging her closer.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room. His shirt was next, tossed aside with a growl. His skin was a canvas of scars and muscles, a testament to the battles he’d survived. Y/N kissed each one, her mouth tracing the path of his pain. His chest heaved under her touch, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Take me, Bucky,” she whispered, her voice thick with need.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands found the hem of her pants, and with a swift move, he had her bare before him. The heat in his gaze was almost tangible as he took in the sight of her, his eyes darkening with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his voice hoarse.

Y/N felt a thrill at his words, a warmth that spread through her body like wildfire. She leaned down, capturing his mouth in another kiss, her hips moving against his erection.

Bucky’s hands gripped her ass, urging her closer. His thumbs traced the lines of her panties, and she moaned into his mouth. With a sudden, surprising tenderness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid them down her legs, leaving her completely exposed.

He took a moment to drink in the sight of her, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Then, with a gentle push, he had her lying beneath him again, his body aligning with hers. The head of his cock nudged against her, and she spread her legs wider, silently begging for him to fill her.

With one swift thrust, he was inside her, the sensation so intense she saw stars. They moved together, their rhythm natural and unspoken, as if their bodies had known each other for lifetimes. The friction between them was exquisite, a symphony of pleasure that grew louder with each passing moment.

Their kisses grew deeper, more urgent, as their bodies tangled together. Y/N’s nails dug into Bucky’s back, her legs wrapping around his waist. The room spun around them, their worlds collapsing into a single point of heat and passion.

“I need you to know,” Bucky panted between kisses, his voice strained. “I need you to feel it—how much you mean to me. How much I want this to be more than just this—more than just a fuck.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at his words, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Bucky, I—”

He silenced her with another kiss, his hips rolling into her with a force that made her toes curl. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps. Bucky’s hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her with a newfound sense of urgency. His thumbs circled her nipples, teasing and taunting, until she was writhing beneath him.

Y/N’s hips met his every thrust, her legs tightening around his waist, urging him deeper. She felt herself climbing higher and higher, the tension in her body coiling tightly. Bucky’s movements grew more erratic, his grip on her hips tightening until she knew she’d have bruises. But she didn’t care. All that mattered was the feeling of him inside her, the way his eyes searched hers as if trying to drown in the depths of her soul.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over her, Y/N’s nails dug deeper into his back. She cried out his name, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. Bucky groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he continued to pump into her, chasing his own release. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with desire and emotion.

When he finally came, it was with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the room. He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing her skin gently as he emptied himself inside her.

Y/N felt a strange thrill at his words. It was as if he’d branded her with his very essence, claimed her in a way that went beyond the physical. Her walls crumbled, and she realized that she’d been waiting for this—for him to acknowledge what she’d been feeling all along.

Bucky’s breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxing into hers. He kissed the spot where he’d bitten her, his lips lingering. “Mine,” he murmured against her skin, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The possessiveness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. In that moment, she knew that she’d never be the same. She’d been marked by the Winter Soldier, claimed by the man she’d tried so hard not to love. And she didn’t want to be anyone else’s.

They laid there for a while, their hearts beating in sync, the silence speaking volumes. Y/N felt a sense of belonging that she hadn’t experienced in a long time—perhaps ever.

Slowly, Bucky pulled out of her, his eyes never leaving hers. He rolled over onto his side, pulling her with him so that she was nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively, as if he feared she might disappear if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

————————————-end of smut————————————————

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She felt his thumb rub circles into her back, soothing her, grounding her.

“You know you’re stuck with me now, right, doll?” he whispered, his voice a gentle rumble in her ear.

The words sent a warm glow through her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe that maybe she could have more with Bucky—that maybe he could be her everything.

“Bucky, what do you mean by that?” Y/N’s voice was small, filled with a mix of fear and hope.

He sighed, his chest moving against her with the force of his breath. “It’s complicated, doll,” he murmured. “But the simple version is that I don’t want to be the one who’s just good for a night anymore. I want to be the one who’s good for forever.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. She’d been dreaming of this moment, but hearing it from him was different. It was real—and terrifying. She didn’t know how to respond, so she buried her face into his neck, breathing in the scent of him, letting it fill her lungs.

They laid there in silence for a few moments longer before Bucky spoke again, his voice a low rumble in her ear. “We should talk about this, Y/N. I don’t want to scare you off, but I can’t keep pretending like this isn’t happening between us.”

Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she’d been both dreading and longing for. She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes searching his. “Okay,” she said, her voice strong despite the tremble in her chest. “Talk to me.”

Bucky rolled onto his back, bringing her with him so she was draped over his chest, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. His hand traced idle patterns on her back as he spoke. “You know my past, all the things I’ve done. I’ve never felt like I could offer someone like you anything real—anything that would make you happy. But when I’m with you, I feel…different. Like maybe I could be the man you deserve.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she listened to his words, feeling the weight of his confession in every beat of his heart beneath her cheek. “You are that man, Bucky,” she whispered. “You’ve always been that man to me.”

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down her face. “But what if I’m not enough?” he asked, his voice raw.

Y/N propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him. “You are enough. More than enough. And if you can’t see that, then I’ll just have to show you every day.”

The tension in the room had shifted, the air now thick with a new kind of anticipation. Bucky’s hand slid up her arm, his thumb caressing the sensitive skin of her inner wrist before moving to cup her cheek. He pulled her down for another kiss, this one slower, more deliberate than the ones before.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N could feel the change in him—the tension in his muscles had relaxed, his eyes had softened. He was looking at her with something new—a kind of hope she’d never seen in them before.

“Okay,” he said, his voice low and firm. “We’ll figure this out together. But I’m not letting you go, not now that I know what you mean to me.”

A smile spread across her face, genuine and warm. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Their eyes held for a long moment before Bucky leaned in and kissed her again, his hand sliding down to rest over her heart. The beat beneath his palm was a steady reminder of what she meant to him—what they meant to each other.

🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄🌄

Sunlight streamed through the curtains the next morning, warming Y/N’s bare shoulders. She stretched languidly, the memories of the night before flooding back in vivid detail. Turning over, she found Bucky already awake, leaning back against the headboard with a satisfied smirk.

“Morning, doll,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Y/N flushed under his gaze, her lips quirking into a small smile. “Morning.”

As she reached for her phone on the bedside table, Bucky stopped her, his hand wrapping around her wrist. “You won’t be needing this.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

He unlocked the phone with a swipe and handed it to her. The screen showed her contacts list, now missing a particular name.

“Bucky!” she gasped, sitting up. “You deleted John’s number?”

“Damn right I did,” he replied unapologetically. “He doesn’t get to see you like that. That’s for my eyes only.”

She gaped at him, torn between exasperation and affection. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe,” he said, pulling her back into his arms. “But you’re mine, doll. And that’s all that matters.”

Epilogue

From that day forward, things between them were different. Bucky didn’t run from his feelings anymore, and Y/N didn’t have to push hers away. Their relationship was messy and imperfect, but it was real—and it was theirs.

And John Walker? Well, he didn’t need to know what he was missing…

——————————————————————————————————

Hi! I really hope you enjoyed this. It wasn’t specified if you wanted smut, so I opted to make it a part that you could skip if you wanted. 🫶

Requests Open!

[devotedlypinkpeanut]

Love us as much as we love you — part 2

Summary: Y/n is a professor who spends a night with four men, unaware that they are students at the university where she is about to teach. These four students, known as the Black Apollos, rule Ravenridge School. Wealthy, arrogant, and violent, they instill terror wherever they go. Through this one-night encounter, they gain leverage over her that they will use as they please. This Halloween month, she and other students are invited to celebrate at their mansion. What will happen to her?

PAIRING: Non-idols of ENHYPEN’s hyung line x female reader

GENRE: 18+ (MDNI), adulthood, reverse harem, teacher/student.

Warning : manipulation, psychological violence, physical violence, blood, blood kink, spitting, spanking, bondage, blackmail, intimidation, harassment, threats, student/teacher relationship, fighting, jealousy, dark atmosphere, insults, public humiliation, mental domination, body control, forced consent, confinement, dangerous seduction, domination, double play, emotional dependency, trauma, revenge, mental torture, physical constraints, extortion, abuse of power, degradation, erotic pain, double penetration, anal sex, cigarette consumption, oral sex, role-playing, exhibitionism, voyeurism, BDSM, fetishism, vaginal penetration, submission practices, non-consensual acts, acts in public places, mental domination, sexual humiliation.

Number of words : ~ 50k

Hey everyone, feel free to like, comment, and share if you enjoy! Your support means a lot!

Every breath is torture. Your sweaty body is stuck in sticky sheets, their weight making you feel like you’re suffocating. Every attempt to move tears a searing pain from your muscles and joints, as if your own skeleton were rebelling against you. The acidity that scrapes your throat still burns, ravaging the insides of your body, although your nausea has long since had nothing to expel. Your stomach is empty, hollow like a bottomless pit, and what you vomit with each spasm is your malaise: sickening, bitter, a persistent poison that refuses to release you.

When the doorbell first rings, it’s like someone is hammering directly into your skull. A whimper escapes your dry lips, unable to find the strength to protest. But the noise returns, insistent, cruel, coming at you with the precision of a blade. Each ring crushes you a little more, as if the person on the other end knows exactly how much they’re torturing you. Trembling, you swing your legs out of bed. The icy contact of the floor makes you shudder, but you have no choice but to move forward, staggering, like wounded prey.

Every step is a struggle. Your legs wobble, unable to support your weight. You barely catch yourself on the wall, your breath coming in short, painful gasps. Sweat trickles between your shoulder blades and slides down your neck, making your own body unbearable to inhabit. The suffocating grip of your weakness envelops you, but you continue, your gaze unfocused, until you finally reach the door. Your clammy fingers slide over the handle, hesitate for a moment, then you open it, praying that this nightmare will end.

And there they are. Jake and Sunghoon, standing in the doorway like untouchable specters, their presence weighing heavily on you. Their posture is nonchalant, but every fiber of their being oozes arrogance and control, crushing you under the authority they exude without even needing to speak. Jake smirks—a smile that already announces your defeat. Sunghoon is silent for a moment, his eyes slowly roaming your body with icy attention, as if he takes pleasure in dissecting every detail of your pitiful state. Their perfume, powerful and expensive, hits you full force, seeping under your skin, a heady scent that reminds you of how much they belong to a world you can only touch with your fingertips.

In your faded SpongeBob pajamas, stuck to your damp skin, you feel miserable, reduced to an empty shell under their inquisitive gazes. Sunghoon narrows his eyes slightly, a fleeting smirk stretching his lips as he takes in the measure of your decline. Jake, for his part, lets out a light laugh, almost amused, but loaded with an unbearable condescension.

“I thought you were running away from us, Professor,” Jake breathes, crossing the threshold without waiting for your permission. His voice, soft and velvety, vibrates with cruel irony. He walks around your apartment as if he were its rightful owner, letting his fingers trail over your things with a morbid curiosity. “But I see you were just… sick.” He says the word with studied slowness, and his gaze lingers on you, his laughing eyes piercing your thin defense.

Sunghoon follows behind him, closing the door with disconcerting calm. His piercing gaze sweeps every corner of the room as if searching for evidence of your insignificance. “Your place is as pitiful as you are,” he murmurs, almost absently, but each word hits you with an implacable coldness. Your jaw clenches, but you don’t even have the energy to retort.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is hoarse and broken, each word ripped from a body too exhausted to fight. Your balance wavers, and Sunghoon is on you in an instant, his fingers firmly closing around your wrist. His grip is cold, methodical, a silent promise of absolute control. He effortlessly pulls you towards the couch and forces you to sit down, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that is both possessive and clinical.

“Like Jake said, bunny, we thought you were avoiding us,” he murmurs, crouching down in front of you, his gaze searching every inch of your exhausted face. There’s a troubled glint in his eyes, an unhealthy obsession that makes you want to disappear into the ground. “But now you don’t have to hide. We’re here. Let us handle everything.” It’s not a proposition. It’s an order. His voice is low, soft, but oozing with dominance.

Jake approaches slowly, positioning himself right above you. His eyes shine with perverse satisfaction, as if he’s relishing every second of your discomfort. “We’re going to take care of you,” he murmurs, his voice rough and drawling. “You can finally let go, Mom.” The nickname smacks like a disguised insult, and you feel your stomach churn again.

A wave of violent nausea washes over you, and you clumsily leap towards the bathroom, your body shaking and fragile. But before you can close the door, they're already behind you. Jake grabs a handful of your hair, gently tugging back to keep your face clear, a perverse smile playing on his lips.

Your body bends over the toilet, and you vomit with a violence that tears you apart from the inside. The acidity burns your throat and your eyes mist with uncontrollable tears. As you gasp, Sunghoon runs a slow hand over your back, his caresses strangely soothing, as if he finds a deranged pleasure in seeing you in this state.

When the spasms finally subside, you lift your head weakly, your face drenched in cold sweat. Your wobbly limbs betray you, every muscle screaming with exhaustion. Jake releases your hair with calculated slowness, his fingers sliding along your damp locks, as if he’s savoring the contact for a little too long. A gesture too precise, too intimate not to be disturbing.

The bitter taste of bile remains in your throat, and the suffocating weight of their presence crushes you a little more. They are there, omnipresent, and you already know that they are not done playing with you.

Sunghoon holds you firmly, his large, possessive hand pressed against your back in an embrace that leaves no room for ambiguity. His fingers skim your skin through the damp fabric of your pajamas, their deliberate movements marking every inch of your body like a silent takeover. He doesn’t need to speak to impose his hold on you—the way he exerts this subtle pressure, slipping effortlessly beneath the surface of your skin, is enough to make you understand that you belong to him, here and now. “Easy,” he murmurs near your ear, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating with ambiguous promises. The warm breath of his words brushes the line of your jaw, a caress as unsettling as it is unalterable.

The palm of his hand slides slowly down your back to your waist, and his grip tightens insidiously, holding you back just enough for you to understand that it is not help, but a silent warning. Your legs wobble under the weight of his control, and despite yourself, you lean further against him, your body seeking an unstable balance in this forced proximity. Each step towards the sink is a fight—not only against the physical weakness that eats away at you, but also against the strange nausea that tightens your chest, fueled by this thick atmosphere loaded with unspoken words.

When you reach the sink, your trembling fingers manage to turn the tap. The icy water spurts out brutally and hits your face in a sharp wave, but the shock doesn't erase the bitter burn in your throat or the oppressive weight that continues to weigh on you. You feel like you're suffocating, but the air saturated with their presence prevents you from breathing fully. Jake is there, just a few steps away, his gaze scrutinizing you with a perverse intensity, as if he's drinking in your weakness. His clear eyes shine with an unhealthy fascination, capturing every shudder of your body with a clinical, almost predatory attention.

He holds out a towel in a slow gesture, almost insulting in its nonchalance. The air around you is so thick that the simple act of grabbing the towel becomes an act charged with palpable tension. The fabric is rough against your overly sensitive skin, but you continue to wipe your face in silence, aware that every movement is being watched, analyzed, memorized. Your every move seems to fuel a latent desire in them, a twisted satisfaction in seeing you in this state of vulnerability.

Sunghoon stays behind you, his heavy, imposing presence reminding you that there is no escape. “Let’s get you back to bed, bunny,” he murmurs, his voice soft, almost caressing, but so full of control that it makes your blood run cold. Before you can protest, he lifts you up with disconcerting ease, as if your weight is nothing to him. Your damp pajamas cling to your skin, and you feel every fiber of Sunghoon’s clothes, as luxurious as they are cold, pressing against you. His arms around you are not a protection, but a cage. Each step he takes is slow, calculated, as if he wants to fully savor every second of your helplessness in his arms.

Jake opens the door to your room with an almost theatrical nonchalance. He lifts the covers with a deliberate gesture, revealing the bed with a slowness that borders on provocation. The mattress, cold under your feverish body, tears an uncontrollable shiver from you. Sunghoon places you with disturbing precision, his gaze fixed on yours. He doesn't need words to make you understand that this room is no longer a refuge for you. You are here at their mercy.

The sheet slides over your trembling skin, tugged by expert, confident hands. Each gesture is a subtly intrusive caress, a silent promise of what they can do with you, whenever they want. The way they lock you under this blanket is almost ceremonial, as if they are marking their territory with perverse meticulousness.

Sunghoon leans down, his large hand brushing your cheek with unsettling slowness. The caress is seemingly gentle, but each movement is measured, controlled, as if he were pressing an invisible button inside you. “Rest. We’ll be here when you wake up,” he murmurs, his voice so low that each word seems to slip under your skin. His lips brush your forehead, but this kiss is anything but innocent—it’s a mark, a veiled promise that leaves an invisible burn on your skin.

Jake, however, doesn’t just watch. He leans closer, and his fingers find yours under the sheet. He brings them to his lips, placing slow, pressing kisses on your skin. Each one is a promise disguised as tenderness, an intimate gesture distorted by the intensity of his gaze. “Sleep well, Mom,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, almost hypnotic. His fingers slowly trace circles on the back of your hand, a gesture that is both soothing and insidiously possessive.

The silence that follows is heavy, almost oppressive. They stay there for a moment, motionless, as if savoring the moment. The air is saturated with their presence, with that latent tension that sticks to your skin. Then, slowly, they leave the room, each of their steps resonating like a promise to return. The door remains ajar, a deliberate opening, as if to remind you that they could come back at any moment.

Even when their silhouettes disappear, their presence continues to permeate the atmosphere. Every fiber of your being is marked by them, like an indelible imprint. You close your eyes, but their control remains there, chained to you, anchored deep in your mind. You still feel the weight of their gaze on your body, the burn of their caresses on your skin. Even in your sleep, you know they are still there, ready to interfere in the slightest crack.

You slowly emerge from sleep, your muscles numb with a fatigue you can't explain. Your body is still heavy and painful, as if it were still carrying the weight of an opaque dream, a mixture of shadows and sensations that escapes you. However, reality imposes itself brutally on you, through the intoxicating smell of food that invades the room. It slips into your nostrils, hot, spicy, almost indecent. Each breath is an intrusive caress, stirring a primitive hunger that awakens in the pit of your belly. Your stomach gurgles with brutal intensity, a guttural noise that echoes in the silence, like an imperious reminder of your body's needs.

You straighten up with difficulty, your bare feet meeting the cold of the ground. The sensation passes through you like an icy shock, tearing a shiver that runs down your spine. Your legs wobble, still marked by a dull fatigue, the exhaustion of an effort that you have no memory of having made. But something pushes you forward, an irresistible force, almost animal. Attracted by the heady smell, you advance slowly into the corridor, the weight of each step reinforcing the impression of sinking deeper into an invisible trap.

As you approach the kitchen, the sounds become clearer: deep voices, interspersed with stifled laughter and knowing murmurs. The atmosphere is heavy, saturated with a dull tension, like a promise left hanging. A strange excitement simmers beneath the surface, a latent threat that mixes with your hunger, making each step harder, each breath heavier.

As you cross the threshold of the kitchen, their voices abruptly stop, and their gazes turn to you as if they were waiting for you. The silence that follows is oppressive, almost suffocating. Your stomach gurgles again, a vulgar and inappropriate sound that seems to resonate throughout the room. Their conversation stops, and their eyes lock on yours with a disturbing, almost predatory intensity. Their gazes scrutinize you, slide over your body with a calculated slowness, as if they take pleasure in observing every detail, every shiver that you cannot contain.

Feeling exposed under this burning attention, you instinctively wrap an arm around your stomach, hoping to erase the obvious vulnerability your body betrays. But this paltry gesture of protection only intrigues them more. Their gazes become more insistent, more heavy, lingering on the curve of your shoulders, the tension in your jaw, the slightest hesitation in your breath. The air around you seems to thicken, like an invisible spider's web slowly tightening around you.

Sunghoon, still in front of the stove, looks up at you. “I hope you don’t mind that we used your kitchen, bunny,” he murmurs, his voice low and drawling, like a dangerous promise whispered in your ear. The seemingly innocuous nickname sounds different in his mouth—intimate, possessive, like a chain he’s gently pulling to draw you to him. He stirs the pan with an almost provocative slowness, a barely perceptible smile floating on his lips. His gaze remains anchored to yours, heavy with innuendo, letting you understand that this isn’t just about cooking.

“Jay usually does it,” he adds, his tone deceptively light contrasting with the palpable tension in the room. “I’m not the best, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.” His words are measured, each syllable a subtle test of how far he can take this game. He smiles, and the slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes lets you know he’s already savoring the effect he’s having on you.

Jake, leaning casually against the counter, bursts out laughing, his deep, raspy laugh resonating like an abrasive caress on your skin. He straightens slightly, his gaze locked on yours with an unsettling intensity. “Hoon, a good cook? Damn, we’ve known for a long time that he’s not.” His smile widens, revealing a hint of provocation in his clear eyes. “Jay spends his time yelling at him as soon as he touches a pot. Seriously, that guy can set fire to water.”

He lets out a small, amused snort, his lips stretching into a mocking grin. But behind this apparent lightness, you perceive something else: a sly malice, a calculated provocation, as if he takes pleasure in destabilizing you. Every word he says, every gesture he makes, is a disguised invitation, a trap set under a casual appearance.

Then, as if his joke was just an excuse, Jake slowly slides his gaze from Sunghoon to you. His smile widens, revealing a glint of cheeky defiance. “Honestly, honey, I suggest you don’t touch that thing if you don’t want to be stuck in bed all day…” He trails off, a calculated silence stretching out, and when he continues, his voice is lower, slipping like an intimate whisper against your ear. “Although… maybe being stuck in bed with us wouldn’t be such a bad idea, right?”

The suggestion hits you right in the heart, a burning wave of discomfort and excitement mingling together rising within you. The weight of his words seeps under your skin, insidious, and you struggle to hide the heat that intrudes despite yourself. But it’s no use. They’ve seen that fleeting glint in your eyes—a fragility you thought was hidden, a desire you refuse to admit. They still see it. Their ability to read you with unnerving precision makes you vulnerable. Your soft laugh escapes your lips, clumsy, trying to break the tension. But the sound echoes through the kitchen like a false note, amplifying instead of soothing. Their gazes grow heavy, sharper, as if your laughter has just given them exactly what they’ve been waiting for.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you say softly, almost in a desperate attempt to assert a control you can already feel slipping through your fingers. But your whisper lacks confidence. It hangs in the air between you, fragile, like a futile attempt to push back an inescapable tide. And that uncertainty only fuels the intensity in their eyes. Sunghoon looks away briefly, and you catch a glimpse of the faint blush that colors his cheeks. He coughs awkwardly, but you note the tension in his shoulders and the nervous way his fingers clench around the handle of the pan.

His movements, slow and calculated, take on an almost intimate dimension. He stirs the contents of the pan with exaggerated attention, as if he were trying to prolong this moment suspended in the heavy air of the kitchen. Each movement of his wrists is too precise, too controlled, as if he wanted to transform this simple gesture into something more suggestive. You feel an unpleasant shiver brush the back of your neck.

“It was well-intentioned, after all…” you murmur, your own words wavering between an apology and an attempt to minimize what’s happening before your eyes. But that sentence, far from lightening the atmosphere, seems to make it more oppressive. Jake lets out a low chuckle, that vibrating, insidious sound that grips your chest like an invisible chain. He straightens up with calculated slowness, his movements imbued with that dangerous nonchalance that is his own, and takes a step toward you.

Each step sounds like a veiled promise, a bittersweet threat. He stops just close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body against yours, but not quite touching. His proximity envelops you, and you feel that magnetic tension between your bodies, heavy with unspoken expectations. “Good intentions, huh?” he repeats, tilting his head slightly, his eyes lingering over your face with a devouring insistence. His breath brushes your skin, and the sensation is soft enough to be pleasant, but intrusive enough to shake you. An uncontrollable shiver runs down your spine, and you know he’s noticed. “That’s cute of you to think that.”

His tone is a velvety whisper, but his words are sharp, like a blade gently grazing your skin without piercing it. You are trapped, unable to move, between Jake’s casual arrogance and Sunghoon’s silent but overwhelming presence. One toys with you, skillfully pulling the invisible strings of your discomfort, while the other watches you with a latent intensity, waiting for his moment to intervene.

You understand then, with a frightening clarity, that they are not simply there to make you taste a dubious dish. Their gestures, their looks, their words are imbued with a hunger much deeper, much darker. A hunger that exceeds the one your stomach demands. What they want from you is not innocent. They feed on your reactions, delighting in each shiver, each blush, like predators savoring the moment before pouncing on their prey.

And you, motionless in this cramped kitchen, you already feel the noose tightening.

Your stomach rumbles again, and an insatiable heat invades your body, spreading from your head to your toes. The intensity of Jake’s gaze almost makes you swoon, and you look away, unable to withstand his hypnotic power. But he doesn’t let you escape. With a firm movement, he grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze, his dark eyes burning with a desire you can’t ignore. The connection between you is palpable, an electric tension that seems to vibrate in the air.

“I see you’re hungry, Mom,” he murmurs, his deep, smooth voice making you shiver. His words sound like an invitation to succumb to temptation. He slides his fingers over your jaw, caressing your skin with an almost painful delicacy. The attention makes you shudder, and the embarrassment ignites into an irresistible desire. “Get on your knees, I’ll feed you my seed, since you can’t wait any longer.” His words, tinged with an undeniable impetuosity, resonate in you like an indecent promise, and you are immediately invaded by a wave of heat that surges through your body.

Without resistance, you drop to your knees in front of him, a burning submission of arousal flooding through you. You're aware of your vulnerability, but the feeling is strangely exhilarating. The position makes you feel both desirable and exposed, and you shudder in anticipation, your gaze fixed on his crotch.

“Jake…” you call out shyly, your voice trembling betraying your excitement. Your eyes search for Sunghoon, who stands there, unfazed, leaning against the stove. He watches the scene with a smirk, his eyes shining with a pernicious amusement that only increases your discomfort. You wonder what he thinks of this situation, but the anxiety is quickly chased away by a stronger urge.

“Oh… honey, you’re so cute,” Jake says, his mocking tone making you blush. He’s noticed your concern and turns it to his advantage. “You’re worried about what Hoon thinks? But he loves this, watching you get fucked by his fucking best friend, doesn’t he, Hoon?” His voice, drawling and mocking, makes you shudder as he strokes your hair, tugging on it with rough tenderness. Each pull makes you let out small moans, and you hear Sunghoon hum softly, nodding to what’s playing out in front of him, as if he’s taking perverse pleasure in watching your downfall.

“How about we put on a little show for him to jerk off to?” Jake whispers, leaning down towards you, his hot breath brushing your skin. His dirty words, like fireworks in your mind, make you gasp, each syllable amplifying the intense desire that makes your heart beat faster. You feel a dull wetness between your thighs, the promise of unspoken pleasure. Your face heats up as he chuckles, his lips brushing your skin with disconcerting sensuality. “Hmm… I knew you were a good girl for us,” he whispers, a smirk on his lips. “Now open wide for me.”

He stands up, towering over the room, a burning gaze fixed on your mouth that slowly opens for him, like a silent invitation full of obscene promises. Every movement of his body is charged with power and desire, and you feel your heart racing. In a gesture imbued with confidence, he undoes his pants, letting the fabric slide down his hips with delicious slowness, before lowering his boxers. His cock springs out, already oozing pre-cum, an indecent offering that gently smacks against your face. The impact makes you gasp, a delicious surprise that sends a wave of heat rising through you, as you shiver at the feeling of that heat, both sticky and cold, spreading across your skin.

The musky, intoxicating scent that rises in the air catches you by the throat, enveloping you in an almost unreal state of arousal. Your senses are alert, vibrating, and a part of you is eager to taste every bit of it, every drop. Your fingers, trembling with anticipation, instinctively go to your face, dragging over the slippery texture before being gently pressed against your parted lips. 

You start sucking on your fingers, licking them thoroughly, savoring the salty taste that fills your mouth and makes an irrepressible urge rise within you. Your eyes, shining with desire and defiance, remain fixed on him, observing every reaction on his face as he watches you, visibly intoxicated by the scene. The moans you let out around your fingers are like a sensual melody that draws him in even more, pushing him to lose control.

Continuing to suck on your fingers, you push yourself up slightly on your knees, edging closer to him, your body throbbing with anticipation. Your tongue finds its way between your lips, sliding gently to lick up the last drops of pre-cum that bead at the tip of his member. The touch of your tongue on his warm, smooth skin sends shivers of pleasure down his spine, and you see his muscles tense under your touch. He lets out a guttural sigh, a note of desire that resonates in the air. You can see the tension in his muscles, the impatience building as he stares at you, eagerly wanting.

“Fuck… I didn’t know you were such a slut, bunny.” Sunghoon lets out the words with a mix of frustration and raw desire, his heated gaze settling on you as you turn your head to Jake, his enthusiasm palpable. Jealousy seizes Sunghoon, washing over him like a rising tide. His body reacts with a burning intensity, an irresistible drive that urges him to possess you right then and there.

He watches every detail, every movement of your body. When you slowly remove your wet fingers from your lips, the soft, wet sound that escapes them resonates in the air, sending a shiver down his spine. You open your mouth, a raw and bold invitation, exposing your gaping, dilated throat to their hungry gazes. The expression of your submission, mixed with a wild audacity, excites Sunghoon beyond control.

Fuck, he would give anything to be the one fucking your throat, to be the one you remember in your darkest dreams. The image of you, head tilted back, mouth wide open and ready to receive him, is imprinted on his mind like an obsession. He already imagines his hips thrusting forward hard, his member sinking deep inside you, filling you completely, until you are completely his.

He can almost hear your moans, mingling with the hot sounds of his flesh against your throat as you face him with a consuming submission. The thought of being the one dominating you, of having you crack under his weight, sets him aflame with desire. He wants to feel your throat contract around him, to hear you call his name as you succumb to the madness of the pleasure he gives you.

Jake, for his part, seems to be savoring this moment, his gaze fixed on you, and it only adds to Sunghoon’s frustration. “You know what I would do if I were him?” he whispers, his voice a mix of challenge and promise, a dark invitation to debauchery. “I would grab you by the hair, I would take you roughly, filling you with everything you desire, until you lose your mind.”

Those words echo through you like a devastating echo, making you wetter as you rub your thighs together, an insatiable heat flooding through you. The wetness between them becomes almost unbearable, a tide of desire engulfing you. You know full well that these are not just empty words. Sunghoon will eventually act on it, you are convinced of it, because he is a man of his word. The wait is a delicious poison that excites you even more.

Suddenly, Jake catches your attention, his hand grabbing your jaw to turn your head towards him, breaking the eye contact that bound you to Sunghoon. The moment is electric, and you feel a palpable tension in the air, a power struggle between the two men. As you are forced to look at him, he gives you an intense, almost possessive look. Before you can react, he roughly shoves his cock down your throat, causing a moan of surprise and pleasure to rise from your chest.

“I want you to focus on me, not him,” he says, his voice thick with jealousy and desire. Each word is a command, a demand that resonates deep within you. Tears well up in your eyes as he forces you to take him all the way, your body reacting against your will. You can feel his hot, hard member slide into your throat, a brutal intrusion that makes you shudder with pleasure and pain.

He begins to move slowly in your mouth, his hips moving with calculated sensuality, each movement charged with an almost palpable intensity. His eyes, filled with unquenchable desire, scrutinize you with an almost possessive attention. He groans with pleasure, a throaty, guttural sound that resonates in the air, awakening in you a burning desire, an irrepressible urge to satisfy him. The heat of your mouth envelops him, soft and wet, and you feel his cock pulse against your tongue, an irresistible invitation to submit completely to his desires. Every movement he makes bewitches you, your saliva flowing around him, making every friction even more pleasurable, every pressure an exquisite delight.

Tightening your lips around him, you slide your tongue along his smooth skin, exploring every prominent vein, every perfect curve. You linger on the head, playing with the musky taste of his flesh, a mix of sweat and desire that intoxicates all your senses. With each in and out of your tongue, you feel his breath grow shorter, more panting, while his moans of pleasure, guttural sounds, encourage you to intensify your game. You want him to feel as good as he makes you feel, as if he's burning you from the inside out.

Your hands move to his thighs, caressing them gently, brushing his skin with addictive softness, all the while coaxing him deeper into your throat. The sensation is both unsettling and delicious, your esophagus dilating as you swallow him completely, his warmth mixing with your saliva. Each thrust is a struggle between the desire to let him do it and the need to catch your breath, an erotic dance where you gradually lose control. His cock invades your being, and each movement makes him sink even deeper into you, pushing the limits of your own submission.

He grips your hair tightly, tugging slightly, forcing you to take him even more. You feel the pressure growing in your throat, and a shiver of pleasure washes over you, mixed with a slight choking that makes you want him even more. You are at his mercy, completely his, savoring every moment of this delicious humiliation. His hip thrusts become deeper and faster, and you feel tears leak from your eyes, a mixture of pleasure and pain as you struggle to stay focused on the task at hand.

“Fuck… Hoon, come see how perfectly her throat fits my cock.” Jake’s voice echoes through the kitchen, deep and husky, each syllable vibrating with perverse pleasure. His ragged breaths betray his arousal as he continues to thrust into your mouth roughly, a frenzied and merciless pace. Each thrust propels him inside you, tearing out gasps from you, a symphony of pain and pleasure mixed together. Your hands, trapped in his muscular thighs, claw desperately at his flesh, searching for a way to breathe, a temporary escape from this suffocating embrace. But he gives you no chance. Each thrust is deeper than the last, each movement more violent, as if he seeks to possess you entirely.

“Look at that, Hoon… She swallows it like a pro.” His smirk stretches on his lips, a mix of pride and desire as his cock briefly pops out of your mouth, covered in thick drool, leaving slimy trails on your chin. Sunghoon, intrigued, approaches with an aroused expression, his eyes scanning your throat that swells with each penetration. You can feel the heat of his body, his aura of adrenaline and power sucking you into a vortex of desire.

“Fuck… Did you see how his windpipe moves with your cock?” he says, his voice almost hypnotic. He runs a finger down your throat, caressing the obscene outline that forms with each thrust. The feel of his finger on your delicate skin intensifies your desire, a dull heat spreading through you. Each of Jake’s movements becomes painfully precise, merciless, increasing your insatiable need to be taken. Tears begin to shine in your eyes, a testament to the struggle between pain and pleasure as your throat contracts around his flesh. Jake laughs softly, a guttural sound that resonates in the air, the echo of the pleasure he draws from your suffering.

“You like it, don’t you, bunny?” Sunghoon whispers, his voice soft and sweet mixing with the brutality of the moment. You nod, an unconscious gesture that pushes Jake’s cock even further inside, and you let out a cry of surprise, an almost animalistic sound, which only heightens their arousal. Sunghoon then grabs your throat, squeezing slowly, his penetrating gaze never leaving you, observing the expressions of pain mixed with ecstasy on your face. Your breathing becomes chaotic, tremors shaking your body under the increasing pressure.

Sunghoon’s grip tightens you around Jake’s cock, intensifying the friction, causing a wave of heat to run through your body. Jake groans, that primal sound echoing through the room, resonating like a promise of pleasure and debauchery. “Yeah, squeeze his throat again, whore.” His fingers dig into your hair, forcing you to keep him deep inside you, an uncompromising domination. You gasp, wet gurgles escaping your filled mouth, mixed with muffled moans, testifying to your inability to breathe. The pain becomes a backdrop of pleasure, a mixture of sensations that takes you into a spiral of despair and pleasure.

Each thrust becomes rougher, deeper, reducing your breath to short, uncontrollable gasps. Jake picks up the pace, pounding into your mouth with an animalistic intensity, like a hunter feasting on his prey. His hips thrust with an irresistible frenzy, each movement emphasizing his power over you, each assault making you lose more of your lucidity. Tears flood your face, tracing bright lines across your hot, swollen cheeks, your gaze losing its shine as pain mixes with ecstasy, creating a vivid tableau of your defeat.

“Look at her, Hoon… Look how beautiful she is when she’s dying for my cock,” Jake hisses, his pleasure growing as your face twists with the effort. Sunghoon chuckles softly, his thumb sliding over your parted lips, opening them a little more, as if to make the spectacle even more obscene and disturbing. Every movement becomes a statement of possession, a brutal reminder of their power over you, as if your pain were a trophy.

Jake leans forward, his veins bulging, his guttural groans growing raspier. “You feel it, huh? The way she squeezes even tighter with your hand around her throat…” Sunghoon doesn’t let up, intensifying each violent thrust, the heat of his body against yours creating an atmosphere thick with desire. Jake pushes in all the way to the hilt, holding your breath completely for endless seconds, leaving you gasping for air, before pulling out just enough to let you breathe. The first breath is painful, a mixture of relief and suffocation that makes your heart race.

Your face is a painting of tears, drool, and desire, every line revealing how hungry your body is for more. Jake’s perverse ecstasy only grows, like a devastating storm that breaks over your consciousness. He speeds up again, fucking your mouth with desperate violence, each movement leaving its mark on your body, while Sunghoon keeps his grip tight around your throat, controlling your spasms, your tremors, like a puppeteer pulling the strings of his toy.

“Fuck, you’re perfect like this,” Jake groans, his thrusts becoming erratic, close to orgasm. You let out a final strangled gurgle, your throat unable to handle the final assault. Sunghoon loosens his grip slightly to grant you a short reprieve, but it’s only so Jake can thrust deeper into you, reducing you to a state of total submission.

Jake pushes your head down with palpable authority, his manhood sliding deep into your mouth, forcing you to devour him. You feel the heat and musky scent of his body intensify as he pushes you to take him all the way. Anxiety mixes with excitement, your heart racing as you feel trapped between humiliation and unmatched pleasure. Every pulse of his cock against your tongue sends shivers down your spine, immersing you in delicious ecstasy.

As he keeps his hold on your hair, he leaves you there, struggling to breathe. The salty taste of his skin mixes with your saliva, and you're completely lost, numb to the mixture of sensations flooding your mind. Tears start to pool in the corners of your eyes again, but it's not the pain that worries you. It's the overwhelming urge for more, to take it all in. The pressure in your throat reminds you of your place, and every second you spend taking him turns you into a little more of a pleasure doll.

Jake growls in need, his raspy sounds filling the air with erotic tension. “Fuck… I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, his words wrapping around you like a promise. His thrusts become harder, messier, each thrust driving him deeper, pushing you deeper into the whirlpool of desire.

Sunghoon releases your neck completely, a lustful glint burning in his eyes. “Fill her, Jake,” he orders, and the way he says it makes your heart pound uncontrollably. His authority resonates through you, reminding you how much you’re at their mercy. You feel a wave of heat wash over you at the thought, and you know you’re caught in a dangerous game, but it turns you on even more.

Jake resumes his thrusts with an unbridled frenzy, pushing you to the brink of suffocation. Each press of his cock against your tongue makes your body vibrate, and as he pushes your head one last time into his pubic bone, you know you're about to cross a limit. The pleasure explodes inside him, a torrent of pleasure pouring down your throat, overwhelming you with the heat of his orgasm.

You're forced to swallow, and you do your best to take it all in, fighting the urge to spit, but drops escape, falling onto the kitchen floor, wetting your pajamas. The sounds of your swallowing and the moans you can't hold back create an obscene melody, filling the space with raw, wild energy.

Sunghoon moves closer, his eyes never leaving your face, watching every move with an intensity that makes you shudder. He knows you’re at their mercy, and this power grab drives him crazy with desire. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his smooth voice enveloping your skin, and you’re surprised by the excitement that rises within you at his words.

Jake finally releases you, but the warmth of his body remains etched in your memory. The room is hot, almost stifling, and every breath you take seems to be a mixture of pleasure and pain. Sunghoon leans down to you, his eyes searching your face with a consuming fascination. 

“I thought you were starving, bunny, but what’s all this waste?” Sunghoon asks, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he scans the floor, stained with Jake’s cum. His gaze is penetrating, almost devouring, making you shiver with unwelcome arousal. He leans down slightly, his eyes glinting with sadistic amusement, every movement emphasizing his dominance.

“Clean.” His voice, cold and mocking, echoes through the room, a command that vibrates something deep within you. Your mind, still hazy from pleasure, struggles to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Part of you disagrees, but another is drawn to this power, to this submission.

"Hoon—"

“Shh…” He cuts you off, a commanding, icy glare that pins you to the spot. The deceptive softness of his voice terrifies you as much as it excites you. “Now do as I say before I make you.” His words are simple, but they carry a crushing weight, a challenge you know you can’t resist. You feel the blood pulsing through your veins, a dull heat rising to your head.

“Don’t be naughty, Mom.” Jake steps in then, his hand sliding gently over your head, caressing you in a way that, against all odds, feels good. A small moan escapes your lips, an involuntary response to his touch. Each caress is a reminder of the degrading situation you’re in, but paradoxically, it makes something primal vibrate within you.

Your face burns with shame as you feel your fingers approach Jake’s seed, hot and sticky on the floor. Sunghoon slaps your hand, making you let out a small hiss. The mixture of pain and humiliation makes your heart beat wildly. “With your tongue, I want you to lick.” His voice is soft, almost sensual, but his gaze leaves no doubt as to his intention. A wave of heat invades you, and you know you can’t refuse.

Looking at Sunghoon, you know his challenge is more than just a game. With palpable hesitation, you stick your tongue out, the heat of humiliation mixing with a disturbing arousal. You lick Jake’s seed, the warm, slimy texture mixing with the saliva on your tongue. Each movement is an act of submission, an acceptance of their dominance over you. You drag your tongue out, savoring the wetness of your humiliation, and swallow, the acrid taste imprinting itself on your palate.

“You’re a good girl for us, Professor,” Jake says, his voice laced with a mixture of mockery and approval. Looking up, you’re aware of the burning in your cheeks, your entire body trembling with a mixture of shame and excitement. Every glance they give you makes you feel like an object, something to be devoured. You can’t help but look down, avoiding their gaze, eager to escape the intensity of their attention.

“Look at me, Y/n.” Jake orders you, taking your chin in a firm grip. He forces your gaze to meet his, but your eyes are shifty, trying to avoid his hold. Every second that passes under his gaze makes you feel more and more vulnerable, like your soul is exposed.

“Fuck, I said look at me.” He shouts, his voice filled with frustration as he tightens his grip on your chin. A shiver runs through you, and you’re forced to look at him, fear wrapping itself around you like a hug. “Never be ashamed in front of us, and never run away from my gaze, ever.” His anger and burning desire consume you, forcing you to feel the intensity of his dominance.

“I’m sorry…” You whisper, tears of shame streaming down your cheeks, your heart racing under his merciless gaze. You feel small, exposed, like you’re entirely at their mercy.

“Hey, bunny, it’s okay.” Sunghoon tells you in a tone that’s meant to be reassuring, but you know that even he hides a form of cruelty beneath his gentleness. He pulls you away from Jake and turns you towards him, placing your head against his chest. His body is warm and reassuring, but you can’t ignore the shiver of anxiety that invades you.

He begins to gently caress your shaking back as the tears continue to fall. His touch is both tender and possessive, as if he wants to protect you while keeping you at his mercy. “Jake isn’t mad at you, you know that, right?” He whispers in your ear, his voice smooth as velvet, but you can sense the threat lurking beneath his words.

You nod, seeking refuge in his arms, but you're still aware of Jake's shadow, ever-present. The air is thick with tension, and you know this isn't over. What they want from you goes far beyond physical humiliation. They want to break you, but they also want to build you up to their dark desires.

Sunghoon gently pushes you away, his piercing gaze locked on yours as you remain frozen in his comforting embrace. The warmth of his body, combined with the anguish that invades you, creates a confusing mix of emotions. He wipes away the tears that run down your cheeks with his thumbs, his gestures filled with tenderness, as if he wants to make all the pain you have felt disappear. After wiping away your tears, he leans towards you, his lips delicately touching your forehead before settling on your nose. The simple gesture evokes an almost childish sweetness, drawing a light laugh from you that resonates in the air heavy with tension.

But that laugh is soon replaced by a thrill of excitement as his smile widens, revealing his white, shiny teeth, almost predatory. He steps closer, his lips landing on yours with a devouring fervor that makes your heart beat erratically. The passion he gives off envelops you like a cocoon, and you feel your mind fog up in a torrid heat. The moment is charged with electricity, every movement a promise, an invitation to lose yourself in this dark moment, beyond your limits.

He doesn’t give a damn that you still have Jake’s taste in your mouth, a bitter taste that lingers like an unpleasant shadow. Sunghoon pushes his tongue into your mouth, exploring every corner with a wild intensity. The exchange is raw, almost possessive, and you feel his hot breath mix with yours. He plays with your tongue, drawing you into a whirlwind of sensations. Each caress of his tongue electrifies you, and you begin to remember all the delicious sensations he arouses in you. The salty aftertaste of Jake’s cum mixes with your flavor, the combination making him shudder with excitement.

It’s like a game, a challenge between the two men, each seeking to claim your body, your heart, your soul. As his tongue moves with disconcerting expertise, he kisses you so deeply that you feel like you’re losing yourself completely. Sunghoon sucks you in, leaving you panting, wanting more. His hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh, as if he wants to mark his territory.

“I’m starving,” he whispers, his raspy voice full of unfulfilled desire. He finally releases you, but just enough to kiss you quickly before standing up. His strong arms lift you effortlessly, carrying you to the dining table. The cold surface of the wood surprises you, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body. The sensation makes you shiver, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness.

“I thought we were going to eat?” you ask softly, your tone betraying your shock at this new situation, your voice trembling slightly as you look at him with feigned innocence.

“I'm going to eat your pussy,” he states bluntly, his heated gaze letting you know he's not joking. His fingers slide over the fabric of your pajamas, running over your delicate skin, and he begins to tug the garment down. The sound of the fabric ruffling mixes with your panting breaths as the room seems to fill with palpable tension.

He discovers your soaked panties, and his smile widens, revealing a sick satisfaction. With calculated delicacy, he also pulls your panties down, revealing your femininity to his insistent gaze. The air becomes hot around you, charged with an erotic tension that makes your heart beat wildly. The feeling of the cool air on your exposed skin makes you shiver, and you feel a surge of desire with each passing second.

Sunghoon slowly crouches down, his eyes never leaving yours. He admires the sight you offer him, your soft, vulnerable skin, and the moisture that gathers there. His hands slide along your thighs, lingering on every inch of your skin, and his fingers get lost in the contours of your body. Each caress is a promise, each movement is a warning. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he loves the power he has over you.

His lips brush your thigh, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He runs his tongue along the inside of your thigh, tasting your warmth, his hot breath making the adrenaline rush through your veins. His movements are slow, almost agonizing, as he slowly approaches your heat. Each brush of his tongue against your skin is a whiplash that sets you on fire. You want to grab him, to beg him not to stop, but some deep instinct pushes you to submit to his pace.

Sunghoon finally stops in front of your pussy, swollen and dripping, shamelessly exposed on the cold surface of the kitchen table. His dark gaze is fixed on your throbbing intimacy, and he slowly runs his tongue over his lips, like a predator ready to devour its prey. Without a word, he violently squeezes your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin with a brutal grip, leaving red marks in their wake. Then, with a sudden movement, he pulls you roughly towards the edge of the table, your pelvis sliding dangerously until your sex is within immediate reach of his mouth.

Without warning, he dives between your thighs with bestial voracity. His lips press against your flesh, hot and eager, brushing your clit with cruel slowness. His tongue ventures in light strokes, teasing just enough to send a shiver down your spine, but never enough to quell your need. You instinctively grip the edge of the table with one hand, nails digging into the wood, while small moans escape you despite yourself, muffled awkwardly behind your free, trembling hand.

“You think I’m going to let you hide like this?” he hisses, his voice low and menacing, tinged with contempt. His gaze burns with fierce impatience, and before you can even answer, his teeth clamp down on your clit. The shock hits you, the pain ripping through you, tearing a strangled cry from your lips. A violent burn radiates through your lower abdomen, blurring the line between agony and pleasure.

Sunghoon slowly releases his bite, letting your skin pulse between his lips as his eyes pierce you, full of cruel satisfaction. “I want to hear every little whimper, bunny. No filter, no control.” His fingers tighten on your thigh with such force that you’re sure he’ll leave you with bruises. “Don’t hide them from me, or I’ll make you regret it.”

His tone is sharp, and a dull fear grips you, mixed with an arousal as irrational as it is uncontrollable. Trembling, you remove your hand from your mouth, abandoning any pretense of restraint. Every moan, every breath escapes you with a raw, uncontrollable honesty. Sunghoon sketches a satisfied smile at your surrender. “Good girl…” he murmurs with perverse satisfaction.

Without wasting a second, he plunges back between your thighs, but this time with a merciless intensity. His tongue wraps around your clitoris, torturing it with calculated and precise movements, alternating between languid strokes and brutal pressures. Each slide of his tongue is a delicious torture that brings you a little closer to the edge, playing with your body as if you belong entirely to him. His lips suck your flesh with an obscene fervor, leaving behind a trail of hot saliva that drips down your thighs.

He thrusts two fingers inside you without warning, forcing the passage with controlled brutality. Your body arches violently under the assault, and a mixture of pain and intense pleasure makes you lose all sense of control. The wet smack of his movements echoes in the silent room, an echo of the obscenity of the moment. Each thrust of his fingers is punctuated by the muffled sound of his tongue on your clit, pushing you further into a spiral of destructive desire.

“Look at you… You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls against your skin, his words vibrating with possessiveness. His tongue lashes at you, his fingers digging deeper, and your body writhes beneath him, unable to resist the brutal ecstasy he’s forcing upon you. Pleasure surges through you, consuming you from the inside out, until every nerve in your body is on fire.

“Yes… I belong to you, Hoon,” you whisper between breathless moans, your voice betraying the mixture of ecstasy and desperation that consumes you as your body becomes prey to his relentless assaults. Each movement of his fingers awakens a raw sensitivity in you that seems to exceed the limits of your resistance, making each caress more unbearable and delicious at the same time.

“Yes, bunny… fuck,” he growls, his raspy voice echoing in the lust-laden air. He abruptly removes his fingers from your pussy, which clenches desperately around the void, leaving you in an unbearable state of need. A feeling of frustration washes over you, almost painful, as you let out a pitiful whimper, your breathing ragged. 

Sunghoon brings his lips back to your pussy, his hot breath enveloping your intimacy, causing a wave of heat to run through you. He sniffs the sweet scent of your desire, an intoxicating scent that excites him, and a guttural moan escapes his throat, a bestial sound that makes you shudder. Your body reacts instinctively, wriggling on the table, trying to free yourself from his hold. But he grips your thighs tightly, his fingers digging into your tender flesh, crushing you against the cold surface of the wood.

“Don’t you even dare run away from me, fucking,” he growls, his voice husky, tinged with a delicious menace that makes you tingle with anticipation. His eyes shine with a dark glow, a mix of desire and dominance. Before you can protest, he lowers himself, his lips finding their way to your clit. His mouth opens, his teeth gently nibbling at the sensitive flesh, and a cry of pleasure escapes your lips, inescapable.

He releases his hold, his hands slowly sliding down your thighs, caressing your soft, warm skin as you lie on the table. His fingers explore every inch, delicately brushing your flesh before stopping just above your pussy, where anticipation is skyrocketing. His hands tremble slightly, betraying the palpable arousal emanating from him, as he wraps his lips around your sex. The taste of your skin, mixed with your arousal, nearly drives him mad with desire.

His mouth opens, and you can feel his hot breath on your intimate part, like a delicious prelude to what he is about to do. Sunghoon begins to devour you with an insatiable hunger, his movements languid and deliberate. Each pressure of his lips and tongue makes you shudder with pleasure, as if each caress is a promise of what is to come.

His gaze is hungry, an animalistic glint in his eyes, like a predator about to devour its prey. You feel his nose brush gently against your clit, each touch causing an electric shiver that runs through you from head to toe. He drinks in you, his tongue acting like an agile snake, sliding between your lips, exploring every corner of your sex, delighting in your arousal without any restraint. The warmth of his tongue, soft and firm, combined with the pressure of his lips, creates an almost surreal sensation, a sensory experience that you can't do without.

Moans escape your lips, an involuntary, uncontrollable sound, echoing the intensity of the pleasure that invades you. Each movement of his tongue seems to ignite the nerves of your body, each lick causing waves of heat that envelop you like a blanket of pleasure. You feel the tension rising inside you, a wave of intense desire pulsing between your thighs. Tears begin to flow from your eyes, salty drops mixed with ecstasy, while your mouth, wide open in pleasure, lets out drool, proof of your total surrender to the sensation.

Suddenly, he thrusts his tongue deep into your pussy, which tightens around him, welcoming that hot member with desperate greed. Each movement is a wild dance, his tongue exploring the wet walls of your sex, tracing circles, diving into you with voracious determination. The delicious friction he creates with his tongue, moving with mastered expertise, makes your pleasure rise to an almost unbearable level. His movements are rhythmic, like a melody that vibrates every fiber of your being, an intoxicating mix of desire and ecstasy.

Sunghoon swirls his tongue against your walls, his heat and wetness consuming you as he seeks to penetrate you not only physically, but emotionally as well. The intensity of his tongue, coupled with the pressure of his lips, makes you cry out in pleasure, a cry that resonates in the room, an echo of your surrender. His lips are pressed firmly against your flesh, and he begins to suck, drinking in every drop of your arousal. The sound of his mouth working on your sex, a mixture of sucking and moans, becomes a haunting melody that resonates in the hot air around you.

The moans of pleasure he lets out vibrate in your pussy, resonating like a dark and seductive melody that makes you lose your mind. This primal noise, similar to that of an animal on the hunt, takes you even further into ecstasy. You are so absorbed in what he is doing to you that everything else disappears, leaving only the adrenaline and the feeling of his body against yours. Each lick is like a promise, a declaration of his unquenchable desire for you.

You're completely at his mercy, your body reacting to every movement, every caress of his relentlessly exploring tongue. Your stomach twists in pleasure, the pressure building, pushing you towards a climax you know is imminent. Each pulse of pleasure turns into a dance of bursting sensations, preparing you for the final explosion.

He continues to play with your body, his movements becoming more frantic as he senses you are close to the end. The way he devours you is both rough and delicate, as if he is trying to break you and rebuild you at the same time. Each lick seems to take you higher, a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes you cry out his name, a desperate chant echoing through the room.

“Harder,” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking with ecstasy, but he doesn’t just obey. He intensifies his efforts, his tongue delving deeper into your intimacy, while his fingers, now skilled, come to strike your clitoris with disconcerting precision. The combination of his movements, the heat of his tongue and the pressure of his fingers makes you teeter on the edge. The overstimulation becomes almost unbearable. You try to push his head back from between your thighs, but he clings to you with a savage determination, diving even deeper into your flesh.

Your screams escape your lips, strangled, inarticulate, as you lose all control. Your eyes roll back, and the sensation is so strong that you feel like you're floating above your body, about to explode into a thousand pieces. His pace becomes frantic, each movement of his tongue and lips taking you further into an ocean of pleasure.

Finally, he pulls away, but not without one last lick that makes you shiver. He has that mischievous smile on his lips, a mix of conquest and insatiable desire. He drinks in the sight of your exhausted body on the table, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. His fingers slide along your skin, caressing your curves with an almost brutal delicacy, as if he’s savoring the way you’re completely his, vulnerable and exposed.

Jake, who had been watching the spectacle unfold before him, approaches you with a seductive presence, his movements fluid and calculated. He lifts you into his arms, holding you against him with a reassuring strength, as if he possesses you entirely. The heat of his body warms you as you let yourself go, your head resting on his chest. You can feel the rhythm of his heart, beating like a drum in the heavy silence of the room. A palpable feeling of excitement takes hold of you.

“You did so well, darling,” he murmurs softly, his breath warm against your skin, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He leads you to your room, the air heavy with desire wrapping around you like a thick blanket. With each step, you already feel the weight of your body relax, as if sleep were insistently claiming you. A sweet torpor settles in as he lays you down on the bed, and you feel yourself slowly slipping into a dreamlike state, on the border between reality and illusion.

“So, are you taking her ass or her pussy?” Sunghoon asks, his voice laced with provocation, like a venomous snake. His fingers explore the supple flesh of your thigh, brushing against your skin with a calculated delicacy that sets you ablaze. His eyes lock on Jake, a silent challenge weaving between them, an electric tension that makes the air vibrate around you.

“Her pussy, I want her full of me,” Jake replies, his smile widening, revealing a mix of possessiveness and insatiable desire. He licks his lips, an animalistic glint in his eyes, like a predator ready to devour its prey. “You can have her pussy after, if you want. After all, we have a whole life with her,” he says, his words sounding like a perverse promise, watching your face, already drenched in sweat, your heartbeat quickening under his gaze.

Sunghoon sneers, a note of teasing in his tone, but his voice hides an underlying threat. He cups your face in his hand, and you slowly open your eyes, emerging from your semi-conscious state. “Rabbit, this is not the time to sleep. We’re not done with you yet,” he says, his voice sweet as poisoned honey, but there’s a brutal determination underneath, holding you captive to their desire.

“Hoon… Jake,” you whisper, your voice hoarse betraying the fatigue that’s washing over you. “I’m so tired.” Your voice almost trails off, but the excitement pulses in the air, a wild, unquenchable pulse.

“Mom, let us do everything,” Jake says, gently stroking your sweat-slicked hair. His gaze grows intense as he turns to Sunghoon, a silent exchange of complicity that makes you shiver. Sunghoon lifts your body with unsettling ease, while Jake slides underneath you, resting you delicately on his chest. A small moan escapes your lips at the contact, a wave of pleasure coursing through you like an electric current.

Jake positions his cock at the entrance of your overstimulated pussy, the heat of his body igniting you. Suddenly, he penetrates you deeply. A soft cry escapes your mouth, mixed with a delicious surprise that makes you lose all your bearings. The sensation is both sweet and brutal, a delicate dance between pleasure and pain. You feel a visceral connection, each movement bringing him a little closer to your own loss of control. Jake tenderly caresses your back, his breath hot against your skin, as he stops for a moment, savoring the embrace of your body trembling beneath him.

He lifts your upper body, removing the garment with unsettling ease, revealing your skin to the dim light of the room. Sunghoon, now naked, moves behind you. His cold hands gently spread the cheeks of your ass, causing a shiver that makes you involuntarily pull back, sliding down onto Jake's cock. You both moan at the contact, the heat of your bodies flaring in a mixture of unspoken desires and animalistic urges.

Sunghoon tightens his grip on you, his fingers digging into your flesh with an almost painful intensity, a veiled threat. He can feel the arousal that is invading you, your hole already well prepared by the heat of your pussy. The mixture of your own wetness and the arousal of your previous ejaculation creates a fertile ground for him. In one movement, he enters you with force, and you let out a muffled cry, a combination of pleasure, surprise and a hint of pain that sends you to a dizzying peak.

They both begin to move inside you with calculated slowness, like choreographers of a carefully orchestrated erotic dance. The room is filled with desire, the dim lighting accentuating the shadows of their moving bodies. You are leaning over Jake's body, the heat of his skin against yours reminding you of your vulnerability. Every fiber of your being is at their mercy, making you both feverish and hungry for pleasure, a mixture of anticipation and excitement consuming you.

Your hands grip the bars of the bed, the cold, hard metal contrasting with the burning anxiety that invades you. Your white knuckles bear witness to the excitement and tension that overwhelms you, as you feel Jake's gaze on you, the mix of possessiveness and desire in his eyes electrifying you. Each thrust that Sunghoon sinks into your ass is a dance between pain and pleasure, each movement making you moan in desperation and need, your body bending to their imperious desires.

Jake, with determined strength, lifts his hips, pushing deeper into you, literally breaking you with his relentless assaults. His member hits your inner walls, each impact creating a sweet pain mixed with immeasurable pleasure. You feel his hot, rapid breath on the back of your neck, each exhale caressing you like a promise of what is to come, creating a palpable tension between you. “You are so perfect,” he murmurs, his deep voice resonating in the air heavy with desire and anguish, like a curse enveloping you.

“Fuck… her ass is so tight,” Sunghoon blurts out, his voice laced with palpable greed. He pushes deeper, every movement a declaration of his possession. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, marking your skin with his imprints, holding you captive in this position of surrender. You can feel the pressure of his hands, the mixture of pain and arousal, as your eyes mist over with the intensity of the sensations, tears of pleasure and frustration beading your lashes as you lose your footing in this ocean of delight.

Your body, subjected to this double invasion, demands more, eager to be filled and devastated. The contrast between pain and pleasure becomes intoxicating, enveloping you in a dark veil of desire. Jake, with a mischievous smile, begins to leave burning kisses along the nape of your neck, his soft and warm lips sliding over your skin, each touch awakening shivers of pleasure. Each kiss quickly turns into a bite, his mouth becoming hungrier, more cruel. He sucks your skin fervently, leaving behind red marks, witnesses to his insatiable desire.

“I’m going to anchor myself into your skin,” he breathes in a whisper as his teeth sink into your flesh, a mixture of pain and pleasure resonating through every cell of your body. You let out a shrill cry as his teeth sink into your skin, each bite exacerbating the ecstasy you feel. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, pain combining with pleasure in a symphony of sensations. You are completely at their mercy, a puppet in this obscene game of domination.

Sunghoon kisses your skin with deliberate slowness, his warm lips trailing over your shoulder blade before biting into your flesh, a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes you shudder. Each thrust he gives you is harder than the last, his strength propelling you forward, pushing you deeper onto Jake’s cock, which is just below. You feel a growing tension in your stomach as he thrusts into you, each movement echoing like unfulfilled desires. His hips slam against yours with a brutality that makes you lose all control.

The way Sunghoon thrusts into you, with a bestial insistence, makes a wave of incredible arousal rise in you. And you feel Jake's movements reach your G-spot, and a loud strangled moan escapes your lips, each sound you make resonating in the room like a hymn to pleasure. In that moment, you are overwhelmed by intense sensations, a whirlwind of arousal that consumes you. As you tighten around them, you feel an incredible fusion of bodies, a connection that goes far beyond simple physicality.

Sunghoon grips your hair with a force that makes you blush, tugging firmly to separate you from Jake. He forces you to face him, pressing you against him, his hot, wet breath caressing your ear, adding an extra dimension to the intensity of this moment. “Fuck… you’re incredible,” he growls, his husky voice vibrating with voracious desire as he sucks on your earlobe with such intensity that you feel your heart racing. “I can never walk away from you again, ever.”

His lips slide slowly down your neck, relishing the marks Jake has left on your skin. Each kiss is charged with passion, and he seems to feed off your desire. The heat of his body, mixed with his own and Jake's, completely envelops you, making you vibrate with pleasure. Hearing his breath quicken, you begin to move on Jake, your hips undulating almost instinctively. With each thrust, you push Sunghoon deeper, feeling the ecstasy turn into an explosion of sensations.

Sunghoon attacks the flesh of your unmarked neck, sucking your skin with a passion that leaves you speechless, his tongue sliding over your sweat. He bites without any restraint, and a strangled cry escapes from your mouth, a delicious fusion of pain and pleasure. The brutality of their assaults overwhelms you, leaving you completely lost in this ocean of sensations, your mind evaporating in the heat of the moment. Each movement, each caress, each bite makes you capsize a little more in this indescribable debauchery.

You are completely at their mercy, your senses on high alert, a mixture of wild pleasure and animal instinct. Sunghoon continues to alternate between bites and burning kisses, his gestures becoming more and more greedy. You completely lose your mind, your body reacting without thinking.

Your thoughts fade away, replaced by a visceral need for more, more. Their bodies move together, creating a primal rhythm that pushes you closer to ecstasy. Their breaths mix in the hot, humid air, each moan, each cry intertwining in a melody of desire and satisfaction. The combination of their bodies, their movements, their caresses pushes you to the edge, and you know you're about to explode.

Jake straightens up, a smirk on his lips as he leans down to your breasts, his hot lips settling on your nipple. He sucks, nibbles, and pulls with his teeth, making your body vibrate with intense pleasure. You can feel every movement, every squeeze, like an electric shock running through your skin. Your moans escape, flooding the air with your sensuality as he begins to fondle the other breast with his hand, his fingers roaming and gently pinching the tip. You grip his hair tightly, gasps of pleasure escaping your mouth as your vision blurs, carried away by this wave of arousal.

“Please, Jake… Hoon,” you whisper between sobs, your voice trembling betraying your insatiable desire. Sunghoon’s cold hands explore your ass with perverse delicacy, his nails clawing at your flesh, occasionally digging into your skin with a force that makes you shudder. Each touch makes you writhe in pleasure, a mixture of anxiety and excitement that takes hold of your throat. He spreads your ass cheeks, his gaze shining with animal lust as he watches how your ass swallows his cock, pulling back slightly to gaze at your still spread hole, quivering with anticipation.

“Hoon… please, I need you,” you beg, your pleading voice echoing in the warm air of the room. He chuckles behind you, a sound full of desire, before spitting into your ass, the warm wetness seeping in as your hole begins to close. Saliva drips inside, making you shiver as you feel the warm, lubricating sensation, like a promise of what’s to come.

“Fuck, you need me so bad, bunny,” he growls, slapping your ass so hard that heat seizes your skin, a delicious pain that makes you jump on Jake’s cock. His size distorts your stomach, every movement of his body entering you resonating like a drum, a throbbing heat beating inside you like a racing heart. “You’ve become such a slut for us, Y/n, and I love it,” he continues, grabbing your jaw to turn your face to his. His gaze is wild, fierce, like a predator preparing to seize its prey.

He presses his lips to yours, a hot, possessive kiss as he pushes himself back into your ass, moaning into your mouth. You feel his tongue slide against yours, a mixture of saliva and desire enveloping your bodies. He bites your bottom lip, his hand sliding down your body, exploring every curve with uninhibited expertise. You open your mouth for him, allowing him to slide deeper, letting his tongue infiltrate, exploring your insides as if he were trying to possess you completely.

He tugs on your hair, tilting your head down, forcing you into an uncomfortable position that makes you moan softly. Each tug of his fingers reminds you of how much you are at his mercy. He swallows the sound of your moan without a care, and you begin to suck his tongue like it was his cock, enjoying the incredible sensation. His grunts of pleasure echo in your head, an intoxicating melody that makes you vibrate even more. He loves it, letting you do it, allowing you to lose a little control, as you moan into his mouth.

He releases your hair to grab the back of your neck, pushing his tongue deep into your throat, forcing your mouth open to accommodate what seems like a torrent of pleasure. A gurgle escapes your throat, proof that you are completely at his mercy. He slowly pulls away from your lips, his eyes locked on yours, glassy and filled with an insatiable desire, as if he were ready to do anything to take more of you.

Drool connects your lips, a testament to the intensity of this exchange, this raw passion. Jake thrusts deeper into you, each thrust making you moan at the top of your lungs, your body writhing under his control. The sensation is devastating, a whirlwind of arousal and desire that sweeps you into a wild dance. Each movement becomes a struggle for control, a symphony of pleasure and pain, the sounds of flesh colliding, moans escaping, resonating like an ode to your unbridled passion.

Sunghoon, behind you, holds you tightly, his hands maintaining a grip on your hips, guiding your movements to match Jake’s and his own. He leans close to your ear, whispering words barely audible, but loaded with insatiable desire. “You’re so beautiful when you lose yourself like that,” he says, his husky voice inflaming you even more. You know he’s watching you, attentive to every reaction, every sigh you let out.

The unbearable heat building in your lower abdomen becomes a crushing pressure, making you squirt violently onto Jake’s cock. The orgasm sweeps you away in a wave of indescribable pleasure, a raw drive that surges like a tsunami over every inch of your skin. You feel your muscles contract around him, engulfing his manhood with uncontrollable greed. Yet even in this embrace of ecstasy, he doesn’t slow his pace. On the contrary, he intensifies his assaults, each thrust penetrating deeper into you, sinking with a bestial fervor that vibrates every fiber of your being.

You try to pull away, to run away from this overwhelming feeling that consumes you, but each quick and violent thrust of Sunghoon behind you only pushes you further onto Jake's cock, locking you in a whirlwind of inescapable pleasure. You feel trapped between their bodies, prisoner in a fiery and desperate dance, where each movement makes you lose your mind. Your mind fogs, invaded by an ocean of chaotic sensations, and you start to stammer, drooling with abandon, your will melting under the assault of pleasures.

“It’s… too much, please… a break,” you manage to utter, your shaky voice trailing off into a sob of frustration and desire. Every contraction of your body makes you vibrate, every movement pushing you deeper into this sea of ​​ecstasy that only intensifies. But they don’t stop.

Jake, with fierce determination, grabs you by the hair, maintaining direct contact with your gaze. His eyes, dark and bright with an animal fire, anchor themselves in yours, misted with tears of pleasure and pain, reminding you that you are entirely at his mercy. In this moment, you are aware of your power, but also of your total vulnerability.

“No breaks, baby,” he growls, his voice thick with raw desire. He lifts his hips, slamming harder against yours, each movement resonating inside you like an electric shock. You feel each thrust tearing at the line between pleasure and pain, his cock forcing its way inside you with such force that you feel like your body is going to break. “You’re going to take it all like a good girl,” he whispers, his words echoing in your mind, mingling with the delicious pain of his intrusion. It’s a command, but also a promise, a subtle threat that makes you shudder with anticipation.

He lowers your head, brushing his lips against yours, and you moan in anticipation, aware of what is to come. His eyes, full of unspoken promises, bore into yours, and you feel a shiver of excitement run through your body. When he kisses you, it is with a devouring passion, an animalistic ardor that consumes you entirely. His lips crush against yours, an insistent pressure, as he approaches you with a burning intensity. His saliva mixes with yours, creating a thick and sweet mixture, almost like a nectar that bewitches you.

He presses your lips even closer to his, as if he were trying to merge with you, to absorb you into his voracity. Your body is on fire, a devastating flame that consumes everything in its path. The heat of his tongue tangles with yours, curling, exploring, sinking deeper and deeper, each movement intensifying the ecstasy. The movements of his tongue are brutal and eager, driving the air from your lungs with each caress.

His lips, wet and slippery from your saliva, don’t break the contact. Quite the opposite, it intensifies the urgency of your embrace. He tugs at your hair with desperate need, his fingers digging into your mane as if to keep you close to him. The pain of his tugging electrifies you, making you moan even more, and he takes advantage of it, gently nibbling on your tongue, increasing the heat of your desire. Each bite is a mix of gentleness and dominance, leaving you panting and eager, as if each bite awakens a wild beast within you.

The strength of his grip, the intensity of his kiss, everything about him makes you understand how much he wants to possess you entirely. The beating of your heart echoes in your ears, and you feel a primal urge awakening in you. He explores your mouth with an insatiable voracity, as if it were the last kiss of his life. His movements are more and more ardent, his tongue searching every corner of your mouth, each caress causing waves of pleasure that intensify with each second.

Your moans grow deeper, more desperate, and he meets your need with renewed intensity. His lips move over your face, tracing hot trails, slowly descending your neck as he leaves light bites on your skin, as if to mark his territory. The sensation is both delicious and painful, each tingle fueling the fire that awakens within you.

He returns to your mouth, and this time, he kisses you more wildly, his saliva flowing freely between you, each contact creating a slobbery and intimate mush that reinforces the intensity of your connection. You lose yourself completely in this dance, each beat of your heart, each breath, each moan mixing with him. The exchange becomes more bestial, more unleashed, as he shows you how hungry he is for you.

Behind you, Sunghoon doesn’t hold back. His rhythm becomes more and more wild, each thrust resonating inside your body, gripping you, making you capsize even more in this abyss of pleasure. The thrusts of his cock dig into you with such force that you feel your body bend under the impact, a symphony of contradictory sensations that blinds you. The way he holds you, the force of his hands on your hips, only adds to the electric tension that settles between you. Each thrust of his cock crushes you against Jake’s, creating a whirlwind of pleasure that eclipses everything else.

You feel their thrusts becoming more and more disordered as time passes, the frenzy of their desire reaching an unbearable climax. The room echoes with the sounds of their arousal, a raw echo of panting breaths and bestial moans. Jake, still deep inside you, caresses your clitoris with incredible precision, his agile fingers exploring this sensitive area with a cruel tenderness that makes you lose all notion of time. The intensity of his movements plunges you into an ocean of pleasure, an irresistible wave that carries you away and submerges you, crushing you under the weight of passion and desire.

Every touch of his burning skin makes your body vibrate in a symphony of sensations, a wild melody that you can't ignore. You feel your orgasm looming again on the horizon, inevitable, like a storm ready to break. You are on the edge of the precipice, an unbearable tension rising in you, ready to explode with every movement. The rise of pleasure is exquisite, each caress pulling you a little more towards nothingness.

Suddenly, his body tenses, a guttural groan escaping his lips. His hot, viscous seed spills into you, filling every corner of your being. You feel every drop as it floods through you, a warmth flooding your insides, making you shudder with pleasure. Your body pulsing around him as you cum at the same time as him, you are overwhelmed by an indescribable sensation, an explosion of heat that resonates through every fiber of your being, a surge of ecstasy that sweeps you away.

Your sex clenches around his cock, absorbing every second of this ecstatic pleasure. You are swept away in a whirlwind of sensations, a chaos of pleasure that envelops you entirely. Jake's movements have become frantic, a mixture of raw desire and animal need. His gaze is hungry, almost possessive, as if he is marking you with his imprint.

Soon after, Sunghoon lets out a moan of pleasure, a primal sound that vibrates the air. You feel his body contract behind you as he comes in your ass. The heat of his cum invades your body, each hot drop mixing with Jake's, making you shudder even more as you feel completely filled. A feeling of accomplishment washes over you, a mixture of pleasure and submission that envelops you in a cocoon of ecstasy.

Sunghoon and Jake maneuver you with almost all-consuming attention, their bodies pressing against yours as they gently place you in the middle of them. Sunghoon lies behind you, buried deep inside you, but he remains still, savoring every second of this possession. His strong hands slide down your sweaty back, leaving a trail of heat where his fingers pass. Each touch is a promise, each caress a reminder of his desire for you. He kisses your shoulder tenderly, a gesture both possessive and protective, as if he wants to protect you from anything that could hurt you.

“You’re mine,” he whispers in a husky breath, his words echoing in the air heavy with passion. The intensity of his gaze, burning with desire and adoration, makes you shudder, but at the same time, a shadow hovers in his eyes, a desperate need to keep you close to him, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

Jake, still in front of you, is buried deep inside you. His cock is still, but you know he’s relishing every shiver you feel. He searches your face, his eyes latching onto every expression, every moan you let out. ��I want you to feel everything I feel for you,” he says, his voice vibrating with emotion. His fingers brush your face, sliding along your cheeks with an almost frightening delicacy, as if he’s afraid of breaking this perfect moment. The tenderness of his gesture contrasts with the ardor of his desire.

You feel consumed by their attention, by the intensity of their love. They hold you tightly, but there’s a gentleness to their hold, a way of making you feel both vulnerable and incredibly wanted. Sunghoon kisses the back of your neck, his warm breath making you shiver. “I want you to always be here, mine,” he whispers, his tone both tender and desperate. It’s a declaration of obsession, but also a wish for deep connection.

“Never walk away,” Jake adds, his eyes fixed on you, filled with palpable need. His hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours, as if to remind you that he’ll never let you go. Each touch is charged with intense emotion, a mixture of sweetness and possession that consumes you.

A wave of emotion washes over you as you realize the depth of their desire. Every moan, every sigh, every word whispering your name is a declaration of love and obsession. “You’re my everything,” Jake finally says, his voice rising in confession, almost like a prayer. “I can’t live without you.”

Minutes turn into hours, and you’re completely overwhelmed by this connection. Their warmth envelops you, and you feel both safe and captive to their desire. Sunghoon, behind you, begins to move slowly, each thrust a mix of gentle and rough, as if he wants to make you understand how much he wants you, how much he needs you. “I want you to feel what I feel,” he says, his voice trembling with passion. “I want you to be mine, completely.”

The outside world fades away as you’re enveloped in their love. Jake leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, his movements both tender and hungry. It’s a mix of animal desire and sweetness, a perfect fusion that makes you lose track of time. “Never let me go,” you whisper between kisses, and those words seem to seal a pact between you.

The heat of their bodies mixes with yours, creating an unbearable heat that pushes you to completely surrender to this embrace. Sunghoon and Jake melt into you, and you feel like you become an extension of their desire. Every moan, every breath, every whisper of adoration that escapes their lips strengthens this intimate connection that transcends simple pleasure.

Finally, exhausted by this all-consuming passion, you fall asleep in their arms, their bodies intertwined with yours. The night wears on, but you feel incredibly lucky to be at the center of their world, a bond of love and obsession, a promise of eternity that nothing can ever tarnish.

You step into the elevator, your mind still cluttered by your day, just hoping to get home quickly. But as the door begins to close, a large, firm hand suddenly blocks it. You look up, and the door opens to reveal Jay and Heeseung, their knowing gazes scanning you with an intensity that tightens your stomach. You swallow in spite of yourself, the air already becoming more oppressive in the confined space. A sigh escapes you as you step back to give them room.

They climb silently, but you can feel their presence invading you, like a threatening shadow, their dense energy intruding into every corner of the elevator. Their bodies are close, too close, and their gazes don't leave you for a second. They undress you with their gaze, and no matter how stubbornly you stare at the floor sign, your heart beats faster and faster.

Time seems to stretch as you mentally count the remaining floors. Five more… But just before the fourth one appears, Heeseung deliberately presses a stop button. The elevator makes an ominous clicking sound before stopping mid-ascent, stuck between two levels.

“Heeseung! What the hell are you doing?” you spit, frustration marking your voice. The space seems to shrink all at once, crushing you under palpable tension. “Why did you stop that fucking elevator?”

Before you can get away, you find yourself back against the metal wall. The cold of the surface cuts through the fabric of your dress and makes you shiver. Jay and Heeseung stand right in front of you, blocking you completely, their imposing silhouettes leaving no escape. You try to ignore them, but they tower over you, their presence becoming stifling.

Jay approaches slowly, a twisted smile on his lips. “Because you’re avoiding us, and we don’t like it,” he murmurs, his raspy voice chilling and warming you at the same time. “You had a good time with Hoon and Jake, right? Now it’s our turn. And trust me, you owe us that.”

Before you can protest, his hand slides over your chest with calculated slowness, skimming your curves with raw possessiveness. The contact makes you arch your back involuntarily. His warm palm crushes further against your flesh, pressing with obscene firmness. You gasp, your breath breaking into small, uncontrolled gasps.

Jay leans down to you, his nose brushing the line of your neck. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent. “Fuck…” he growls against your skin, his voice vibrating with animalistic desire. “You smell so good… it’s gonna drive me crazy.”

Before you can react, his hands become more greedy, gripping your body without restraint, as if he had waited too long for this moment. He yanks at the fabric of your dress, tearing it effortlessly. The sound of the fabric tearing echoes violently in the silence.

“Jay! My dress!” you protest, your voice shaking, but not with anger. Something else is rising inside you, something more dangerous and unspeakable.

He chuckles, his fingers brushing over your bare skin exposed beneath the torn dress. “We’ll get you more,” Heeseung replies, his voice low and quiet, almost menacing in its softness. He steps forward, grabbing your chin in a firm grip to force your gaze to meet his.

Meanwhile, Jay continues his exploration, his hot mouth crushing against your neck. His teeth bite your skin with raw greed, leaving red marks on your epidermis. You shiver under the assault, unable to mask the reactions your body betrays.

Heeseung stares at you, his dark gaze filled with a silent promise. “More beautiful dresses, more expensive ones… Anything you want, sweetheart.” His lips press against yours, capturing your breath in a rough, demanding kiss.

He nibbles at your bottom lip with calculated precision, just enough to make you moan. Your moan becomes his invitation, and he takes advantage of it to slide his tongue into your mouth, probing with torrid slowness. His fingers close around your jaw, stilling you as he pushes deeper, tasting every corner of your mouth.

His hand slides into your hair, tugging with a firmness that draws another moan from you. Your head tilts back, exposing your neck to Jay, who continues to mark it with bites and kisses. Heeseung increases the pressure on your lips, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours with brutal precision.

The elevator seems to disappear around you, leaving only the suffocating heat of their bodies pressed against yours. Their caresses are merciless, controlled but imbued with a latent savagery. Jay slides his hands over your thighs, slowly moving up, his fingers tracing insidious circles on your bare skin, as if to test each shiver he provokes.

Heeseung finally pulls away from your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. He looks down at you, his dark eyes searching your face ravaged by desire. “I will give you everything your heart desires. Say it, and it will be yours.” Before you can answer, he places a series of hungry kisses on your already swollen lips.

Jay pulls the fabric of your panties to the side with palpable impatience, revealing your already glistening pussy. His fingers, warm and firm, slide over your swollen lips, spreading them just enough to appreciate how ready you are to be taken. A wicked smile plays on his lips as he watches your reaction. With a quick movement, he rids himself of his pants, his gaze burning with desire consuming you like a flame. His eyes sparkle with an almost animalistic greed, and you can feel his palpable arousal in the tension-laden air, a mixture of anxiety and desire that makes your heart race.

Without a word, he lifts you up with disconcerting ease, placing you against the wall of the elevator. The coldness of the metal against your bare skin creates a stark contrast to the warmth of his body, and your head tilts back slightly, revealing your delicate neck. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, your heart racing as adrenaline pulses through your veins. His hands are already exploring your body greedily, his fingers tracing paths of fire across your skin, each caress awakening sensations within you like a treasure to be unwrapped.

His cock, hard and throbbing, immediately finds its way to your entrance. With a sharp thrust, he enters you, drawing a muffled moan from you that resonates in the narrow space. The sensation is raw and visceral, a collision of pent-up desires. Your body tenses around him, every inch adjusting to the thick, irreverent intrusion. Jay growls against your neck, his hot breath mingling with your scent as he remains still, buried deep inside you, savoring the tight embrace of your sex that keeps him prisoner. Each second stretches out in delicious torture, ecstasy and pain mingling in a wild dance.

Heeseung slowly approaches to stand behind you, his massive presence making you shiver in anticipation. The musky scent of his body mixes with the sweet scent of arousal, intoxicating your senses. He presses his chest against your back, his heat radiating against you as he grips one of your ass cheeks firmly, spreading it to further expose your already taken intimacy. You know something inevitable is about to happen, and the thought makes you shiver with desire.

“You take it good, huh… But I’m gonna fill you up even more, sweetheart.” His voice is a husky whisper, laden with filthy promises, and you shiver at his words, each syllable vibrating with perverse undertones. You feel him press the tip of his cock against your tight entrance, just above where Jay is buried deep inside you. Your breath hitches, and your body instinctively contracts around Jay, making him squeeze even tighter inside you, like you’re two puzzle pieces that can’t be separated.

Jay lets out a low growl, his cock buried deep inside you. “Fuck, keep squeezing her like that and I won’t last long…” His tone is thick with desire, but his hips remain still, trapped in the promise of an imminent double penetration, a climax you crave.

“It’ll fit.” Heeseung whispers the words into your ear, his hand slowly moving up your stomach, holding you firmly against him. “Don’t worry… Let me do it, I’ll force you to take it all.” His cock presses against you insistently, slowly sinking in. The pressure is unbearable, every movement making you feel like your body is going to give in under the invasion. Your breath catches in your throat, beads of sweat sliding down your skin, making you even more vulnerable, like a ripe fruit waiting to be picked.

He pushes harder this time, and you moan loudly as the head of his cock finally passes, creating a point of no return. A wave of burning heat surges through you, a mixture of pain and pleasure, as Heeseung continues to move forward, slowly but inexorably. His cock rubs against Jay's, trapped in your body too tight for both of them. Each brush tears you with uncontrolled moans, stretching you to the point of no return, your body submitting to their desires without any resistance, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Your body trembles, unable to fully adjust to this double invasion. “Fuck…” Jay breathes as he leans towards you, his lips catching the tears that are starting to flow down your cheeks. The contact is soft, almost tender, in total contrast to the brutality of what they are doing to you. The movement of his mouth against your skin pushes him deeper into you, crushing his cock against Heeseung’s. The grunts of the two men echo in the narrow space of the elevator, synchronized with your strangled moans.

Heeseung, however, doesn’t let up. “Fuck, you’re taking it so well… Look how you’re taking it.” His hand moves down between your thighs, his fingers tracing slow circles on your clitoris, intensifying each sensation already amplified by their domination. Anguish and pleasure intertwine within you, enveloping you in an insatiable whirlwind. Each brush of his hand sends electric waves through your lower abdomen, intensifying the tension you feel, making each beat of your heart even more desperate.

“Shit, Hee… I… I can’t…” you stammer, a note of panic creeping into your voice, but they don’t listen. Heeseung thrusts a little harder, his pelvis slapping against your ass with each thrust, anchoring his presence deeper, filling you with a sensation that’s both beautiful and overwhelming. Jay follows suit, thrusting sharply and calculatedly, synchronizing each thrust with his partner’s, each assault echoing like an erotic melody in the confined space.

Their cocks fill you to the point of obsession, sliding and rubbing against each other in this wet abyss that has become your body. You lose all sense of time, each sensation blurring the lines between what your body can handle and what it craves. Your stomach tightens, and you feel a new wave of tears fall, uncontrollable, but Jay is there, his lips following the furrow of your wet cheeks, swallowing each tear with disconcerting devotion.

“I want you to let go,” Jay whispers between moans, his eyes boring into yours, searching for connection amidst the filth. “Don’t think about anything but us, about what we’re doing to you.”

Heeseung and Jay intensify their thrusts, sinking deeper and deeper into you, your pussy bending to their will, as if it were made to accommodate them. Each penetration makes them sink deeper, and you feel the excitement build, your wetness dirtying Jay's pelvis, marking your wild and shameless union. The guttural grunts and moans that escape your lips mingle with the echo of the elevator, creating a perverse melody, full of desire, need, and pleasure that borders on ecstasy.

Heeseung slides his hand down your stomach, his warmth electrifying you. He bites your earlobe with a gentleness that quickly turns into a possessive bite, before his tongue trails down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His hand moves down eagerly, his fingers exploring your body, finding your swollen clit. He begins to rub it with delicious insistence, making it blush under his attention. Each movement makes your arousal rise, and you arch your back, pushing yourself further into Jay, who only sinks deeper, his thrusts becoming more intense and deep.

Jay growls, his teeth biting your lips with deliberate brutality, until the taste of blood mixes with the saliva in your mouths. You moan into his mouth, your heart racing as he devours your lips, pain and pleasure intertwining in a chaotic dance. The bite of his teeth on your tongue is both cruel and delicious, a choked cry escaping your throat, suppressed by his voracious kiss. He kisses you like his life depends on it, his tongue movements intensifying, and each caress awakens a burning fire within you, a consuming need that only grows stronger.

Heeseung, for his part, doesn’t just rub your clit; he intensifies his assault, his nimble fingers tracing circles on your delicate skin, while his hips slam into you with relentless regularity. His movements become frantic, each thrust resonating in your belly, a wild rhythm that makes you lose all control. The pressure intensifies, making you lose your mind a little more, and your pussy tenses around them, every inch of you adjusting to this thick intrusion, a mixture of exquisite pain and unmatched pleasure. You are caught between two fires, each movement bringing them a little closer to the climax of your union.

Their moans mingle with your heartbeat, creating a haunting symphony. Sweat runs down your skin, immersing you in this burning atmosphere of unquenchable desire. You feel a wave of heat rise within you, an unbearable pressure, as their bodies synchronize in an animal rhythm, joining forces to break you.

Jay slowly pulls his lips away from you, his dark eyes locked on yours, squinting with the intensity of their shared pleasure. Each moan that escapes your mouth becomes a cry of desperation and desire, echoing in the electrically charged air. Jay and Heeseung’s cocks pound into your pussy with unmatched fervor, each thrust sounding like a promise of tortured pleasure. “Keep screaming for us, babe. I want the whole neighborhood to hear how good we’re making you feel,” Jay growls, his voice husky with desire, a bittersweet melody that makes you shudder.

His lips wrap around your bare chest, kissing your soft skin with an almost carnivorous delight. He sucks on your tip, his agile tongue playing with you, sucking with such intensity that you completely lose track of time and space. Saliva drips from your parted mouth, a mixture of desire and debauchery, as each movement of their penetration makes you lose your footing, awakens burning sensations in you. You feel their cocks hit every corner of your body, and they finally hit your G-spot, triggering a wave of pleasure so intense that it carries you away like a tide.

The heat that invades your body becomes unbearable, almost painful, as you scream in pleasure, your cries echoing in the air. Your body trembles under their hold, letting you be carried away by this storm of sensations. An explosion of pleasure overwhelms you as you squirt violently on them, a hot jet that surprises them, making their cocks come out of your pussy, while your head leans back, resting on Heeseung's muscular shoulder. Your tongue lolling, your eyes squinting, you are completely at their mercy, every fiber of your being vibrating with desire and need.

Heeseung, with a perverse delicacy, leans his head towards you, his eyes shining with desire. His tongue caresses yours, his lips brushing your lower lip, then he plunges his tongue deep into your throat, swallowing your desperate gasps. Your breathing becomes more and more labored, but he does not care; he is captivated by the taste of your blood mixed with that of your saliva, a fusion of debauchery and passion. Your body, still pressed against theirs, is prisoner of their insatiable desire, and each blow, each movement brings them a little closer to your limit.

Finally, he pulls out of your mouth, leaving you panting, out of breath, and your body, exhausted but insatiable, gives in to ecstasy. Your face wears a dreamy expression, lost in a world where only their pleasure matters. Jay then leans towards you, and in an act of brutal domination, he spits in your mouth, the gesture both vulgar and intimate. Far from being reluctant, you swallow his saliva with disturbing obedience, savoring each drop like a gift, indulging in this euphoric and obscene state.

Heeseung, satisfied with your submission, walks away, leaving you in Jay's arms. The latter, still ardent, presses the button to restart the elevator, which resumes its path towards your apartment. The walls vibrate around you, silent witnesses to this unbridled scene. The door opens with a slight ringing, taking you out of your ecstatic trance. Jay, carrying you with disconcerting ease, brings you in front of your door, which Heeseung has opened using the key found in your bag, a palpable tension floating in the air.

Once inside, the dim lighting creates an atmosphere that is both warm and threatening. Jay gently places you on the couch, his hands exploring your skin still burning from their embrace. He leans down, his lips tracing their way along your stomach, lingering on every curve, every contour. Heeseung, standing behind him, watches you with a satisfied smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“We’re not done with you yet, baby,” he whispers as he steps closer, his hand sliding over your thigh, teasing every nerve in your body. Jay, his lips quivering with anticipation, slides his hands over your skin, leaning down to kiss you again, while Heeseung takes the time to devour you with his eyes, savoring every moment of your vulnerability.

Jay meets Heeseung’s gaze, a silent exchange charged with desire and defiance, a gaze that seems to imbue the room with an insidious heat. The atmosphere becomes electric, each breath echoing in the silence, creating a palpable tension that envelops your bodies like a thick mist. Jay leans towards you with disconcerting confidence, a predatory smile on his lips, as he gently pushes you onto the couch, his strong hands acting with an almost palpable determination.

Your back meets the soft cushion, but the softness is a stark contrast to the way he orders you to lie down, forcing you to submit to his desire. You feel a surge of excitement mixed with fear as your head tilts back, exposed and vulnerable, while he grabs your legs, spreading them completely apart with brutal ease. The dim lighting highlights every curve of your womanhood, every detail of your naked body revealing a raw vulnerability.

A shiver runs down your spine as you realize you’re completely at his mercy, your heart pounding. A mixture of fear and excitement washes over you, setting you on fire from the inside, every fiber of your being vibrating with anticipation. Jay wastes no time; with disconcerting brutality, he rips your panties apart, the sound of the ripping fabric echoing through the room like a prelude to what’s to come. A gasp escapes your lips, almost involuntary, as your head fills with a wild desire, awakened by the brutal intrusion.

Jay positions himself between your legs, his hungry and voracious gaze exploring every corner of your intimate parts. He leaves no room for hesitation; his hands become active, his fingers sinking into you with unexpected force, ignoring any form of restraint. A wave of sensations overwhelms you as he begins to finger you, each movement an exquisite mix of gentle and rough. Your moans escape your mouth, uncontrollable, as you remain there, legs spread, shaking under his relentless assault.

He increases his attack, slamming his palm against your pussy, his fingers sliding with unsettling mastery. The sensation is both delicious and overwhelming, leaving you on the edge between pleasure and pain. Ecstasy and pain intertwine, forming an intoxicating mix that leaves you completely addicted to his touch.

“Fuck… Jay,” you manage to utter, tears welling up in your eyes, an instinctive response to the intensity of the arousal that is overflowing inside you like an unstoppable torrent. But he doesn’t stop there. On the contrary, he intensifies his game, withdrawing his fingers and then pushing them back in roughly, slapping you in the process. The viscous sound of your arousal, like a wave crashing against the rocks, makes you shiver with shame mixed with pleasure. He focuses on spreading your arousal on your thighs, making you vulnerable, exposed in this obscene tableau that only a voyeur could appreciate.

Back at it, he pinches your intimate lips between his fingers, his movements becoming deeper, more insistent. The caress of his thumb on your clitoris is precise and disconcerting, each pressure bringing you closer to the edge. Your eyes roll back under the intensity of the approaching orgasm, your moans becoming almost desperate. You bring your fist to your lips to stifle your complaints, but nothing works; they seem to amplify, resonating in the room like a chaotic melody of unquenchable desire.

Jay grips your hair, tilting your head back to force you to look into his eyes. His eyes are dark, burning with desire and control, as he begins to finger you slowly, as if he wants to capture every nuance of your pleasure. He gently spreads your pussy lips with two delicate fingers, letting his saliva flow inside, creating a mixture of wet and hot sensations that makes you shudder with desire. Your eyes lock with his, and you feel more and more vulnerable, exposed to his voracious desire.

He releases your hair, letting your head tilt back, leaving you at the mercy of his caresses, with no possibility of escape. In this position, you catch sight of Heeseung's gaze, who slowly approaches, a predatory smile on his lips, enjoying the spectacle of your delicious humiliation. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and excitement making you lose your train of thought.

“Hee… fuck, I can’t take it anymore,” you let out, your breath coming hard between moans, each word laden with need. You come hard on Jay’s fingers, the waves of pleasure washing over you. But he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, refusing to give you the respite you crave. The pulsing in your body becomes a silent scream, pushing you to the edge where pleasure and pain mix, merging into a whirlwind of emotions.

Jay pulls his fingers out of your pussy, soaked with the mixture of your wetness and your pleasure that continues to flow, a small, glistening stream sliding down your thigh, tracing a slick path that seems almost unreal. With a sudden movement, he slaps your pussy hard, a sharp sound echoing through the room, like a clap of thunder, which draws a groan of surprise and pleasure from you. A shock of electricity runs through your body, causing a wave of heat to invade your insides, leaving you panting and vulnerable.

The sensations mix as your liquid splashes, a few drops finding their way to his face, making him even more desirable in his provocative manner, as if he were a hunter savoring his prey. It’s almost intoxicating to watch him revel in your response, his smirk lighting up his face as he scrutinizes your euphoric state.

He sticks his tongue out to clean the drops of moisture from your pleasure that are on his lips and in the corners of his mouth, licking each drop greedily, delighting in your sweet taste. His eyes are fixed on you, filled with desire and domination, as if he is promising you an unforgettable experience. Then, he puts his fingers back on your pussy, making them dance on your engorged clitoris with incredible precision. His movements are both gentle and firm, playing with your pleasure like an artist with his canvas. The caresses become more and more insistent, each pressure on your clitoris making you vibrate, plunging you into an unprecedented euphoria.

He coats himself in your mixture, his fingers sliding in with disturbing ease, which he then brings to your parted lips, forcing you to taste your own pleasure. The sensation of your own taste on his fingers is both obscene and delicious, and you can't bring yourself to turn away from this reality.

“Suck and tell me what you taste like,” he orders, his husky voice filled with desire, every word turning into an irresistible urge. In that moment, you know you’re completely at his mercy. He pushes his fingers further down your throat, making you gurgle in muffled pleasure, the mixture of sensations sending you into a dizzying euphoria. Your mind goes awry as you begin to suck on his fingers, your tongue playing around them, savoring the musky scent of your own body, like a drug that fogs you up.

The heat intensifies as he plays with your tongue, caressing it, nipping at it with a treacherous softness, his eyes fixed on you with a voracious intensity that makes you shudder. Saliva accumulates on your face, mixing the moisture of your pleasure with the tears that run down your cheeks, creating a tableau that is both obscene and hypnotic. You are both the victim and the goddess of this moment, a mixture of pain and pleasure that makes your head spin.

Finally, he removes his fingers from your mouth, a satisfied smile lighting up his face, his gaze conquering, as if he had just scored a decisive point in a cruel game.

“So, is it good, honey?” Heeseung asks softly, standing right in front of you, his face close to yours, his hot breath caressing your skin. Everything seems blurry and upside down because of your position on the couch, your mind still numb from the pleasure. You hum, unable to speak, as he tenderly caresses your cheek, soaked in saliva and drool. The contact makes you moan in bliss under his scrutinizing gaze, your vulnerability making him even more desirable. His eyes shine with a feral light, each pulse of his gaze on you makes you shiver in anticipation, like prey under the gaze of a predator.

“How about we continue in the bedroom?” He barely finishes speaking when he lifts you into his arms, his warm body enveloping yours, making you feel as if you were safe in this storm. The feeling of his body against yours, powerful and protective, makes you lose all sense of time, every beat of his heart resonating within you. He gently places you on the bed, making sure that your head is suspended in the air, leaving you in a vulnerable and completely exposed position, like an offering to his thirst for power.

Heeseung stands in front of you, his eyes exploring your face completely ruined by desire, a conquering smile on his lips. Your eyes crinkle slightly, and he loves the sight, the apparent submission that makes his heart beat faster. The tension in the air is palpable, each second that passes making you yearn more.

Jay, finding himself between your legs, gently caresses your thighs, his fingers running over your skin with calculated slowness. Each shiver of his caress makes you yearn, the touch of his fingers burning on your sensitive skin. He lingers on your thighs, his fingers slowly sinking into your flesh, exploring every inch of your body, making you want more, drawing you into an abyss of obscene and delicious sensations.

He slowly removes his hand from your thigh, his palm still burning against your skin, creating a trail of heat as he lets his fingers slide gently before gripping his cock firmly. His breathing is raspy, each breath heavy with desire as he looks at you with an almost bestial intensity. His cock, swollen and glistening with pre-cum, approaches your pussy, already soaking wet, and he takes a malicious pleasure in making you languish. He doesn't enter you right away, preferring to make the wait last, rubbing his length against your intimate lips, his warm skin mixing with yours, spreading his pre-cum on your already wet folds. You feel each slow and controlled in and out, each slide, and your body responds instinctively, arching towards him, as if begging him to finally take you.

But Jay smiles, a cruel, dominating smile, knowing full well that you’re at his mercy. “You want more, don’t you?” he murmurs against your skin, his words a mix of taunt and promise. He continues to rub his cock against you, pressing just enough for you to feel the pressure without him actually entering you. The wetness pooling between you is almost obscene, and each slide sends a wave of hot pleasure through your lower belly, leaving you panting.

As you try to focus on what Jay is doing, Heeseung takes possession of your mouth with unexpected brutality. With a quick movement, he forces your mouth wider, and before you can react, he slides the head of his cock between your lips. The taste of his salty, taut skin immediately invades your tongue, forcing you to submit to his presence. You don't have time to adjust to the feeling as he pushes deeper, filling your mouth until the tip of his cock is almost to the back of your throat. Your eyes start to sting, and tears begin to form as you try to breathe between the imposing thrusts of his pelvis.

Your neck tenses, veins visible beneath your thin skin, every movement of your throat betraying your effort to take him all in. Heeseung watches with perverse satisfaction, his gaze fixed on your wet eyes, enjoying every second of your controlled strangulation. “Look at you…” he breathes hoarsely, as he begins to move faster, choking you with each thrust. “A real little slut at my mercy.” His words, loaded with dominance, make you shudder with pleasure despite the discomfort, and you feel your pussy contract in excitement under Jay’s provocations.

Sensing your complete submission, Jay resumes his caresses, his fingers gently brushing your lips before he pulls his cock from your folds, suddenly slamming it against your pussy with a thud. The shock makes you flinch, a muffled moan resonating in your throat already full of Heeseung's cock. Jay repeats the gesture, slamming his cock into your pussy, leaving red marks on your skin, before roughly entering you, in one stroke, without any restraint. His length sinks deep, nearly tearing you apart from the inside as you feel every inch of him, his thickness filling you entirely. You gasp around Heeseung's cock, your breath short and ragged, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

The first blow is sharp, brutal, and your body reacts immediately, arching under the impact, your stomach tightening as you try to accommodate Jay’s size. “Fuck, you’re squeezing so hard…” he grunts, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he holds you in place, preventing you from moving, from fleeing his assault. He begins to move his hips with relentless force, each thrust driving you deeper onto Heeseung’s cock, who controls you with icy firmness. 

Heeseung, in response, tightens his grip on your head, wrapping his fingers in your hair to force you to stay in place. “Breathe, if you can…” he whispers to you with a sadistic smile, choking you further with his length.

Jay continues to pound into your pussy, his thrusts brutal and precise, leaving you breathless each time. Your body is sandwiched between the two, used ruthlessly, each thrust of Jay pushing you deeper into Heeseung, who never lets up. The obscene sounds of bodies hitting each other, muffled moans and groans of pleasure fill the room. The dynamic between them is clear: they own you, control you, and you are at their mercy, a prisoner to their relentless desire.

Each of Jay's movements becomes harder, faster, each impact throwing you harder against Heeseung, who groans in satisfaction each time you take him deeper into your throat. Tears run down your cheeks, your breathing ragged, but despite the intensity, a wave of pleasure overwhelms you, your body responding in spite of yourself to this shared domination. Jay increases the pace, caressing your swollen belly with his cock before sliding a finger on your anus, without warning. You contract instinctively, but he doesn't slow down, taking pleasure in feeling your muscles tense under his fingers and his cock tearing you apart.

Heeseung slightly releases the pressure on your head, allowing you to take a breath of air before pushing you back down onto him, making you suffocate again. He watches every reaction, every tremor of your body with a sick pleasure, enjoying seeing you on the verge of breaking. “You’re going to beg us to stop, aren’t you?” His tone is mocking, domineering, knowing full well that you’re already broken in their hands.

The two continue their macabre dance, Jay taking you relentlessly, his cock slapping against you at a frantic pace, leaving you half-conscious from the assault. The room is filled with their moans of pleasure and your muffled moans, each sound a testament to the power dynamic that is taking hold, this dark dominance that keeps you under their total control.

The pace has lost none of its brutality as Heeseung pulls out with a wet smack, leaving your mouth swollen and your lips covered in drool and pre-cum. Jay, still deeply embedded in your pussy, handles you effortlessly, turning you around with a firm hand to place you on all fours on the bed soaked with fluids and sweat. He grabs you roughly by the hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessiveness that makes you moan, before diving back into you, his cock thrusting with a precision that takes your breath away.

The bed creaks under your wild movements as Jay increases his pace, his hips slamming hard against your ass, the impacts echoing through the room like a whip. You feel your thighs tremble under the relentless assault, your body buckling, submitting to each thrust. With each movement, his fingers slide from your hips to grip your hair, pulling back violently, forcing you to arch your back even more, exposing every inch of your skin to his voracious appetite. Your tongue hangs between your lips, trembling, unable to keep up as a strangled moan escapes your throat.

Heeseung, standing in front of you, watches with eyes burning with desire and dominance. He grips his cock with a firm hand, slowly sliding it over the tip of your tongue, dragging over the wet surface before pushing it between your swollen lips again. There is no gentleness in his movements. As soon as the tip reaches your mouth, he pushes without waiting, forcing his thick cock to penetrate even further than before, making you gag violently that you try desperately to control. Your eyes fill with tears as you struggle to breathe, but Heeseung holds you tight, his fingers tightening around your jaw to hold your face in place.

Jay continues to thrust into you with merciless regularity, his thrusts making you shake from head to toe. Your ass bounces with each impact of his hips, and you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, his animalistic grunts mixing with the wet smacks of your bodies colliding over and over again. He abruptly releases your hair, grabbing your breasts with such violence that you scream, but even your screams are muffled by the length of Heeseung filling your mouth, pushing himself deep into your throat, until you're gasping for air.

“Fuck, look at that…” Jay growls, his voice full of twisted desire as he watches you struggle. His fingers wrap around your breasts, kneading them mercilessly, pulling on your nipples with a force that makes you jump in pain. “She likes it, huh… she loves getting fucked like a whore.” His words are like whiplashes to your mind already clouded by pleasure and pain.

Heeseung laughs softly, a throaty, guttural sound that echoes in your skull. “She was born for this,” he whispers, his voice full of contempt and possessiveness. “Look at her… A fucking slut who lives to be taken like this.” His hands move to your nose, fingers pinching your nostrils tightly to keep you from breathing. Oxygen is immediately lacking, and you panic, your body desperate to break free, but Heeseung gives you no escape. He pushes deeper into your throat, his hips pounding into your face as your entire body is caught in the crossfire, suffocating under the weight of their absolute domination.

You feel your vision blurring, black spots dancing in front of your eyes as the lack of air makes your head spin. Jay, for his part, doesn't slow down. He thrusts his cock into you with increasing violence, each thrust shaking your already weakened body, forcing you to accept more, more and more. He finally releases your breasts to slap your ass, a loud smack that makes you jump, your muscles contracting involuntarily around him, which draws a deep groan of satisfaction from him.

“Fuck, she feels so tight, huh?” Jay laughs, his tone mocking and cocky. His hands come down to grip your hips again, and he pulls roughly, forcing you down even further onto his cock. “She’s going crazy with every thrust… Did you see that? She’s begging for more.”

Heeseung, his breath short, releases your nose just in time for you to take a sharp breath, but he doesn’t give you any respite. His fingers slide into your sweat-soaked hair, and he controls the movement of your head, forcing you to take his cock deeper and deeper, choking you with each quick, violent thrust. You’re nothing more than a puppet in their hands, your body responding instinctively to their desires. Your throat contracts painfully around him, and you feel the burn in your lungs, but there’s no way you can escape their control.

Jay, behind you, continues his frantic assaults. His fingers slide over your soaked skin, tracing red marks where he grips you too hard, pulling you against him again and again. You feel his cock fill you completely, each thrust of his hips making you scream internally, your body stretching under the constant impact. But you don't have the luxury of moaning, each sound muffled by Heeseung's length relentlessly pounding against the back of your throat.

The room echoes with the obscene sounds of their bodies hitting yours, a mixture of moans, grunts, and wet smacks that overwhelm you. Your mind is lost in the intensity of the moment, pain and pleasure merging into a maelstrom that leaves you empty of any coherent thought. You no longer know where the pain begins and the pleasure ends, all you know is that you are their plaything, and they intend to break you completely.

With a guttural groan, Heeseung stills deep in your throat, his abundant seed filling you almost to the point of suffocation. Your head is held against his groin, and you feel each pulse of his orgasm, a mixture of heat and power that makes you shudder with desire. The sensation of his ejaculation is overwhelming, each spurt making you vibrate to the core. Your fingers grip his thighs tightly, desperate for support as the spasms of his pleasure overwhelm you. On the other side, Jay, relentless, cums into your pussy, his hot, viscous seed seeping into you, filling every corner of your wet heat, intensifying the sensation of his presence inside you. The pulsing of your pussy around him becomes a hypnotic dance, a call to debauchery and submission.

In this state of ecstasy, Jay doesn’t seem satisfied yet. His powerful fingers move to your asshole, caressing the delicate skin before slowly sinking inside. The resulting pain is almost unbearable, but an unsuspected pleasure begins to awaken in you, a wave of conflicting sensations that makes you lose your footing. You feel a delicious burn pass through you, dilating you as he slowly takes you, forcing you to welcome his presence. Each movement, each pressure on your delicate flesh becomes a symphony of pain and pleasure, a duality that you begin to accept, to embrace. As he continues to fill you, the heat of his body against yours, you explode around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a devastating tide. Your body reacts uncontrollably, in the grip of an overstimulation that only intensifies the orgasm.

Heeseung slowly pulls out of your throat, and a cough shakes you, your head falling heavily onto the bed sheet, sweat dripping from your forehead, each drop a testament to the intensity of this moment. “No more… please,” you whisper between gasps, your voice a stray breath as Jay continues to fill you, his cock deep inside you, his fingers now moving inside your tight ass, making you feel the heat of his body with every second.

“Yes, baby, you can, and you will take it all,” Jay growls, his tone commanding and resolute. The excitement in his voice, mixed with the urgency of his need, sends shivers down your spine. He pounds into you with an insatiable fervor, maneuvering you with calculated expertise so that you find yourself sitting on him, facing him, without removing his cock from your insides, making sure his seed stays warm inside. Every movement of his body is a reminder of his deep desire, a need for possession that makes you quiver with excitement and submission. There is no room for waste in this carnal dance; every drop is precious.

Heeseung slowly approaches behind you, his eager fingers sliding over your sweaty back, tracing invisible lines on your burning skin. The bed creaks beneath your bodies, his heavy movements crushing the mattress as Jay, lying beneath you, grips your thighs tightly to keep you stable. He controls you completely, forcing you to stay in this cowgirl position, as your pussy swallows and spits his cock in a rhythm that feels both oppressive and divine. Your body trembles, already overloaded with pleasure, each thrust pushing you a little closer to that edge where everything becomes blurred, where pain and pleasure become one.

Jay’s grunts echo through the room, his fingers digging deep into your flesh as your breasts sway wildly under the relentless assault. His gaze is fixed on them, mesmerized by the way they bounce with each thrust of his hips. He’s mesmerized by the sight, his eyes burning with desire as he watches you lose yourself on his cock. “Fuck… you look so good on that…” he breathes, his husky tone betraying the control he’s trying so desperately to maintain.

Behind you, Heeseung settles in, his warmth immediately overwhelming you. You feel his bare chest against your back, his muscles contracting with every breath he takes. His hot breath caresses the back of your neck, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. His hands slowly move down to your hips, gripping them firmly before moving lower, to your ass. With a rough motion, he spreads your ass cheeks, exposing your anus unceremoniously. A low laugh escapes his throat as he positions himself behind you, pressing his hard cock against your already strained hole.

With a sharp thrust, without warning, Heeseung enters you from behind, shoving his cock into your ass. The sensation is immediate, a brutal mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you breathless. Your body tenses under the double intrusion, your hands desperately gripping the sheets as your legs shake with overstimulation. Jay below you grunts in response, his pleasure amplified by the way your pussy involuntarily contracts around him with each thrust of Heeseung's hips.

Their movements synchronize, taking you together in a relentless rhythm, pulling you into a vortex of sensations that blur your mind. Your body is trapped between them, unable to do anything but submit to their domination, their incessant hip thrusts tearing muffled cries from you. Jay, his hands still gripping your hips, forces you to bounce again and again on his cock, his gaze fixed obsessively on your breasts which continue to swing under the impact. He leans forward abruptly, his mouth capturing one of your swollen nipples which he bites hard. His tongue plays with the hardened tip, sucking it, biting it, as if he were trying to mark you, to remind you that you belong to him.

“Imagine that, huh? Your breasts full, swollen with milk, so heavy they’ll hurt…” he murmurs against your skin, his words hitting you hard. He sucks your nipple harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, drawing uncontrollable moans from you. The thought of you pregnant with their child, your belly round, your breasts full of milk, invades your mind. You’re nothing more than a toy to them, a doll meant to carry their offspring, and the thought makes you vibrate with pleasure.

Behind you, Heeseung is not to be outdone. His hands sink deep into the tender flesh of your buttocks, his thrusts becoming harder, more precise as he loses himself in the idea of ​​filling you too. “You’re going to give us children, honey… Your round belly, filled with our kids. Fuck, you’ll be so good with your full breasts, we’ll never leave you alone…” He emphasizes his words by diving deeper into you, his cock tearing you apart with a brutality that you can no longer control. Your cries mix with their grunts, the pain and pleasure merging into one unbearable sensation.

Heeseung's hands slide down your stomach, caressing it possessively, as if he could already feel that belly rounded by their child. His other hand moves up to grab your throat, gripping it tightly, controlling your gasps and moans, reducing your noises to low, muffled sighs. His fingers tighten their grip with each thrust, almost preventing you from breathing, while Jay continues to pound into you from below, his cock hitting your G-spot with devastating precision.

“You’ll look beautiful, with your belly swollen… Your breasts so full that we could make you squirt milk just by touching them…” Jay tightens his grip on your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh, holding you firmly in place as he pushes you harder onto his cock. “I want to see that… You, pregnant, ours… only good enough to carry our children…” he adds, biting your nipple harder, drawing a strangled cry from your throat as your body tenses under the wave of brutal pleasure.

Your mind blurs, overwhelmed by this vision they impose on you, their total control over your body, their desire to see you bear their descendants. Each thrust of Jay's hips shatters this image in your head, each brutal penetration of Heeseung in your ass reinforces this idea. They take you, manipulate you, shape you so that in the end, you are only theirs. Your breathing becomes erratic, your body trembles with fatigue and overstimulation, but you cannot stop. They give you no respite, their pregnancy fantasies overwhelm you, lose you in a spiral of obscenity and pure pleasure.

Heeseung speeds up again, his hand tightening around your throat, controlling your cries, while his other hand moves down between your legs, finding your swollen clit. He pinches it mercilessly, causing an explosion of sensations that makes you scream silently, your body convulsing in shock. Jay groans beneath you, his thrusts becoming frantic as your pussy clenches around him in an uncontrollable reflex. The sensation is too strong, too brutal, and your orgasm erupts violently, leaving you panting, unable to hold back your moans muffled by Heeseung's grip.

“Fuck… you’re perfect…” Jay groans, speeding up again, his pleasure building as he feels you writhe above him. Heeseung continues to pound into you from behind, his fingers playing with your clit, torturing you, pulling you further into overstimulation, giving you no respite.

Jay leans down, crushing his muscular chest against yours, nearly suffocating you under the raw heat of his body as he continues to pound into you without a single ounce of mercy. Each blow is a shock that goes through your entire body, brutal, fast, barely giving you time to breathe. You feel every muscle in his torso contract against your crushed breasts, sweat dripping between you, making each movement slippery and even more intense. Your breath hitches with each thrust he makes, the power of his thrusts lifting you slightly off the bed, your body no longer yours, shaken in every direction by his calculated violence. Your pussy trembles around his cock, too sensitive, unable to get used to the speed and force he imposes.

His blows are relentless, giving you no respite. With each new penetration, it's as if he's hitting you directly in the belly, emptying you of all breath, each blow stealing a part of yourself. You struggle to catch air, but everything is submerged under this sensation of being totally taken, totally submitted to his infernal rhythm. Your pussy is already too sensitive, each blow makes you gasp, makes you tremble, pushing you to the limit of what you can endure. And yet, he continues, completely ignoring your state, as if your pain, your pleasure were only negligible details compared to his need to possess you.

Behind you, Heeseung holds you tight, his fingers sliding mercilessly over your already overly sensitive clit again. His fingers play with you, tormenting that sweet spot until every pinch becomes delicious torture. He’s not gentle, squeezing and twisting your clit with a precision that makes you scream internally, pleasure mixed with pain, mixing into a devastating cocktail. You feel pulled between them, every part of your body pushed to the limit. Heeseung pushes into your ass, his fingers penetrating deeply, each movement making you jump, your muscles contracting around him. He owns you completely, his fingers sliding in and out of your body with relentless precision, as if he knows exactly the spots to touch to push you further into this spiral of unbearable sensations.

Jay continues to pound into your pussy, his cock thrusting in and out, creating unbearable friction against your cervix. Each movement is a shock, a brutal jolt that runs through your body, leaving you unable to focus on anything but the dull pain and brutal pleasure that intertwine. You're on the verge of exploding, each thrust from Jay bringing you closer to that edge, but you can't make it, each thrust pushing you further into that overstimulated zone where your body doesn't know whether to scream in pain or cum.

Jay leans down, roughly shoving his tongue into your mouth, forcing you to welcome him, to swallow his every move as if it were another form of punishment. His tongue searches your mouth, forcing you to respond, to bend to his rhythm. You no longer control anything, every moan, every breath belongs to him. When he finally pulls back, your lips tremble, a thin trickle of saliva still connecting you, but he gives you no respite. Immediately, he leans over your neck, sinking his teeth deep into your flesh. The shock is instantaneous, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, your body stiffening under the impact of this savage bite. You feel the blood beading, slowly flowing down your neck, while Jay growls against your skin, savoring the pain he causes you. He bites even harder, his teeth sinking almost to the bone, forcing you to endure this pain that mixes with the intensity of his thrusts.

Your back arches, a shiver of pain and pleasure running through you as Heeseung pushes you even harder against Jay, compressing you between their two bodies, depriving you of any possibility of movement. You are stuck, suffocated by the force of their bodies pressing against you, keeping you completely at their mercy. Heeseung slowly withdraws his cock from your ass, the feeling of each centimeter leaving you almost makes you scream, your hyper-sensitive body reacting to the slightest friction. But he doesn't give you time to recover. Before you can catch your breath, he penetrates you again, this time in your pussy, his cock rubbing brutally against Jay's which is still inside you. The sensation is too intense, too violent, you feel every millimeter, every blow, as if your body is going to tear itself apart under this double penetration that gives you no respite.

Their cocks rub against each other inside you, creating an unbearable friction. Your body, already oversaturated with sensations, is unable to handle this intensity. Each thrust is a violent shock, shaking you from the inside, pushing you beyond your physical limits. You feel the heat of their bodies against yours, the sweat, the cum flowing inside you, a mixture of their fluids that fills you again and again. Heeseung pounds your pussy, each thrust going deeper, pushing Jay's cum and his own further into your womb, making sure that nothing is wasted, that every drop is absorbed by your body. The obscene sound of their thrusts echoes in the room, their skin slapping against yours, creating a suffocating symphony of raw desire and total possession.

Your entire body is on fire, too sensitive, too overstimulated to fully grasp what is happening to you. Each penetration is an explosion, a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain, shooting through you from one end to the other. You are unable to catch your breath, choking under the intensity of what they are doing to you. Your moans mix with theirs, but they do not slow down, taking you again and again, leaving you trapped in this unbearable state of overstimulation, pushing you further and further.

When Jay finally stills, buried deep inside your pussy, you think it’s over. But it’s just an illusion. Heeseung keeps going, his cock thrusting in roughly, pushing your limits, draining you of every ounce of resistance. You’re on the edge, unable to take anymore, every sensation becoming torture, but he doesn’t let up. He takes you relentlessly, digging deeper and deeper, each thrust of his hips making you lose your footing. The mixture of their cum begins to leak out of you, as Heeseung empties himself again, filling your pussy with incandescent heat, consuming you from the inside out.

No respite is granted to you. Heeseung remains planted inside you, deeply anchored, his movements slower but still relentless, keeping you in a state of unbearable tension. You are out of breath, completely submitted to their will, spread between their bodies that keep you captive, prisoner of their endless desire. Their ragged breaths resonate against your skin, but their cocks remain firmly buried inside you, as if they refuse to let you go until they are certain that you are completely theirs, imbued with their essence, marked forever.

You have nothing left. Every fiber of your being is drained, yet they continue to possess you, to hold you between them like their plaything, their slut, full of their seed. Your thighs are stained with their fluids, your skin bruised by their bites and brutality. You are theirs, all of them. They will not let go until you are broken, filled to the point of ecstasy, unable to move or think, reduced to their mercy, their object, marked by their hold.

Heeseung, still buried deep inside you, rolls you gently onto your side, trapping you between their two hot bodies. The heat is stifling, enveloping you completely as your hypersensitive body reacts to every movement. You are there, at the center of everything, unable to escape, the two of them holding you prisoner. You feel their cocks still inside you, filling you again and again, and the weight of their presence weighs heavily on your exhausted insides. Your mind is in pieces, drowning in an ocean of too intense sensations, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what they have just done to you. Your breath is short, ragged, as waves of painful pleasure pass through you again and again.

“Please…” you gasp, your voice hoarse and broken with exhaustion. “I can’t take it anymore… it’s too much…” Your plea dies in the air, ignored. Jay’s fingers slide gently along your body, shaking with your involuntary contractions, shivering with every little ripple of your pussy as it continues to clench around them.

“No, baby,” Jay whispers against your skin, his lips brushing your neck with venomous tenderness. “You still take us… you still want us, I can feel it.” His voice is soft, but his obsession is palpable, his hands exploring every curve of your body, as if they can never get enough.

Your lips part, letting out a muffled moan, a mixture of pain and intense pleasure. "No... I... I beg you... I'm at the end of my rope..." you whisper, desperately searching for an anchor to reality. But their caresses, their whispers push you even further into this whirlwind of unbearable sensations. Your body, exhausted, over-sensitized, continues to respond to every touch, every movement, unable to escape this prison of flesh, of burning desire.

Heeseung, sensing your futile struggle, tightens his grip on your hips, pressing you even closer to him. “Look at you,” he growls, his voice vibrating with animalistic, possessive desire. “Even now, you continue to take us. You were made for this… for us… you belong to us.”

Your head shakes weakly, your eyes half-closed, but your body betrays you. A violent heat rises in you, consuming you from the inside, and once again, this wave of painful pleasure hits you, bringing you back to this unbearable overstimulation. Your hands, weakly gripping the sheets, seek an anchor point, but their caresses prevent you from doing so, keeping you in this state of uncontrollable desire.

“Fuck… I… I belong to you…” you gasp, unable to hold back the words that spill from your trembling lips. “But… this is too much… I can’t take it anymore…” Your breath hitches under the intensity, your body too sensitive to endure another minute. Yet even as you protest weakly, a part of you is hopelessly captivated, unable to resist this feeling of total possession, of loss of control.

Jay smiles against your skin, his fingers lazily playing with your hardened nipples. “Of course you’re ours. You could never be anyone else’s, not after this.” His words are soft, but tinged with a consuming obsession that roots itself deeper and deeper into you. “We’ll mark you over and over again, until you can’t think of anything but us, our cocks deep inside you.”

You close your eyes, your head falling back against Heeseung’s chest, still holding you tightly against him. His fingers wrap around your throat with silent possessiveness, holding you in place, as if to remind you that there’s no escape. “Look at her,” he whispers with twisted adoration. “Look at how perfect she is, completely ours… you know you’ll still beg us, even after all this, right?”

A low moan escapes your trembling lips. “I… I just want…” Your sentence trails off, lost in the inability to articulate what you truly feel. Part of you is broken, exhausted, but the other is trapped with them, chained to this insatiable desire for their warmth.

“That’s it, keep clenching around us…” Heeseung breathes, his raspy voice filled with dark satisfaction. “You’re holding us, even now, like you don’t want to let go. You still want us…” His fingers slide slowly over the back of your neck, trailing down your spine with calculated slowness, adding an extra layer of stimulation to your already overly sensitive body.

You try to protest again, but the words die in your throat as their hands, their whispers, and that unbearable feeling of their cocks still inside you overwhelm you. Your thoughts fall apart, reduced to this struggle to survive through this painful pleasure, every tense muscle responding to their desires.

In front of your bedroom mirror, you stood there, mesmerized by the provocative image you projected. The room was bathed in dim lighting, creating an atmosphere that was both intimate and exciting. Tonight, you would embody a vision of desire and debauchery, the Halloween costume you had chosen for the Feast of the 4 Black Apollos was not simply a disguise, but a bold statement, a rallying cry for those who dared to venture into dark pleasures.

Your jumpsuit, made of a white satin fabric, hugged your body like a second skin, hugging every curve with an almost suffocating intensity. It was so short that it barely covered the bottom of your buttocks, revealing the soft curve of your skin, ready to be touched, caressed. The zipper, pulled halfway up your neckline, gave a glimpse of your chest, quivering with anticipation, as if waiting for exploring hands to come and completely bare it. Every movement you made made the fabric sparkle under the light, a promise of lust just waiting to be fulfilled.

Your bunny ears, one erect and the other slightly curled, were not just an accessory; they were a symbol of your mischievous and provocative nature. Tonight, you would embody the perfect blend of innocence and debauchery, an allegory of temptation. You had chosen to wear fishnet tights, their bold and transparent texture adding an extra dimension to your allure. The black mesh wrapped around your legs like a delicate caress, each mesh tracing the curve of your thigh, making you quiver with excitement with each movement.

For your makeup, you had opted for a palette that was as bright as it was seductive. Your eyebrows, painted white, formed a striking contrast with the warmth of your skin. The white mascara, applied in thick layers, brought out the sparkle in your eyes, giving them a mysterious appearance, as if you had just come out of a torrid dream. On your cheeks, a vibrant, sensual and deep red echoed the heat that burned within you. And the shiny black, tending towards purple, that you had applied to the tip of your nose, added a touch of mischief to your face. Your eyelids sparkled under the shine of the bright shadows that you had chosen, capturing the light in a way that would hypnotize anyone who would meet your gaze.

But what really caught the eye, what made hearts flutter and awakened the darkest desires, were your lips. They were voluptuous, slightly bitten, as if someone had already tasted their sweetness, a promise of unfulfilled pleasure. The red shade you had applied, bold and captivating, gave your lips a juicy appearance, ready to be devoured. You had added a thick gloss that made them sparkle, like a ripe fruit under the sun, inviting temptation and promising unexplored delights.

Every detail of your look, every touch of makeup and every accessory, was an invitation to escape, to explore the limits of desire. As you moved in front of the mirror, the little bunny tail delicately attached to the back of your jumpsuit swayed gently, drawing attention to your ass and adding a touch of playfulness to your sensuality. This seemingly innocent detail was in reality a symbol of your depraved nature, a nod to the obscene pleasures you were about to experience.

Darkness swallows up almost everything as you walk down the driveway to the manor. The air is so frigid it seems to bite your flesh, each breath emitting white wisps that slowly rise in front of your face before disappearing into shadow. You press into yourself, wrapping your arms around your waist, but no warmth comes to comfort you. The leafless trees loom on either side like gaunt specters, their gnarled branches reaching above you, casting grotesque and menacing shadows on the stony ground. Every creak beneath your feet, every rustle of dead leaves seems to amplify the deafening silence of the night.

The Halloween decorations that dot the driveway aren’t mere party favors; they’re warnings. Human skulls, their empty eye sockets fixed on you, grin in the darkness from rusty spikes. The remaining flesh, half-decayed, still hangs limply from some of the bones, as if death has not yet completed its work. Their mouths twisted into morbid grins seem to mock you, as if they already know what awaits you inside.

Carved pumpkins, grotesquely deformed, spew molten wax from their gaping mouths. Their triangular eyes stare at you with a sickening insistence, their glowing inner light flickering as if inhabited by malevolent spirits. Garlands of human and animal bones hang above you, creaking softly in the night wind, the sound echoing the irregular beating of your heart. Between the dead branches, thick, sticky cobwebs stretch like death traps, sheltering spiders whose bodies seem swollen with fresh blood. They crawl slowly, each of their legs clicking against the branches, their black eyes reflecting the dim light of the candles scattered along the path.

As you approach the imposing gate of the manor, the landscape grows darker, more sinister. The stones of the path are littered with rubble and fragments of bone, and you realize with horror that some of these bones are human. Crows perched on makeshift tombstones stare at you with empty eyes, their beaks emitting little rasping cries, as if they are impatiently waiting for the moment when they can feast on your flesh. An unpleasant smell rises in the air, a mixture of mold, damp earth, and something sweeter and fouler—the stench of decay.

Before you, the massive door of the manor stands, black as coal, its rusty hinges creaking slightly in the wind. Large black candles stand at each corner, their flickering light casting shadows on the stone walls, creating the illusion that the manor's façade is moving slowly, as if breathing. The wood of the door is stained with blood, violent splatters that still drip, red and sticky, mixed with scratches deep in the wood. Above the door, an inscription in red letters glows faintly, a message in Latin that you can't quite read, but it gives off an aura of doom.

Your trembling hand brushes the icy doorknob. The metal makes you shiver, as if something deeply evil lurks within, ready to seize you. You ring the bell, and a low growl echoes through the bowels of the manor, reverberating off the walls like a mournful lament. The door slowly creaks open, letting out a breath of putrid air, cold and dense. You hesitate for a second before stepping inside, your instincts screaming at you to turn back, but something deeper—a macabre curiosity or an unseen force—pushes you forward.

Inside, the sight is even more terrifying. The first room you enter is vast, yet oppressive. The ceiling seems infinitely high, but the shadows cast by the dim chandeliers hang heavily, as if they might collapse on you. Black, torn draperies hang from the walls, covered in dark stains that resemble dried blood. The marble floor is cracked in several places, and pools of dirty water collect in the crevices, making an incessant dripping sound that echoes in the silence.

Along the walls, stone statues of angels, but disfigured, stare at you blankly. Their wings are broken, their faces twisted in expressions of infinite pain, and their hands, outstretched in gestures of imploration, are covered in something that looks like dried human flesh. Their eyes, deep black, seem to follow your every move, scrutinizing you with an unhealthy intensity. Their shadows stretched on the distorted walls form grotesque silhouettes, as if they would detach themselves at any moment to seize you.

Along the main hallway, gilded frames, now rusted, hold portraits of the manor's former owners. But these painted faces are not ordinary: each gaze is full of madness, pain, or terror, as if each soul depicted has been condemned to an eternity of suffering. Some of the portraits are scratched, lacerated as if something, or someone, has tried to free itself from within the frames. Their eyes seem to stare at you, their lips moving imperceptibly, whispering curses that you cannot hear but feel deep within your being.

In the corner of the room, an old pendulum clock ticks slowly, its ticking regular like the beating of a monstrous heart. With each passing second, the weight of the atmosphere grows heavier, and the air becomes harder and harder to breathe. Time seems to warp here, trapping you in a hellish loop.

Along the stairs leading upstairs, candlesticks in the shape of human arms hold candles whose wax drips like blood, forming red puddles at the foot of the steps. 

A cold shiver runs through you as you continue to gaze at the Halloween decorations in the mansion, every breath of cool air that touches you reminding you of the vulnerability of your situation. You instinctively tighten your arms around your body, but this attempt to protect yourself is shattered in an instant when you feel a strong arm encircle your waist. Before your back hits a firm chest, a scream of terror escapes your lips. You try to struggle, but his grip is strong, relentless. His hot, humid breath caresses your neck, and despite the fear, a wave of desire passes through you, as strong as the anxiety.

“It’s me, baby,” Jay whispers, his voice soft but filled with an irresistible authority. He slowly slides his fingers along your thigh, digging into the fishnet tights that surround you like a second skin. Each touch is a thrill of pleasure and danger. You slowly calm down in his arms, a shaky sigh escaping your lips as you relax your body against his, letting yourself be carried away by the warmth he gives off.

“Fuck… you scared me,” you say, your voice soft, almost a moan, full of delicious confusion. You try to catch your breath, but the beat of your heart, jerky and rapid, betrays your growing arousal. The tension between you is electric, and you feel his heart pounding against your back, each pulse resonating with yours, drawing you further into this whirlwind of sensations.

“Sorry about that,” he replies, a smirk playing on his lips. His gaze searches every inch of your skin, and he revels in your reaction, your dread slowly turning into desire. His fingers travel up your stomach, gliding over your skin like a feather, until they reach the top of your suit. With calculated gentleness, he grasps the already slightly open zipper and pulls it open further, revealing the softness of your skin in contact with the cool air. A shiver of excitement runs through you, and you know you’re about to cross a boundary from which you can never return.

His expression changes then, his gaze becomes more intense, more possessive. His eyes shine with a light that sets you ablaze, a promise of what is to come. He slides his hand under the fabric, his fingers gripping your chest with brutal firmness. His caresses are slow but resolute, each squeeze on your breasts sending waves of electricity throughout your body. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, Professor.” He says, his voice thick with desire, as if he’s already claimed you. His words hang in the air like a filthy promise, each syllable making you shudder more.

Your breath hitches as his hand begins to explore lower, his fingers playing unrestrainedly with your nipples, already hard under his touch. He pinches them, tugs them lightly, forcing you to moan, and each sound that escapes your mouth reminds you of how much you are at his mercy. Each squeeze he puts on your breasts seems to invade your entire body with an insatiable heat. His lips land on your neck, tracing a line of wet, possessive kisses, his hot breath making you shiver under each burning touch. The tension in the air is palpable, as if the world around you is fading away, leaving only the two of you in this sensual and dangerous dance.

“Jay…” you whisper his name, your head falling back against his chest, lost in a whirlwind of sensations. The tension is palpable, almost unbearable. You feel his muscular chest heaving against you, his heartbeat speeding up in time with yours. “I’m still sensitive,” you admit in a shaky voice, aware of how weak you are. But he revels in it, the knowledge seems to excite him even more, and he leans in slightly, struggling to catch your gaze.

As soon as you say your words, his fingers move a little lower, brushing the edge of your suit. He knows exactly how to play with your body, how to build up the desire just enough to make you writhe slightly against him. His eyes, darkened by an almost demonic intensity, scrutinize you, impatient, eager to see you give in. You are trapped in this mixture of fear and desire, every fiber of your being demanding more.

“Do I look like I care?” He says in a harsh voice, pressing himself against you, forcing you to feel the hardness of his body against yours. Your already tense body arches slightly, your chest swelling further under his hold. His hands continue their exploration, playing with the zipper, pulling it down a little more before letting one hand venture under your fabric, caressing the bare skin of your stomach, leaving you panting.

“Jay…” you begin, but he interrupts you with burning impatience. He doesn’t give you time to finish your sentence, his fingers venturing lower, sliding along your body, leaving you speechless. The tension is unbearable, each second seeming to stretch as his warm touch electrifies your skin.

“You’re lucky I have to take you to the party,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin, making you shiver even more. His dark eyes travel down your body with a possessiveness that leaves you naked, even in your white jumpsuit. He trails his fingers over the line of your cleavage, his caresses teasing, but laden with lewd promises, as if every movement he makes is a declaration of his dominance.

He releases you for a moment, turns you back to him, and you revel in his disguise: a tattered white tuxedo, blackened wings on his back, the undersides of his eyes lightly painted black to create a ringed effect that accentuates his menacing look. His expression is icy and dark, making you shiver with pleasure as he slides his hand up to zip up your top all the way, trapping you further in his grip.

“Fuck, Y/n, how could you go out like that, huh? You sound like a fucking slut begging to be fucked.” The words escape his lips like a whiplash, each syllable resonating with an intensity that takes your breath away. His eyes darken as he savors every curve of you behind that skimpy suit, which seems to hide nothing. Heat rises to your cheeks, a mixture of shame and unquenchable desire.

“You’re not walking away from me, or any of us tonight, especially when you’re dressed like that,” he says through his teeth, his grip around your wrist tightening with a possessive force that sends shivers of excitement through your body. He pulls you with him through the mansion, each step echoing on the cold flagstones, an echo of his dominance. You’re his, and every movement takes you further into this world of debauchery.

As you get closer to the backyard, the sounds of the party get louder. As soon as you step outside, the scene around the pool is a chaos of lust and excess. Half-naked students thrash around in the water, their bodies glistening with moisture as they touch each other unabashedly. Laughter and screams mix with moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that makes your heart beat wildly, like an intoxicating melody that awakens your senses.

In one corner, you see a group snorting cocaine, their slow, disordered movements betraying the effect of the drug. The more you observe, the more the reality of what is happening around you hits you. The obscene scenes unfold without any discretion. Here, an orgy breaks out without restraint, bodies intertwining, moans rising in the hot night air. Each scream, each moan of pleasure resonates in your head, awakening in you an insatiable desire, a need to immerse yourself in this chaotic and torrid atmosphere.

Jay guides you through this decadence, his cold and distant gaze showing that he is not impressed by this spectacle. He seems to revel in it, holding you tightly, as if to remind you that you are his, under his control. His fingers caress your skin, reminding you that at any moment, he can make you give in again, drag you into this whirlwind of excess and debauchery. Each contact between you is charged with a promise of pleasure, an obscene pact that you seal together in this diabolical night.

“Do you like it, doll?” he asks in a low voice, almost a breath. His gaze becomes provocative as he scans your face, trying to guess your thoughts, your hidden desires. The very idea of ​​joining these feverish bodies excites you, and you are torn between fear and desire, your body demanding a release that only Jay seems capable of offering you.

“Maybe,” you answer, your voice trembling betraying your desire, excitement pulsing in your stomach. He lets out a dark laugh, a promise of what’s to come.

Before Jay can even say a word, Jake appears, seemingly emerging from the shadows like a mythical creature. His torn jacket hugs his muscular body, revealing scars marked on his torso, while a silver necklace hangs around his neck, accentuating his wild and bestial look. His eyes, highlighted by dark makeup, shine with an animalistic glow, revealing his predatory nature. The contrast between his brute strength and his irresistible charm immediately attracts attention, and several students can't help but stare at him, which makes you feel a pang of jealousy in your stomach. When he meets your gaze, a playful smile lights up his face, provocative, as he advances towards you, filled with a confidence that makes you shudder.

He steps so close that you can feel his warm breath against your skin. With a confident gesture, he cups your face in his hands, his fingers trailing over your cheek with a surprising softness, almost tenderness. “Hey, Mom, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips crashing to yours in a daring kiss. The contact, though brief, is electrifying; it leaves you panting, wanting more. Whispers of jealousy and envy rise around you, but he seems oblivious to what anyone thinks, revelling in your palpable need.

His lips barely part, just enough for him to look you in the eye, a provocative smile still on his lips. His hand slides insistently along the back of your neck, caressing your delicate skin, as he turns his gaze to Jay. “What do we do tonight?” he asks, his smooth voice tinged with a challenge.

Jay, who is watching the scene with a cold intensity, lets out an amused but protective smile. “As usual, nothing changes,” he replies, his tone sharp as a razor. He gives off an aura of dominance, a quiet strength that makes you shudder. His fingers tighten around your waist, making you shiver under the pressure of his grip. “We have fun, we fuck, and if there are any troublemakers, we’ll take care of them as usual.”

The words resonate in the air, heavy with obscene promises. He presses you a little closer to him, making you feel every muscle of his torso against your body. This proximity unsettles you, but at the same time, it gives you a pleasant warmth that warms you from the inside. The atmosphere is charged with an electric tension; you are caught between the two men, each giving off a magnetic power that attracts you inexorably.

“Nothing changes,” Jay repeats, his voice now a little lower, more insistent, as if he wants to make sure you understand the dynamic that’s taking hold. His dark eyes fix on you, burning with a possessiveness that makes you swoon. You feel like a toy in their hands, and you like the idea. Jake, though detached, doesn’t pass up an opportunity to assert his own power. He lets go of your hair, but his gaze remains on you, a provocative glint in his eyes.

“Okay, this will be fun,” Jake says, a flirtatious smile on his lips, his tongue sliding over his lips as if he’s already tasting the pleasure that awaits you. “I’ll pass the message on to Hee and Hoon, if I see them before you,” he adds, his tone deliberately light, but he knows that each word carries weight. The disappointed pout on your face doesn’t escape his notice, and he seems to take some pleasure in it.

“You know, I really like your costume,” Jake says, stepping a little closer, his eyes scanning your figure. “It looks amazing on you. You look like a real little bunny, ready to be devoured.” His gaze becomes more intense, almost animalistic, as he leans forward slightly, as if he really wants to taste what you have to offer.

“But you know who’ll appreciate this even more,” Jake murmurs, his hot breath caressing your cheek. His voice is a mix of teasing and sensuality, and each word resonates with you like a promise. He watches you closely, his dark eyes lingering on the way you bite your lip to stifle a moan. “It’s Hoon. He always calls you his bunny. And when he sees you in this outfit, he’s going to go crazy.”

The thrill of his words runs through you, a delicious, unsettling anticipation. You know he’s toying with you, drawing you into a whirlwind of desire and tension. Jake takes a step forward, moving so close you can feel the warmth of his body against yours, a dominant, electrifying presence. “I bet he won’t be able to resist touching you. Maybe he’ll even fuck you right here, in front of everyone, just to show how much his bunny needs him. He’ll make you scream with pleasure, until you pass out from exhaustion. You want that, don’t you? I’m sure that’s why you dressed up as a bunny slut.”

Every word Jake says pushes you deeper into a state of arousal. His hand slides over your jaw, caressing your skin with cruel delicacy. He forces you to raise your head, to meet his gaze, and you feel vulnerable but at the same time irresistibly drawn. His gaze is a promise of obscene pleasure, and you know he intends to make you fall under his spell.

“Jake…” you whisper, your voice trembling, almost pleading. The intensity of his gaze, loaded with desire, leaves you speechless. You are lost in his gaze, unable to look away as Jay’s fingers, behind you, begin to wander from your waist to your stomach. He caresses the fabric of your jumpsuit, his gestures becoming more and more provocative. You feel his arousal, and the tension between the three of you rises palpably.

Without warning, Jay's hand moves lower, his fingers slipping between your legs, finding your pussy, already wet with anticipation. "Fuck, he's gonna lose his mind for sure," Jay sneers, his voice laced with mischievous pleasure. He rubs the fabric of the suit against your sex, and each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You start to squirm, seeking that delicious feeling, desperately drawn to the hands of the two men surrounding you. "Fuck, she's not even wearing panties. You've already gotten yourself ready for us, baby. She's a good girl."

You feel trapped between their desire and their power, a thrill of excitement and fear mixing as you cling to Jake’s jacket, realizing how much you are at their mercy. His presence is overwhelming, but at the same time, he makes you vibrate with a need you’ve never truly acknowledged. You know you’re crossing a dangerous line, but the excitement consumes you.

Jake slides his fingers over your lips, forcing you to release the grip you have on yourself. His fingers are sticky with your lip gloss, and he smiles, a predatory smile, as he hears the small sounds of pleasure that escape your mouth. “That’s it, Mom, let us hear it all,” he says, his voice husky and full of promise. He begins to squeeze your chest under your suit, and you feel the pressure intensify, making your breathing harder, but also more exciting. Every movement of his hands becomes a challenge to your will.

Jay’s fingers tighten around your waist, forcing you to arch your back further, your back arching under the pressure of his touch. “You’re so beautiful,” Jake whispers in your ear, his voice a whisper of desire. Each word makes your heart beat faster, and you know you’re about to lose control. Jay’s movements become bolder, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric, reaching your burning flesh, and you want to lose yourself in the mixture of pain and pleasure.

“Let yourself go, baby,” Jay continues, his voice husky and full of filthy intent. Every movement of his fingers on your body makes you vibrate, and you feel like you’re crossing a limit you never dared to consider. The heat between your thighs is unbearable, and you need more, desperately clinging to the reality of this moment.

The tension is palpable. You know what’s happening here isn’t just a game. It’s a dangerous dance, a ball of unfulfilled desires and raw passions. The whispers of the other students echo through the room, a melody of disinhibition, while your body reacts instinctively to every caress, every pressure. The atmosphere is charged with obscene promises and unspoken fantasies.

“You’re mine,” Jake whispers, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that makes every fiber of your being quiver. His words, heavy with promise, resonate like a declaration of war, asserting his possession with disconcerting confidence. As he leans towards you, his lips brush yours, a caress that is both gentle and provocative. He stops just before the contact is fully made, a delicious power play that leaves you panting, your eyes fixed on him, searching for what he promised.

His hand slides along your waist, exploring each curve with calculated delicacy, as if he were sculpting your body into his own work of art. His fingers, cold against your burning skin, run over the fabric of your suit, tracing imaginary lines on your flesh. You shudder under his touch, breathless, an irresistible heat rising within you as he gets closer, almost too close. You can feel his palpable desire, a fire burning between you, ready to ignite the moment.

“You’re mine,” Jake whispers, his gaze intense and possessive fixed on yours. His hot breath brushes your lips, creating an electric tension that makes your heart race. “This is all ours.” His words, laden with obscene promises, hang in the air like a declaration of war against anything that might interfere with your moment.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against yours without ever quite touching, leaving you suspended in an unbearable state of anticipation. Each caress of his fingers explores the curves of your body with brutal delicacy, his hands running down your waist, then slowly sliding down to your hips, where he can feel the warmth of your skin. His intentions are clear, and you feel his desire pulsing with each touch.

Behind you, Jay, with his haunting gaze, intensifies the game. His nimble fingers work hard on your pussy, exploring every nook and cranny with disconcerting mastery. The sensation of his touch makes you shiver, each movement of his fingers on your sensitive skin plunging you into a sea of ​​pleasure. His thumb finds your clit, sliding gently, then rubbing with precision. Each pressure and caress makes you gasp, eliciting moans that escape your lips without you being able to hold them back.

“Fuck, you’re so receptive,” Jay murmurs, his voice low and thick with desire, as if he’s entranced by your response to his touch. He picks up the pace, playing with the wetness of your pussy, driving you completely crazy with pleasure. Your body arches, seeking more contact, more friction. The heat that invades you becomes unbearable, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming.

Jake, seeing your state, can't help but smile. "Look at her," he says to Jay, his voice tinged with a sick satisfaction. "She can't even control herself anymore. That's exactly what I want." His hand slides slowly along your thigh, and you feel his ardent gaze on you, as if he could already undress you with the power of his mind alone. Every movement he makes reminds you of how much you are at his mercy.

Jay slowly removes his fingers from your pussy, leaving you on the edge of desire, frustrated and panting. The orgasm that was so close fades, and a small moan of confusion and disappointment escapes your lips. He smooths the fabric of your slip back with deliberate nonchalance, his hand sliding over your body like a reminder of what was taken from you. His gaze, full of mischief, scrutinizes your reaction, savoring every moment of your dismay. Then, in a languid movement, he brings his fingers to his lips, licking the mixture of your arousal, his smile widening as he soaks in your sweetness.

“You won’t come until we’re all gathered and inside you,” he whispers, his voice soft as velvet, but laced with an authority that electrifies you. His fingers gently stroke the back of your neck, and you shiver, pouting.

“Come on, don’t pout, Mom,” Jake says, his lips coming closer to yours, before placing a light, almost playful kiss on them. A soft laugh escapes him, and you feel carried away by the feeling of his lips against yours. 

As you bite his lip softly, trying to chastise him for his playfulness, Jake pulls back slightly, sliding his lips to your cheek. His voice is a whisper laden with lewd promises: “You’re going to cum so much for us that you’ll beg us to stop.” It’s not a threat, but a promise, a challenge that makes you shudder. You know he’s serious, that all four of them intend to make you lose control. His bright gaze scans you intensely before he pulls away, giving you a small, playful wink as he leaves you with Jay.

Jay, still behind you, steps back and turns you around slowly, caressing the tip of your nose tenderly. A shiver runs through you, caused by the contrast between the gentleness of this gesture and the brutal way he previously handled you. "If you sulk, you won't be allowed to cum at all," he says, an amused sneer in his voice. His tone is both light and domineering, making you understand that he's not joking. Seeing your forced little smile, he allows himself to mock you: "There, that's much better. See you later, doll." A kiss on the tip of your nose, then he walks away, leaving you alone with your troubled thoughts.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to be left alone,” you yell, the irony of the situation not lost on you. You glare disapprovingly at his retreating back. Suddenly, muscular arms wrap around you. The heat of his body washes over you, and you gasp softly, a wave of arousal coursing through you as you’re pressed against him. 

“Hey, beautiful, by any chance, have you seen my bunny?” Sunghoon’s voice insinuates itself into your ear like a delicious caress, but his tone is loaded with provocation. His fingers slide slowly over your stomach, digging into your flesh, awakening shivers with each touch. An intense heat spreads through you, like a surging wave that overwhelms you and electrifies you.

“No… but I could very well be, if you really want me to.” Your voice is soft, tinged with a palpable sensuality, your provocation wrapped in a burning desire. You press your buttocks against his crotch, feeling the hardness of his erection rub against your skin. His soft moan in your ear vibrates through your entire being, a call to debauchery that makes you lose all control.

“She’s unique, you know. I’m not sure you can compete with her… But you could always try.” His tone is soft, almost hypnotic, as he pulls you even closer to him. He turns you around with a confidence that captivates you, his eyes shining with a bold mischief devouring every detail of your face, every nuance of your makeup that accentuates your charm. You are forbidden fruit, irresistible and dangerous at the same time.

“Look at me, Hoon. It’s me.” You breathe, your arms wrapping around his neck, your heart racing. Your entire body is vibrating with desire. You scrutinize his outfit hungrily. The long black velvet coat envelops him like a seductive shadow, while the leather details betray a dark elegance. The night light dances on the fabric, revealing ominous reflections that highlight his allure. His white shirt, slightly wrinkled, lets out sleeves that add a touch of casualness to his captivating image. The black leather gloves he wears accentuate his menacing nature, his high boots pounding the ground with a deliciously intimidating confidence.

Your gaze is drawn to the delicately ornate metal mask that partially hides his face, adding an aura of mystery to his charisma. The black shadows around his eyes give him a captivating and hypnotic look, and the black cane adorned with occult symbols that he holds in his hand only accentuates his dark charm.

“I’m your bunny, Hoon.” Your voice trembles slightly as you devour him with your eyes, feeling an intense heat spread through your pussy. Your breathing becomes faster, each beat of your heart resounding like an invitation to ecstasy.

“That’s right, my dear, you’re my precious bunny.” He nods, tightening his grip on his cane and your waist, his gaze fixed on your lips, consuming you with desire. “You need me so much, don’t you?” His gloved fingers slide down your back, exploring every curve, every fold of your flesh with delicious slowness. He moves down to your ass, kneading gently, each movement awakening a growing desire, an urgent need for him.

Suddenly, without warning, he gives you a sharp slap on the buttocks. The sound resonates like a clap of thunder, making you moan in surprise and pleasure. You lean slightly towards him, your mouth half open, eager for a kiss, but he waits, a mischievous smile on his lips. The game is his, and he won't give in easily.

“Please… Hoon—” your plea escapes your lips, filled with an urgency that’s both desperate and delicious. You barely finish your sentence when he pushes you against him, forcing you onto your tiptoes. His lips press against yours, hot and possessive, and you feel his body press against yours, his manhood hard against your thigh.

He kisses you with a devouring fervor, his hands taking hold of your ass, his grip tightening, pulling you closer. His tongue infiltrates your mouth, conquering, playing with yours, enveloping it with an insatiable desire. You moan against him, your heart beating wildly.

Then, he suddenly releases his grip, pulling your hair back to better explore your face. He scrutinizes your eyes dilated by the ardor, nibbling on your lower lip before sucking it between his teeth. He releases with a last bite, leaving you panting, before pulling a little harder on your hair, forcing your lips apart.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his voice husky like a rumble of thunder as he leans down, spitting into your mouth. The warmth of his saliva slides down your throat, and instinctively, you swallow, feeling your body clench around the raw sensation, the mixture of disgust and pleasure that awakens an even greater thirst in you.

“You’re the only one for me, my precious bunny, and I’m the only one for you.” His voice almost trails off, like a whisper in the dark, as you nod slightly, inviting him to kiss you again.

When your lips meet again, the kiss becomes fierce, wild. You tug on his hair from time to time, offering him a sweetness mixed with pain, and he responds with an intensity that makes you shudder. His tongue sinks deep into your throat, and you clench your flesh around it, your breathing quickening in time with his insatiable desire.

“Hey! Get a room.” Heeseung chuckles as he approaches you, sticking to your back, his hot breath caressing the nape of your neck. Sunghoon, meanwhile, shows no signs of letting go; his tongue is still deeply embedded in your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny with insatiable greed. You feel the cool leather of his glove slide along your ass, his fingers expertly playing with the small tail of your suit, caressing your skin in a way that is both delicate and provocative. The excitement quickly turns into a burning desire, and despite your efforts to pull away, he holds you firmly against him, forcing you to grind against his muscular body.

“Is that a way of telling me to fuck off?” Heeseung asks with a slight chuckle, but the shadow of jealousy permeates his voice, resonating in the already tense atmosphere. His fingers slide gently along your back, a caress both tender and possessive, as he boldly ventures forward, his cold hands meeting the warmth of your skin. He caresses your chest, his palms exploring your body with an almost devouring sensuality. In one fluid gesture, he pulls down the zipper of your suit, the cool air hitting you like a wave of arousal, as his hands linger on the sensitive skin of your breasts.

“At least it’s said nicely,” Sunghoon replies, pulling his lips from yours. His breath is short, thick with desire, as his eyes, dark and full of passion, stare at you. The tension between them is palpable, a play of power and dominance that makes your heart beat faster. Heeseung begins to explore your chest, his hands kneading your flesh with an intensity that makes you moan. The sound resonates in the air, and you feel trapped between them, your head pressed against Sunghoon’s muscular neck, every movement of his body against yours intensifying the desire.

“She doesn’t belong to you alone,” Heeseung declares, glaring at Sunghoon, his voice vibrating with silent defiance. Heeseung’s hands continue to torture your chest, his fingers digging into your delicate flesh, and you can’t help but moan, ecstasy mixing with pain. It’s a delicious dance, a struggle for possession, and every caress, every tug of his fingers leaves you panting.

“I know,” Sunghoon retorts with a slight chuckle, his voice husky, like a rumble of thunder. He pulls your head back with possessive delicacy, forcing you to look him in the eye. “It feels like someone’s jealous, bunny. Show him you belong to him too, that you belong to us.” His lips brush yours, a promise of dark pleasure, and you feel a wave of heat rising inside you. He pulls back just enough for you to come face to face with Heeseung, who curses under his breath, releasing your breasts, but his gaze is heavy with desire, as if he’s fighting a wave of possessiveness.

Heeseung is a tableau of unfulfilled desires, his black shirt partially unbuttoned revealing a muscular torso adorned with red markings symbolizing flames. The horns on his head, both elegant and menacing, add a dimension of danger to his allure. His hair, tinged with red and orange, falls over his forehead, accentuating his fierce gaze. As you watch him, you feel an irresistible urge to touch those markings, to explore them with your tongue, but you restrain yourself, knowing that every gesture must be measured, every interaction carefully calibrated.

“You’re so beautiful, Hee,” you whisper, clinging to his leather jacket, your fingers sliding over the cool leather. Heat rises in your cheeks as you look into his eyes, seeking validation for your desire. “And I belong to you,” you add, your voice soft but laden with an insidious promise, before leaning down to him, crushing your chest against his chest, leaving hot kisses on his skin, each touch awakening a new wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, honey, you want to kill me before it’s time?” he asks, his soft, husky voice echoing in your ear as he zips up your suit. He sees the shivers running down your spine, and in a protective gesture, he presses your body against his. His warmth consumes you, and you feel your heart racing, the tension between you reaching a fever pitch.

Heeseung can still feel you shivering in the cool evening wind, and with a thoughtfulness mixed with desire, he steps away for a moment to hand you his leather jacket. As he wraps it around you, he takes care to make sure you’re well protected, almost as if he wants to protect you from all the unpleasantness of the outside world. The texture of the leather against your skin is both comforting and electrifying, like a soft hug enveloping you. The musky scent of his rich, warm perfume embraces you, reminding you of how much he cares for you. It’s not just a gesture of care, but a silent promise that he’s here to watch over you.

“Hey, that wasn’t necessary, I can handle it,” you say, laughing softly, but a smile betrays the warmth that floods you at the thoughtful gesture. Your heart races as you see the determined expression on his face, a mix of pride and worry in his eyes. It touches you deeply. It’s that attention to detail, that willingness to make sure you’re okay, that melts you. You realize that this isn’t just a physical gesture; it’s a manifestation of his feelings for you, a way to show that he cares about your well-being.

“It’s worth it if it’s you, Y/n, always,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a comforting insistence. His eyes scan every detail of your face, trying to detect all the emotions that are mixed there. The way he leans slightly, as if to make sure you’re comfortable, makes a soft warmth rise in your chest. Each gesture, each word, strengthens this invisible bond between you, making the atmosphere palpable with tenderness.

He then slides a hand under his jacket, his fingers delicately brushing the underside of your buttocks, barely covered by your jumpsuit, playing with your fishnet tights. This delicate contact makes you shiver with desire, a wave of anticipation taking hold of your body. A slight shiver runs down your spine, and a moan escapes your lips without you being able to hold back. The proximity between you creates a bubble of intimacy, cutting you off from the rest of the world. In this embrace, time seems to stop; there is only him, you, and this intoxicating heat that unites you, reinforcing each beat of your hearts in harmony.

“Thank you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him to snuggle against his chest. The warmth of his body against yours is so comforting that you feel like you’re losing yourself in the embrace. His arms squeeze you gently, shielding you from the shadows of the night, and you feel his heart beat in time with yours. It’s an intimate melody that seems to resonate around you, a shared rhythm that strengthens your connection.

Heeseung looks into your eyes, trying to read all your thoughts, and you feel your heart warm under his attentive gaze. “You are so precious to me,” he finally says, his voice a soft whisper that envelops you like a warm blanket. Each word resonates within you, touching you deeply. In this suspended moment, you realize how much he means to you. His presence is comforting, like a beacon in the night, and you know you are safe here, with him.

“You’re my everything,” you answer, your eyes shining with emotion. In that moment, you understand that what you feel for each other is something rare and precious. It’s not just a physical attraction, but a soul-to-soul connection, an instinctive understanding of what the other feels.

Heeseung leans down slightly, his lips brushing your forehead in a tender gesture. It’s a touch so gentle that it makes you shiver, enveloping you in a feeling of peace. His hand slides gently into your hair, tenderly caressing your head, and you let yourself go, closing your eyes for a moment to savor this moment of sweetness. It’s a mixture of passion and tenderness, a perfect balance that transports you to a state of fullness.

“Let’s stay here, just the two of us,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. He nods softly, his eyes shining with understanding and love. In this bubble of intimacy, everything else disappears. There is no more noise, no more movement, just the two of you, entwined, lost in this world that belongs to you. Every second is precious, and you know you want this to last forever.

The softness of his caresses, the warmth of his body, the sound of his heart… all this envelops you like a sweet melody, a symphony of emotions that unites you even more. You feel light, almost ethereal, as if you were floating above reality, outside of time and space. It is a transcendent experience, where each shared moment is a celebration of the love you have built together.

Heeseung finally leans down to kiss you softly on the lips, a light and tender kiss, full of promises. It’s not a kiss of devouring passion, but rather a gentle caress, an affirmation of your connection. The taste of his lips is familiar, and you’re intoxicated by this intimacy, by this bond that unites you.

After that kiss, he looks into your eyes, and you can see the burning love that resides there. “You are my treasure,” he whispers, his words wrapped in tenderness. The statement resonates within you, and you know you are exactly where you need to be. In that suspended moment, you feel complete, filled with pure happiness.

Heeseung then begins to play with the strands of your hair, his fingers delicately wrapping around them, and you feel a gentle warmth take hold of your heart. His caress is so light that it seems almost unreal, and each passage of his fingers envelops you in infinite tenderness. It's as if he's trying to root you in this moment, to remind you how much you are loved.

You don't know how it happened, but here you are, alone by the pool, lost in a sea of ​​drunken bodies swaying to the rhythm of the deafening music. The air is saturated with uncontrolled laughter and the smell of sweat mixed with cheap perfumes. The twinkling lights above you dance like inaccessible stars, reflecting on the surface of the dark water, creating moving shadows that seem to haunt you, like mocking ghosts of a party you never really belonged to. You desperately search for one of the four boys who have managed to conquer your heart, but anxiety grips you like a vice. 

You are alone, so terribly alone, lost in this lively crowd that laughs and dances, indifferent to your growing discomfort. 

The music pulses in your ears, each beat resonating in your skull as you walk along the edge of the pool, trying to keep your balance. The alcohol you ingested has left you dizzy, disoriented, as if the world is spinning around you, a whirlwind of colors and sounds. Each sip of that sugary drink has blurred your memory, enveloping you in a euphoric haze, but at what cost?

Suddenly, the slippery ground betrays you. Your feet slip on the wet edge, and before you can comprehend what's happening, a hand closes around your wrist with brutal force. The pain flares, sharp, and a cold shiver runs through you.

“You should be more careful,” a cold voice says, echoing like thunder in the tumult of the party. It’s Mark, one of Jaehyun’s friends. His dark, pitch-black gaze pierces you, freezing you in place. His grip on your wrist tightens, snapping you out of your stupor, and you instantly feel vulnerable, exposed to his cruelty. You give him a shy smile, but it’s tinged with gratitude and shame. Jaehyun is still in the hospital, and every moment you spend here enjoying yourself reminds you of the pain he’s going through. It’s been a month now, and guilt is choking you, a snake slithering around your neck. How can you allow yourself to smile, to laugh, to live, while he fights for his life, cloistered in a hospital bed, his body broken by circumstances you can’t understand?

“Thank you,” you whisper, trying to pull your hand out of his grip, but he grips it even tighter, causing a whimper of pain to escape your lips. Panic sets in as you glance around desperately, but the others are too drunk, too lost in their own worlds to realize what’s happening right next to them. Their laughter rings out like a mockery, ignoring your distress as you’re torn between the urge to run and the desire to be saved.

“I see you managed to bend all four of the fucking Black Apollos,” he says, a sharp mockery laced with rage in his voice. He pulls you towards him, his face so close to yours that you can feel his hot, fetid breath, thick with alcohol and contempt. His gaze is a sea of ​​hatred. “Meanwhile, Jaehyun, one of your students, is stuck in a hospital bed like a piece of trash. He can’t even open his mouth anymore. And you continue to wallow in this shitty life as if nothing is happening. Do you really have any decency?” Every word he says is like a stab, driving the blades of your guilt deeper into your heart. The anger he releases fills the air with suffocating tension, and he yanks your arm roughly, causing hot tears to run down your cheeks, forcing you to remember the pain of another, through your own suffering.

“Mark… please,” you plead, your voice shaking, but he doesn’t give you time to finish. He tugs at your hair, the pain radiating through your head like wildfire, each strand pulled out seeming to remind you of your vulnerability. A scream escapes your lips, but it’s lost in the din of the party, and no one sees you, no one hears you. The laughter and music drown out your despair, leaving you alone with your fear.

His fingers dig into your flesh, tearing out strands as he leans closer, his face set in a cruel smile, a rictus of sadistic satisfaction.

“You don’t deserve to be a teacher,” he growls, his voice full of contempt, poison sliding off his tongue. “You whore.” His words are arrows, each aimed at a sensitive spot, sending you reeling between rage and humiliation. He doesn’t release his grip on your hair, and he leans down, his hand gripping your throat, squeezing with all his might. You feel the world around you blur as anxiety and terror mix, wrapping you in a veil of despair. Your heart races, beating so hard you fear it will explode. Each beat echoes in your ears like a war drum, a prelude to your imminent downfall.

“I didn’t want to kill you right away,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin, a barely veiled threat. “I wanted to see what was so special about your pussy that they were all so addicted to you. But I can still do it… once you’re dead.” He laughs, a dark, heartbreaking sound, like a predator savoring the moment before the killing blow. He presses even harder on your throat, slowly choking you, and you start to gasp, the blackness of terror slowly swallowing you up.

Your limbs weaken, and you struggle frantically, clawing at his hand until your nails are covered in blood, but his grip tightens even more. The veins in your forehead pulse, swollen with fear, and you feel a sharp pain in your throat, as if your life is slipping away from you. The world becomes a colorful blur, the faces of others blending into a grotesque dance, a macabre farce in which you are the sacrificial victim.

You feel yourself losing control, your body beginning to relax as your vision darkens, the black slowly swallowing you up. Each second seems to stretch, time twisting around you like a coiled snake. Your mind spirals into a spiral of terror, one thought assailing you: you are ready to give up, to let yourself be carried away by the darkness that calls to you. In that final moment, one thought crosses your mind: what you wanted, what you could have been, now engulfed in despair.

Mark, still there, smiling as if his victory was already assured, a predator savoring the moment before the fatal blow. His eyes shine with a sick pleasure, a glint of sadism in his gaze. The world around you becomes a distant echo, every sound distorting into an unbearable cacophony. And you, reduced to prey, struggle, but every movement seems more and more futile, like a fly trapped in a spider's web.

Anguish and terror envelop you like a second skin, leaving you with only one terrifying truth: you are at his mercy, a plaything in the hands of a madman. As your mind reels, a final silent scream echoes in your head, a desperate plea for someone, anyone, to save you from this hell. But in this party, this carnival of debauchery, no one notices your ordeal. You are invisible, a shadow among many others, and in that moment, you understand that the real fear is not that of dying, but that of being forgotten, lost in the darkness.

Mark is so absorbed in his act of violence that he doesn't notice the stealthy approach of Sunghoon, Jay, Jake, and Heeseung. Focused on his desire to destroy your life, he doesn't see the storm of anger brewing behind him. It's only when the ground cracks beneath their feet that Mark turns around, and his gaze meets that of the four boys. Fury and determination shine in their eyes, a fire that contrasts with the darkness of his soul. The palpable tension envelops them, a shiver of danger in the air.

When Mark releases you, your body collapses into the pool, a puppet whose strings have been cut. The sound of water splashes around you, and in an instant, everything goes silent. His cocky smile freezes, as Jake, with determined precision, dives into the water. The surface chugs, and he struggles to find you in the tumult. Every second that passes feels like an eternity, every beat of his heart echoing like a war drum in his head.

When Jake finally grabs you, time seems to freeze. Your body floats, inert, the water dripping off you as if it’s carrying away the last fragments of your life. The icy coldness of your skin hits him hard, like a brutal punch that knocks the breath out of him. His once-hot anger dissipates, replaced by a visceral fear, a fear he’s never felt before, a primal terror that grips his heart. He hugs you with frantic gentleness, pulling you out of the water, his heart beating so hard it hurts. He barely hears the sound of the others attacking Mark—all he sees, all there is to him in this moment, is you.

When he finally reaches the edge, he sets you down on the ground, adrenaline pumping through his body. The sounds of the party fade away, and only the heavy silence of anguish remains. He grabs your arm, desperately searching for a pulse, but he finds nothing. A cold terror washes over him, freezing him in place. It feels like the whole world is collapsing around him.

“No… please, wake up,” he whispers, his voice shaking, a silent cry of anguish. He begins to give you CPR, his trembling hands settling on your chest. Each pressure is a mixture of hope and despair, each second that passes brings him closer to the abyss. He feels the absence of life, and with it, the fear he’s always had of losing you comes to fruition, materializing like a dark shadow above him.

“Wake up, damn it!” His voice grows louder, full of desperation, but the sound is lost in the tumult of the party. All he sees is your limp body, and his heart breaks. Tears start to fall down his cheeks, burning like acid, each drop a fragment of his soul. Anguish washes over him, seeping into every corner of his mind. He remembers your smile, the warmth of your laughter, and those memories become daggers stuck in his heart.

His determination turns to desperation as he continues to apply pressure, hoping that his love can bring you back.

“I can’t lose you! Not now, not like this!” he screams, his voice torn, but even that seems futile. He leans closer, his face turned toward the night sky, as if the stars could offer him an answer, a solution. Each beat of his heart echoes in his ears like a countdown. He presses again, each squeeze on your chest a desperate cry for life, but each time it’s like he’s driving a dagger into his own heart. The lack of response from your body is unbearable torture.

He begins to imagine a future without you, and it destroys him even more. The images of you two together, of your laughter and your dreams, turn into shadows on a black wall. The pain is so intense that he feels like his heart is going to burst. “Wake up, I beg you!” It’s a plea, a cry of desperation, a silent promise that he’ll never let you go.

Time seems to slow down, each second expanding into eternal agony. There is only anguish pulsing around him, a black tide of despair. His hands grow heavy, tired from the effort, but he refuses to give up. He is trapped in this moment, between life and death, between hope and despair.

With every movement, every squeeze, he hopes to see a reaction, a shudder of life. He cries harder, his tears mixing with the water of the pool, a silent prayer above you. “I won’t let you go, I can’t live without you!” It’s a declaration of war against the inevitable, a cry into the void that echoes in his heart. He feels lost, as if he’s drowning in his own despair, and the darkness that surrounds him seems to swallow him up little by little.

Jake, in his desperate struggle, realizes that the only thing he has left is hope. Hope that you will come back, that you will breathe again. But as the seconds stretch by, a devastating truth sets in: he could lose you. And that thought, that horror, is more than he can bear. He vows to do anything to bring you back, to make you come back to life, no matter the cost. The tears flow freely, a mixture of desperation and love, a silent prayer for you to come back to him, so that he can hold you in his arms once more.

He leans closer, his tears falling on your face. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice a lost breath, thick with pain. “I love you, and I can’t imagine a world without you.” His words are a mix of promise and desperation, a cry from his soul. Each syllable echoes in the air, a poignant confession that may very well be his last. He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining a future where he could find you again, where you could smile again.

“Please, come back to me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. He keeps pushing, hoping, crying. In the oppressive darkness, he finds an unexpected strength, a determination not to let the darkness win. Every squeeze of your chest is a declaration of his love, a promise that he won’t let you go without a fight.

Anguish mixes with hope, a tragic dance that envelops him, and he knows that as long as he has breath, he will fight for you. “I love you so much,” he repeats, like a mantra, a desperate litany. He doesn’t know if you can hear him, but he hopes with all his heart that somewhere, deep within you, you feel his love, that flame that refuses to die.

Jake's hands are red, sore, shaking with the effort. He can feel his muscles clenching, burning with the strain, but he can't stop. He pounds your chest with fierce desperation, each blow echoing in the night like a cry of pain, as if he's trying to bring you back through sheer force of will. "I love you..." he breathes in a rasp, his voice broken, almost unrecognizable under the magnitude of his pain.

His heart is pounding, his chest tight with fear and terror. He feels like he’s being eaten alive from the inside by this fear, this horrible certainty that you might not come back, that you might leave forever, leaving him alone in a world that’s become unbearably empty. He’s never felt such pain, a gaping hole opening in his chest, an emotional wound that refuses to close. Every second you lie still under his hands, your body refusing to respond, is agony.

He continues, his movements becoming more disordered, more desperate. He hits your chest as if trying to break an invisible barrier between you and him, his breath short, tears blinding his eyes. The whole world fades away around him, all that exists is you, lying before him, and this visceral fear of losing you.

So when you suddenly cough, forcing a stream of water out of your mouth, his mind takes a moment to process what just happened. A raspy sound escapes your lips, followed by convulsive spasms, and he immediately turns you onto your side, heart pounding, his hands still shaking as he supports you. The relief is brutal, almost painful, as he watches you expel the water from your lungs, slowly regaining consciousness. He watches you with wide eyes, his breath short, unable to say a word, so overwhelming is the emotion.

But that relief is instantly replaced by a residual fear, still too intense to fade away. He turns you over gently, almost in a trance, his frantic gestures giving way to infinite tenderness. He places you on your back and collapses against you, his body trembling from all the effort he has just deployed. His head rests gently on your chest, his ear pressed against your beating heart, and he closes his eyes, as if he needs to feel this rhythm to believe that all this is not a dream, that you are really here, alive.

The steady beat of your heart against his ear is the only sound he wants to hear, each beat bringing him closer to reality. His tears continue to fall, but this time, they are no longer filled with fear. It is a brutal relief, a painful release, a burden finally fading. It is the only anchor he clings to keep from sinking completely. He listens, letting the beats erase the memories of anguish that nearly broke him. His tears, hot and uncontrolled, mix with the wetness that covers your body, but they no longer carry the weight of fear.

“God, you’re alive…” He sobs, his voice cracking with emotion. He tightens his hold around you, refusing to let go, refusing to let you move away even a little. His arms close around you, protective, desperate, and he holds you against him as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from him again.

You're alive. The idea seems unreal to him. He squeezes you a little tighter, as if he's afraid you'll fade away again, slip through his fingers. He clings to you desperately, his body trembling from head to toe, emotions mixing inside him, too strong, too powerful for him to comprehend. A mixture of fear, relief, sadness, and intense love overwhelms him, a wave of emotions so violent that he feels like he's drowning.

“I love you…” he whispers, barely audible, his voice trembling. It’s no longer a cry of despair, but a raw, visceral declaration, born from the depths of his soul. It’s a truth he can no longer keep quiet, that he no longer has the strength to hold back. These words are all he has left to express the storm raging inside him. “I love you, I love you so much…”

He stays like that, motionless, his head still against your chest, listening to the beating of your heart as if to convince himself that it is real. His tears continue to flow, silently, and he doesn't even try to stop them anymore. Tired and exhausted, his body drained of all energy, he lets himself go, seeking comfort in the warmth of your body.

You gently slide your fingers through his hair, your movements slow, still clumsy, but full of gentleness. Even though you are still weak, your breath ragged, you find the strength to murmur a few reassuring words. "I'm here..." you say in a weak, almost inaudible voice, but to him, these words are everything. They are a balm on his broken heart, a promise that you have returned, that you have not left him.

He clings to you with an almost desperate intensity, his face buried in your neck, his sobs becoming quieter, but just as heartbreaking. He almost lost you. The thought continues to swirl through his mind, refusing to fade. He can't imagine what it would have been like. That black hole he was about to sink into, that endless void, is still there, but it's slowly moving away, pushed back by your presence.

Your heart beats against his cheek, and that's all that matters.

Jay stared at Mark with a terrifying coldness, his eyes reduced to icy slits that showed no mercy. Mark's smirk, even with his lips split and blood trickling at the corners of his mouth, made Jay want to vomit. The man standing before them wasn't just an enemy; he was the embodiment of everything rotten, corrupt, and sick in this world. And today, they were going to eradicate him in the most brutal way possible.

Jay exhaled slowly, the air filling his lungs like a breath of poison. A half-smoldering cigarette hung between his fingers, the red-hot tip casting hellish reflections in the dim light. He hoped the smoke, thick and acrid, could soothe the trembling in his hands, but it was no use. Nothing could calm the storm of violence rumbling inside him. Rage, pure and visceral, pulsed beneath his skin like a lurking beast, waiting for its moment to strike.

Mark stood there, tied tightly to that chair. His wrists red from the rope, his protruding knuckles white from the futile effort to free himself. He laughed. The son of a bitch was still laughing, his hoarse voice echoing through the room like a cruel mockery, each sneer a knife to Jay's mind. How could he dare smile again after what he'd tried to do?

He had almost killed her. Their wife. Their reason for existing.

Jay threw his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with an angry kick of his heel. His whole body was tense, his muscles ready to explode, to make this bastard pay for every second of pain he had inflicted on you. Sunghoon and Heeseung were no better. They were also consumed by this implacable anger, this devouring desire for revenge that bound them all together in this stifling room. The atmosphere was heavy, charged with electricity, like the wait before a storm.

Heeseung, seemingly calmer, approached Mark. His silhouette stood out in the darkness, a menacing shadow. He still held his glass of bourbon in his hand, his fingers caressing the crystal as if he were still thinking about how best to break this man. But Jay could see in his eyes that there was no room for reflection here. This was the moment for action. Pure vengeance.

“So that’s it…” Heeseung murmured, his voice soft but sharp as a blade, a threat hidden beneath an icy calm. “You really had the balls to go after what doesn’t belong to you.”

Mark slowly raised his head, his predatory grin still plastered on his lips. His face was already covered in sweat, pain beginning to creep through his veins, but it only fueled his contempt. “I should have fucked her in front of you…” he blurted out, his words oozing with poison. He spat blood onto the ground, before licking his lips in an obscene gesture. “Make her scream until her voice cracks. Then kill her slowly.” He sneered, relishing the shock he hoped to see in their eyes. “And if she’s still alive, I’ll finish the job. I’ll send you her head as a gift.”

Jay felt something snap inside him. Mark’s words weren’t just words anymore; they were blades, fangs digging into his flesh, into his soul. Mark’s laughter echoed through the room, amplified by the echo. A black, unfathomable rage seized him, but he forced himself to stay still, his hands clenched at his sides, shaking with the effort.

Sunghoon, who had been hanging back until then, stepped forward slowly. His movements were almost methodical, deliberately measured. First he removed the cufflinks from his shirt, letting the buttons fall with a soft thud. Then he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms, each movement calculated, a ritual before the slaughter. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. His mere presence was a silent threat, an omen of pain to come. He picked up a metal baseball bat that had been lying in the corner of the room, his fingers tightening around the handle with frightening familiarity.

The metal scraped against the ground with a dull, metallic sound, a deadly rumble that echoed through the heavy air. Sunghoon stepped closer to Mark, his eyes as cold as stone, and twirled the bat between his fingers, the head of the weapon resting mere inches from Mark's left hand. He pressed gently, just enough to feel the pressure without causing immediate pain.

“Choose,” Sunghoon whispered, his voice cold as death. “Head, legs, or belly.”

Mark didn't lose his composure. He sneered again, blood mingling with his sneers, and spat out one last taunt. "I choose your fucking bitch."

It was instantaneous. The metal bat rose through the air with disconcerting speed, slicing through space with a terrifying hiss. Then it came down on Mark’s face with inhuman brutality. The crack that followed was vile. The sound of bone breaking, flesh tearing. Mark’s nose exploded on impact, sending blood and teeth flying across the dirty floor. He screamed, but the sound was muffled by the pain, his dislocated jaw making his cries almost unintelligible.

Blood spurted out in abundance, a red cascade that spread across his chest, soaking his clothes. His head fell back, hanging, as he fought not to lose consciousness. But the pain was too raw, too absolute. The metal had left its mark on him, not only on his face, but in his soul.

Jay stepped closer, watching the spectacle with cold satisfaction. The sight of Mark, writhing in pain, his face unrecognizable from the blows, filled Jay with a certain unhealthy calm. It was as if, finally, things were falling into place again.

“Good shot, Hoon,” Jay said, his voice devoid of any warmth, his gaze fixed on Mark who was panting, trying to spit out the blood that was filling his mouth. But that was just the beginning. Jay wasn’t done with him yet. None of them were done.

Heeseung snorted, a low, menacing sound that seemed to vibrate through the thick air of the room. He reached into his pants pocket and slowly pulled out a Swiss Army knife, playing the blade between his fingers with eerie fluidity. The metallic click sounded cold and sharp as the dim light of the basement reflected off the gleaming steel. Heeseung moved forward, each step a dull echo on the bare concrete floor, until he stood right next to Mark, the man tied to the chair, his face swollen and bloodied but still defiant. That smirk on his chapped lips hadn’t faded yet. He thought he could still play.

Heeseung stared at him for a moment, his dark eyes betraying a world of inner chaos. Mark had tried to push you away from him. Worse yet, he had hurt you, and every thought that brought Heeseung back to that reality made a cold, almost uncontrollable rage swell within him. His fingers clenched around the handle of the knife as he fought the urge to immediately plunge the blade into this man’s throat. No. He couldn’t kill him right now. Not yet. It would have been too easy, too quick. Mark had to understand. He had to suffer.

Heeseung stopped in front of him, right next to Sunghoon, who was leaning nonchalantly on the bat now covered in blood and his closed face betrayed the same contained anger. Silence had settled between them, a heavy, oppressive silence, which seemed to seep into every corner of the room. The only thing that could be heard was Mark's erratic breathing, a mixture of fear and pain. Heeseung slowly slid the blade of his knife over the man's collarbone, a cold caress, almost sensual, but terrifying in its promise. Mark shuddered under the threat, his body reacting instinctively to the presence of the weapon against his bare skin.

“Where did the strong man you claimed to be go?” Heeseung whispered, his voice soft, almost whispered, but with a hint of icy irony. His fingers pressed the knife a little harder against Mark’s collarbone, without piercing the skin. He wanted the man to feel the imminence of the pain, to dread it before it even arrived. Time seemed suspended in this anticipation.

Mark, despite the situation, managed to maintain his smile, a smirk twisted by pain, but still arrogant. "Fuck... yourself," he spat with difficulty, hatred oozing from each word. But behind his bloodshot eyes, fear was beginning to pierce. He knew that what he felt now was only a prelude.

Heeseung smiled back, a smile devoid of humanity, before suddenly and brutally plunging the blade into Mark’s thigh. A scream pierced the air, a cry of pure agony, echoing off the walls like a gunshot. The knife sank deep into flesh, tearing muscle, severing nerves. Heeseung didn’t just stab it in—he moved the weapon inside, slowly torturing every fiber, every tendon. Blood gushed out in abundance, trickling down Mark’s thigh, forming a dark pool beneath the chair. The veins in his neck bulged as he tried to hold back his screams, but he couldn’t. The pain was too intense, too devastating to contain.

Tears quickly blurred his vision, mixing with the sweat and blood that streamed down his face in uninterrupted streams. His moans, his gasps, resonated like torture. But Heeseung did not let himself be softened by these sounds. No, this was exactly what he wanted to hear. Each cry was a note in the symphony of vengeance he was conducting. He yanked the knife away, sending a spray of blood onto his own face. He did not even care, his predatory smile stretching as he looked down at his trembling victim, Mark's muscles contracting involuntarily because of the pain.

Without a word, Heeseung stabbed the knife again, this time into Mark's right hand. The sound of the blade piercing flesh and bone was drowned out by Mark's scream, much louder, much more desperate. His entire body convulsed as he tried to wrench his hand free, but the restraints held him firmly in place, denying him any escape. Heeseung twisted the knife, slowly, making the bones crack under the pressure, savoring every moan that escaped Mark's lips.

“Funny, you’re much louder now,” Heeseung commented with icy coldness, watching Mark writhe in pain, his eyes wide open, filled with an almost animal terror. But for Heeseung, it still wasn’t enough. Every blow landed, every scream torn out, couldn’t extinguish the burning guilt that consumed him. Nothing could erase the fact that he had failed to protect you. Every drop of blood spilled was an insufficient offering to the hatred he felt towards himself.

Sunghoon, who had been hanging back until then, stepped forward in silence, observing the scene with a calm and icy intensity. He leaned forward slightly, his hands playing with the blood-dripping metal bat he held carelessly. "Did you really think this was going to be okay for you?" he whispered in a low, menacing voice, his black eyes fixed on Mark's, unable to answer, too overwhelmed by the pain.

Sunghoon slowly lifted the metal bat, dragging it along the ground with a dull, terrifying squeak. Mark, despite his pain, tried to straighten up, as if anticipating the blow, but it was useless. Sunghoon brought the bat down with brutal force on his knee. The sound of the impact was excruciating, a loud crack that resonated like a dry branch breaking under the weight of winter. Mark screamed at the top of his lungs, his body bucking forward from the wrenching pain that radiated from his shattered knee. The impact sent him over the edge, and he nearly collapsed on his side, but the ropes holding him prevented him from escaping his hell.

Sunghoon, unperturbed, brought the bat down a second time, then a third. Each blow resounded like an irrevocable sentence, each cry torn from Mark seemed to be lost in nothingness. His legs were now masses of deformed flesh and blood. His body no longer responded, only his mind, prisoner of immeasurable suffering, continued to resist, weakly, the horror that was playing out around him.

Jay moved forward, the chains in his hand rattling in an ominous rhythm that echoed through the heavy, oppressive air. Each sound of metal seemed to amplify the palpable fear in Mark's eyes as he struggled to back away. His hands were bound, and the sharp pain of his dislocated jaw now had him screaming silently, his inaudible pleas mingling with his desperation. He was trapped, locked in a dark room where the only escape seemed to be death.

Jay stopped a few feet away from him, surrounded by Heeseung and Sunghoon, who shared the same devilish grin. His gaze fixed on Mark, a glint of delight in his eyes, as he tightened the chains, the echo of the metal resonating like a promise of pain.

“You’re not getting out of here alive… Mark,” Jay whispered, his voice low and icy, each word dripping with menace. He wrapped the chain around his hand, anticipation making his muscles quiver. With a sudden movement, he slammed the chain against Mark’s skin, the impact echoing through the air like a clap of thunder.

Mark's scream cut through the air, a howl of pain and terror that echoed off the walls of the room. His eyes widened as he realized the magnitude of what was coming his way. "No! Please! Don't do this!" he stammered, but his voice was choked with fear. Jay, however, showed no mercy.

With a ferocious rage, he continued his attack, the chain lashing at Mark's flesh. The blows piled up, leaving deeper and deeper marks, tearing skin and drawing blood. Jay watched in insane satisfaction, the hatred burning inside him spilling over every bit of flesh. The blood spatters burst onto his clothes like shards of macabre paint, staining him a dark red, each drop bringing a thrill of excitement through him.

Heeseung, watching with a predatory grin, took a step forward. “You know, Mark, they always said that pain was an art,” he said mockingly, his sugary voice contrasting with the brutality of the scene. He cleaned his Swiss Army knife, the blade gleaming in the dim light. “And we’re here to create our masterpiece.”

Mark, tears in his eyes, felt the pain invade every fiber of his being. Jay's gaze, mad and unleashed, focused on him. "Remember what you did," he whispered before striking again. The chain fell on his chest, tearing a cry of despair, while blood dripped, mixing with the sweat and anguish that permeated the air.

Each blow was a statement, an assertion of power over his life. “You dared to betray us,” Jay continued, his voice vibrating with dull anger. “You think you can get away with this?” He raised the chain, making it flash in the light before bringing it down with redoubled force, the sound of metal against flesh like a battle cry.

The blows came one after another, relentless. Mark could feel his flesh tearing, each impact sending waves of searing pain through his body. The taste of iron, of his own blood, invaded his mouth, but he was helpless. The anguish and the pain intertwined, creating a whirlwind of horror in his mind, a reality he could no longer bear.

“This is so much fun,” Heeseung whispered, reaching out with the knife. He slid the blade across Mark’s skin, creating a red line that quickly turned into a stream of blood. “Look at how much pain he’s in. It’s almost beautiful.” His smile was sinister, each word charged with perverse euphoria.

Mark squirmed, struggling against his bonds, but every movement only made the pain worse. He could feel his body weakening, the warmth of his blood pooling around him. “I… I’m not…” he stammered, but the words choked in his throat. The pain was taking over everything, and he knew he was at the mercy of these monsters.

Jay continued to rage at him, each blow harder than the last, Mark's face twisting under the impact. "We're going to make an example of you," Jay yelled, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. "A warning to anyone who dares come near us!"

Sunghoon's laughter rang through the room, a haughty and cruel sound. "We're not going to kill you right away. No, we have other plans for you." He stepped closer, taking malicious pleasure in observing Mark's pain, his suffering becoming their entertainment.

Jay lifted the chain one last time, the movement slow and thick with menace. “You see, Mark, the pain you feel is nothing compared to what we felt because of you,” he said in a dark, almost contemplative tone. Then he brought the chain down with titanic force, the impact causing an eerie crack, the sound of flesh breaking under the weight of hatred.

Mark, lost in an ocean of pain, closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that this was all just a nightmare. But reality hit him with renewed force, every drop of blood that flowed, every pain inflicted, bringing him back to the cruelty of his existence.

Heeseung, still with his knife, leaned close to him, almost tenderly. “We’ll make sure you remember this night… even in death,” he whispered. The touch of the blade on his skin was icy, causing a new wave of shivers.

“You hurt our family,” Jay added, a burning intensity in his gaze. “And we’re going to make sure you regret it, until your dying breath.”

Mark's tears and snot flowed relentlessly, a desperate stream mixing with the blood that bathed his wounds. Darkness surrounded his mind, and the pain continued to increase, each blow bringing him closer to the inevitable. But deep within him, something still resided—a spark of resistance that refused to be extinguished.

Jake held you so tightly against him that you could feel every rapid beat of his heart, every sigh he let out. Lying on top of you, his body wrapped around yours like a protective shield. You were unable to move under his embrace, but you didn't want to. Everything about the way he touched you, the way he held you, spoke of fear and relief. A deep, almost primal fear, as if he had feared losing you forever, and an equally intense relief to know you were still there, alive, breathing beneath him.

The hours had passed without you realizing it. Darkness had slowly engulfed the room, but neither of you who were there had moved, not even to turn on a light. You didn't need to. The only thing that mattered was the slow rhythm of your synchronized breaths, the soothing caresses of your fingers in his hair, and the way his tears silently slid down your skin, leaving salty traces that you sometimes felt mixing with yours.

You had tried several times to reassure him, to whisper to him that you were there, that you weren’t going anywhere, but nothing seemed to be enough. Jake didn’t answer you. He stayed there, clinging to you like a dream he was afraid would fade away. His head was nestled against your chest, his hot, irregular breath gently tickling your skin through the thin fabric of your top. He clung to you, his fingers gripping your waist with a silent urgency, as if he was squeezing you with all his might to keep you with him.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, his voice came out, weak and shaky. “You know…” he began, his throat tight with emotion. He trailed off, as if searching for words, fighting the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. You felt his body tense slightly against yours, and you knew he was about to tell you something that had been weighing heavily on his heart for a long time.

His voice shook again as he spoke again, almost inaudible. “If you hadn’t woken up… I would have joined you.” His words, so simple yet so full of despair, hit you like a punch. They hung in the air between you, and you felt your heart clench painfully at the confession. He couldn’t live without you, and the brutal sincerity of that reality left you speechless.

You wanted to answer him, to tell him that everything was okay now, but before you could even say his name, Jake cut you off. “I know what you’re going to say, Y/n.” His voice, even broken, was soft, filled with that infinite tenderness he always had for you. He buried his head a little more against your chest, as if he needed to hear the reassuring beat of your heart again and again. “But that’s how much I love you…” His fingers gently caressed your stomach, slow and nervous movements that only strengthened the lump in your throat. “I can’t live without you.”

He looked up, his tear-swollen eyes finally meeting yours, and what you saw there shocked you. His pupils shone with a mixture of love and fear, a fear so deep that it seemed etched into his features. His lips trembled slightly, and you could almost feel his palpable distress in the air. He was trying to etch you into his memory, to reassure himself that you were really there, that you weren't a mirage.

“I… I love you too, Jake,” you finally answered in a weak voice, your words thick with emotion. Your fingers slid gently over his damp cheek, carefully wiping away the tears that continued to fall silently. You didn’t want him to cry. Seeing Jake, such a strong and protective man, break like this in front of you was tearing you apart inside. You wanted to be his strength, his anchor. “Why are you crying, did I say something wrong?” you whispered worriedly, trying to lighten the mood, but your own heart was beating too fast, trapped in its emotions.

Jake shook his head, a weak, fragile smile brushing his lips. He sniffled softly, his eyes closing for a moment as if he was savoring this closeness with you. “No, sweetheart.” His voice was a mixture of sweetness and pain, his words filled with immeasurable tenderness. Slowly, he sat up to lie beside you, but never breaking contact with you. He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging lightly on you so that your bodies were even closer.

He took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers with a delicacy that made you melt. He slowly brought your fingers to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle, his gestures filled with infinite tenderness. He lingered on your ring finger, his lips brushing against it as if he already saw it as a symbol of something greater. “I’m just so happy… happy that you finally love me the way I love you,” he whispered, his voice broken with emotion.

His eyes were searching you, as if he wanted to pierce your soul, to make sure that you really felt the same way, that this bond between you was real and indestructible. You felt his love, this palpable force that emanated from him, and it warmed you from the inside. There was nothing purer, more beautiful than this moment shared with him, this unconditional, unrestrained love.

“I’m sure I love you as much as you love me,” you whispered, your gaze locked with his, a small smile lighting up your features. You let a small laugh escape as you stole a kiss from him, light and tender, barely brushing his lips before shyly turning away. But Jake didn’t let you go. He immediately pulled you against him, pulling you even closer, his hand slipping behind your neck to keep you from pulling away again.

“Then love me as much as I love you.” His words were a whisper against your lips, barely audible, but so full of desire and need. He captured your lips in a slow, soft kiss, filled with infinite tenderness. He didn’t seek more, he didn’t want burning passion or fiery gestures. All he wanted was this moment of pure sweetness, of connection. His lips moved gently against yours, savoring every moment, every movement, as if he was trying to prolong this moment for eternity.

Time seemed to stretch as you stood there, lost in each other, your bodies in perfect harmony, your souls touching in a way that only those who love each other deeply can understand.

You finally emerge from a deep sleep, groaning softly under the delicate caresses of a hand that brushes your face. The sensations of warmth and softness envelop you, but the instinct to stay in the cozy cocoon of your dreams urges you to push this hand away. However, the caress becomes more insistent, softer, like a murmur of affection that slowly pulls you from your sleep. You groan once more, but the excess of softness pushes you to open your eyes.

Abruptly, you raise your head, and the unexpected shock of your forehead hitting Heeseung's nose makes you flinch. He lets out a small groan of surprise, his face contorting into a comical expression. Pulling back slightly, he touches his nose with a mock-hurt expression. "Ouch! Sorry, I'm sorry!" escapes your lips, a guilty glint in your eyes as you take his chin in your hand to inspect his nose.

“No bleeding,” you announce with relief, your heart relaxing a little as you fall back onto the pillow, trying to calm the frantic beating of your heart.

“I think you’re really trying to kill me, honey,” he says with a teasing smile, but you sense the underlying sadness in his voice, a tone you’ve learned to recognize over time. He tries to mask his worry, but his eyes betray his inner state.

You straighten up slightly, your eyes searching his. “What’s bothering you?” you ask, your voice soft as a caress, full of tenderness. He opens his mouth to answer, but you interrupt him gently before he can let his thoughts escape. “And don’t tell me anything,” you tell him, feigning a stern look as you point your finger at him. His small smile melts you, but you know that this is not the time to let his emotions pass.

“I failed you, Y/n…” He whispers the words, his voice soft, but the weight of guilt chokes him. “I didn’t protect you like I should have.” Lowering his head, he avoids your gaze, afraid that you’ll see the shame that eats away at his heart. Each word weighs heavily in the air, and you feel a dull ache gnawing at you from the inside.

“Hee… you never let me down,” you say with infinite tenderness, wanting to reassure him. “None of you did, and if something happened, it was for a reason.” You try to make him smile, to chase away the shadow that haunts him. You laugh softly, an attempt at lightness to ease the tense atmosphere. But he pulls away a little before you can reach him, and the sight of his clenched fists breaks your heart. You know he’s struggling with his emotions, and it saddens you deeply.

“Yell at me, tell me it’s my fault, but don’t lie to me… I couldn’t take it,” he whispers, his voice shaking and thick with pain. His tears start to fall, and he kneels before you, a broken man at the mercy of his own demons. Each word resonates like a clap of thunder in your chest. “I was always told to protect the woman I love… but I failed you. I failed miserably. Do I even deserve to live after this, Y/n?”

Tears slide down his cheeks, and you are overcome by a wave of emotion. Without hesitation, you stand up and fall to your knees in front of him, hugging him with all your strength. “Hee… please don’t say that,” you plead, your voice broken with sobs. “You’ve never failed anywhere, okay?” Your arms tighten around him, caressing his back tenderly to comfort him. “You’ve always protected me, I promise. And if you die, how will I survive losing you? How will I survive losing the man I love?”

Your cries intensify, a torrent of pain and despair as you hold him even tighter against you, trying to hold back the rising anguish. The thought of losing him seems unbearable, and you feel like every tear shed is a piece of your heart breaking.

Heeseung sniffles as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears, still so full of sorrow. “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart,” he says softly, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs gently sliding over your damp cheeks. “My wife never apologizes for anything in front of me, because she’s never wrong.” His gaze grows intense, searching for comforting truth in your misty eyes.

“I love you, Hee,” you whisper, a sincere affirmation filled with warmth. You nod slowly, hanging on every word he says. His small smile lights up his face, a glimmer of hope even through his tears. Holding you close, he breathes in your scent, and you can feel the tension between you ease, like a breath of serenity enveloping you.

“I love you too… I love you so much,” he whispers, his voice vibrating with emotion. His hands tenderly caress your hair, sliding gently through your locks, as if he wants to etch you into his memory. He keeps you firmly anchored against him, and in this embrace, you know that this is where you should be.

The beats of your hearts match, creating a soothing melody. In this fragile moment, enveloped by the warmth of your love, you know that you are together, united in this delicate dance where each tear shed becomes a step towards healing. Each smile exchanged, a promise of a better future.

You hear his heart, beating in unison with yours, and the soft harmony soothes you. He leans towards you then, his eyes shining with a tender light. “Promise me you’ll never leave me,” he says, his voice quivering with palpable worry.

“I promise,” you answer without hesitation, the sincerity of your words echoing like a sweet melody in the warm air between you.

He leans down gently, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, an exchange of love and silent promises. It’s a soft kiss, filled with warmth and sweetness, a moment suspended in time where everything seems perfect. Your lips melt to his, and you feel a wave of warmth invade your heart, each shiver running down your spine a testament to the love between you.

In that moment, the outside world becomes a blur, worries fade away, and you realize that as long as you're together, you can weather any storm. He hugs you tighter, as if to keep you close, and you know that in his arms, you're safe.

After a long moment, he breaks the kiss, his eyes boring into yours, trying to read every nuance of your thoughts. “Stay with me,” he murmurs, and you nod, knowing that’s what you want more than anything.

“I will always stay with you,” you promise, and in his eyes you see the determination of love, a love that has overcome so many trials, that is stronger than all fears.

Together, you snuggle, wrapped in a comforting embrace, the outside world no longer mattering. In this bubble of warmth and love, every shared sigh becomes a promise, every heartbeat a hymn to your unwavering connection.

Your stomach rumbles softly, interrupting the soothing calm that had settled between you. Heeseung, sitting in front of you, continues to caress your back with a slow and reassuring gesture, a slight amused smile playing on his lips. His fingers brush your skin with that usual delicacy, as if he were weaving an invisible thread between you through each contact. The warmth of his hand warms you, envelops you in a bubble of security that makes you want to stay there for eternity.

“Jay’s in the kitchen,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and gentle, like an extra caress to your senses. “If you go now, I think he’ll be almost done already.” He speaks with that quiet nonchalance, but every word is laced with that subtle affection you feel in every move he makes.

Heeseung then leans slightly towards you, placing a kiss on your forehead, a gesture so tender that it makes you close your eyes, savoring this simple contact. His lips are soft, and this kiss, although short, leaves a lasting imprint on you, a trace of heat that persists long after he has moved away from you. You let out a small moan, almost involuntary, when his body detaches from yours, and you open an eye, disappointed to see him already moving away. This distance already seems too great to you.

Your gaze scans the room for Jake, but his absence is quickly noticed. The bed he was lying in is empty, and a feeling of emptiness briefly overwhelms you. But Heeseung, attentive as always, seems to guess the question floating on your lips before you even formulate it.

“He went for his morning jog,” he explains soothingly, his soft eyes settling on you. “He’ll be back around ten or eleven, don’t worry, honey.” His smile widens slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “He was absolutely glowing this morning.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, a sound that fills the room with a welcome lightness, and you can't help but smile back. This moment is so simple, so natural, but at the same time, it is filled with infinite tenderness. You let yourself be lulled by this atmosphere, by the softness of his voice and the reassuring warmth of his presence.

After a moment, you slowly straighten up, your muscles still heavy from sleep, and you lean towards Heeseung to place a light kiss on the tip of his nose, a playful gesture that makes him smile. He closes his eyes under this soft touch, his eyelashes lightly tickling your skin. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is even more tender than before, filled with a silent but palpable affection. It's one of those looks that melts you, that makes you feel loved unconditionally.

“I’ll see you later,” you whisper softly, reluctantly pulling away, but with the promise of finding him again soon. Just knowing that you’re expected, that this love and warmth surrounds you, gives you a certain serenity.

You walk with legs still slightly numb, and you head towards the kitchen where Jay must be preparing something. However, lost in the grandeur of the mansion, you find yourself taking the wrong path, and, at the turn of a corridor, you land by chance in the bathroom.

In front of you stands Sunghoon, a simple towel wrapped around his waist, his body still wet from his recent shower. Small drops of water slowly slide down his torso, drawing winding paths on his lightly tanned skin. The soft light of the room highlights every curve of his body, and your breath catches briefly at the sight.

“Rabbit,” he says in a low voice, almost a whisper, as a tender smile touches his lips. Yet, something in his posture unsettles you. Usually so sure of himself, you see him hesitant today, almost uncomfortable. He looks away slightly, as if trying to avoid your eyes.

You stare at him, intrigued. His movements are clumsy, as if he doesn't know what to do with his hands anymore, his things almost falling from his fingers without him paying attention. This unusual clumsiness in him makes you frown.

“I… I’ll leave the place to you,” he finally says, his voice hesitant, almost evasive. He steps aside, trying to sneak away, but you quickly step in front of him, blocking his exit from your body. Something is wrong, and you refuse to let him go without understanding what’s bothering him.

“Since when have you been so clumsy, Mr. Perfection?” you whisper softly, your voice tinged with a slight mockery of affection. But beneath that light tone, you seek to understand what is truly troubling him. He still avoids your gaze, backing away again, but you move forward, closing the distance between you until his back gently meets the tiled wall.

“And since when are you so nervous around me? This is new, I must say.” Your hands come to rest delicately on his chest, feeling the warmth of his still damp skin under your fingers. The contact is tender, comforting, as if you were trying to soothe the tensions you feel in him.

“Y/n!” he growls softly, but his voice lacks strength. His gaze, usually so piercing, seems today clouded, full of confusion and restraint. He tries to move away, but there is no more space between you. His hands, always so sure, remain still, as if paralyzed by emotion.

“You don’t call me bunny anymore?” you continue lightly, your fingers gently tracing a line on his abs, following the path of the water drops sliding down his skin. “Have you found someone else?” you joke, but beneath your words lies genuine concern.

Your hand moves down further, but before you can go any further, Sunghoon grabs your wrist firmly, his gaze finally locked with yours.

“Stop playing with me, and you know damn well it’s just you, bunny.” His voice, initially hoarse, softens as he tries to pull away a little, but instead of pushing you away completely, he slides his arms around you to keep you from going too far. His breathing is heavy, as if he’s trying to control himself, his eyes staring at you with a disconcerting intensity. Yet, you see past his facade, you perceive this tenderness that he tries to hide behind his seriousness.

In one fluid motion, he slowly turns you around, leading you against the cool tiles of the bathroom. But he doesn't pin you down, he guides you, his hand sliding down your back, almost protective. The contact with the cool tiles contrasts with the warmth of his body against yours, which makes you gasp slightly. You look at him, searching for an answer in his eyes, but instead of speaking, he just devours you with his gaze, as if he's trying to understand what's happening between you, as if this moment is too precious to be rushed.

“But if you keep this up… there might be baby bunnies,” he murmurs, a soft, tender smile playing on his lips, softening his remark. There’s no trace of stiffness or restraint in his voice anymore. His words are filled with warmth and affection, as if he wants to combine humor with the intensity of this moment. He places a hand on your stomach, not to hold you, but to feel you, to keep a physical connection between you.

You shiver under the softness of his touch, but something deep inside you tells you there’s more. Something deeper than this game, something more vulnerable. You can feel it, in the way he watches you, in the hesitant way he touches you, almost as if he’s afraid of breaking something between you. So you decide to push him to reveal himself, to confront him, not with harsh words, but with the gentleness that will disarm him.

“Park…” your voice is soft, almost a whisper. You raise a trembling hand to him, your fingers delicately brushing his arms. His skin shivers under your touch, and you press yourself a little closer to him, your body seeking the comforting warmth of his. He doesn’t move, his muscles tense under your fingers, as if he’s holding something back, as if he’s afraid of what this moment might reveal. Your hands slide gently along his biceps, and you sense a hesitation in him, a vulnerability he tries to hide behind a facade of strength.

But you know him too well. You know he's not just this mask of perfection he puts on. There's more, much more beneath the surface. So, without letting go, you pull him against you, wrapping your arms tightly around him, refusing to give him the space he tries to maintain. Your tears, which you've been holding back for a long time, start to fall, slowly, silently. They betray the intensity of your emotions, your need to show him that you're there, that you don't want him to hide his truths from you, even the ones that make him more fragile.

Beneath you, he freezes, surprised by the intensity of your tears. But as you cling to him, his arms instinctively close around you. His hands slide into your hair, gently caressing your locks soaked with your own tears. He holds you against him, rocking you gently, as if to soothe your pain. His breath becomes shorter, and you can feel his throat tighten against your cheek.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you whisper through your tears, your voice breaking under the weight of emotion. You pull back slightly, enough to gaze into his eyes. Your eyes, reddened by tears, desperately search for an answer in his gaze, a mutual understanding of what you’re going through together. He looks at you with infinite tenderness, a pain he can no longer hide. His jaw is clenched, as if he’s fighting the urge to cry with you.

“I love you,” you finally say, in a barely audible breath, but with such sincerity that the words seem to weigh on your lips. You feel him tremble slightly under your body, and he closes his eyes for a moment, as if the words are overwhelming him. He lets them sink in, welcomes them like a wave that sweeps away everything in its path.

He pulls back slightly, opening his eyes, and you can see confusion in his gaze, a sort of disbelief. “You… you love me?” His voice is a mix of surprise and fear. He doesn’t move anymore, as if he’s afraid that reality will shatter if he dares to hope that your words are true. His eyes roam your face, searching for confirmation, for a truth to hold on to.

You nod slowly, tears still flowing freely down your cheeks. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. “I am completely in love with you.” Your words are fragile, but carried by a certainty that you can no longer ignore. Your heart beats so hard in your chest that you wonder if he can hear it. Slowly, you lean down to place your lips on his forehead, kissing every mole, every patch of skin with infinite tenderness. Each kiss is a promise, a silent declaration of love, a way for you to show him how much you care.

Under your kisses, he lets out a shaky sigh, his warm breath caressing your skin. His hands slide over your hips, pulling you even closer to him, as if he were afraid of losing you at this moment. His eyes close slowly under the intensity of your attention, and he lets a solitary tear run down his cheek. This vulnerability that you see in him touches you deeply, and you finally understand that he never wanted to hide his emotions from you, but that he was simply afraid to give in to them.

You find each other, your faces close, your breaths mingling, and your lips brush in a soft, almost shy kiss. It's a kiss full of promise, of all those things you haven't said yet, but already know. There's no rush, no burning passion in this gesture. Just an infinite tenderness, a gentle warmth that envelops each of you. The salty taste of your tears mixes with the softness of your lips, and this kiss becomes a refuge, a place where you can finally be completely yourselves.

When he pulls away slightly, he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with an emotion he no longer tries to hide. "I love you too, bunny." His words are so sweet, so full of love, that you feel your heart swell with happiness. He places a hand on your stomach, gently caressing your skin, as if he wanted to engrave this moment in his memory. Then, with infinite tenderness, he in turn places kisses on your face, following the path you had traced on his. Each kiss is a silent promise, a testimony of everything he feels for you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he whispers under his breath. “My heart couldn’t take it.” His voice is soft, tinged with a slight tremor, and you can feel how sincere his statement is. His fingers slide down your face, skimming your skin with infinite delicacy, gently wiping away the last of the tears that are pearling on your cheeks.

You smile softly, caressing his face in return. “I promise I won’t do it again, old man,” you joke, your voice soft, full of love and newfound lightness. You run your hands over his body, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, before pulling away slowly, a mischievous smile on your lips. “Come on, go get dressed before you get all wrinkled and crumpled.” Your voice is teasing, but filled with deep affection.

He looks at you, a disbelieving smile playing on his lips, before letting out a soft, light laugh. “What? Rabbit, seriously, who’s the old man here?” he calls out jokingly, as you walk away, laughing softly, your heart still pounding in your chest.

You stand there, in front of the kitchen door, as if you were frozen in time. Your hand rests gently on the handle, but you don't dare to open it immediately. Behind that door, you know he's there. You can almost feel his presence, like a heavy shadow that seems to invade the air of the house. A wave of inexplicable sadness invades you. Your heart beats faster and faster, and you close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm the flood of emotions that threatens to overwhelm you. It takes you a few seconds before you finally let out a small sigh and decide to enter.

When the door opens, a soft light bathes the kitchen in a soft, almost soothing atmosphere. But the atmosphere is heavy, and there he is, sitting at the table, completely still. Jay looks exhausted, as if he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. His apron is tied carelessly around his waist, and his shirt, slightly open, reveals a sweat-damp torso, proof that he has probably spent hours trying to forget, to occupy his mind with mechanical gestures. His fingers are wrapped around a half-smoked cigarette, which he holds between his lips, the smoke rising lazily towards the ceiling.

You stop for a moment, your gaze fixed on him. He is magnificent, despite the aura of fatigue and sadness that surrounds him. His hair, a little messy, falls carelessly on his forehead, and you notice the droplets of sweat that still bead on his skin. He seems lost in his thoughts, his eyes closed, his head slightly tilted forward. He hasn't seen you yet.

Your gaze briefly slides to the ashtray on the table, and your heart tightens a little more. The ashtray is filled with cigarette butts, all barely consumed. He must have spent a long time here, alone, smoking nervously. Each cigarette, half abandoned, seems like an attempt to calm a storm he can't control. A dull ache seizes you in the chest as you realize how bad he must be, and you find yourself feeling this almost desperate urge to comfort him.

You approach him slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. The closer you get, the more you can feel the tension in his shoulders, the tightness that betrays how close he is to collapse. Without a word, you whisper his name, barely a breath, as if you were afraid of breaking him further. “Jay…”

At your call, he slowly opens his eyes, his eyelids heavy with fatigue, as if he were struggling against an invisible weight. When he looks at you, there is a sparkle in his eyes that squeezes your heart. It is not a sparkle of joy or surprise, but something deeper, darker. It is a mixture of sadness, fear, and maybe even a pain that he tries to hide. He cracks a smile, but you see right away that it is forced, that it cannot reach his eyes. "Hey, you," he whispers hoarsely.

You don't hesitate a second longer. You step closer, your instinct pushing you to be close to him, to make sure he knows you're there, with him, for him. You lean down slightly, and without saying anything, you gently run your hand through his hair. His locks are slightly damp with sweat, and your fingers slide slowly through them, caressing his forehead in a gesture as tender as possible. He closes his eyes under your touch, as if he were trying to abandon himself to this moment, to this sweetness that you offer him without reserve.

“Jay,” you repeat softly, your heart clenching a little more with each passing moment. He opens his eyes again and looks at you with an intensity that catches you off guard. He seems about to say something, but you sense that he is too exhausted, too lost to find the words.

You sit gently on his lap, settling against him with an almost instinctive familiarity. Your legs on either side of his, you move a little closer, making sure that your body against his brings him silent comfort. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers delicately caressing the base of his neck. He then places his free hand on your thigh, his palm warm against your skin, as if he needs to feel you there, against him, as if he is afraid that you will disappear if you are not close enough.

He looks up at you, his fingers trembling slightly against your skin. “Did you cry?” he whispers, his voice barely a breath. His eyes are full of worry, but he’s so tired, so upset, that he has a hard time keeping his gaze on you.

You nod slowly, cracking a small smile, even though your heart is heavy with sadness for him. “Just a little,” you admit under your breath, trying to minimize the impact of your own emotions so as not to burden him further. “But it’s okay.” Your voice is meant to be reassuring, soothing, and you let out a soft, almost shy laugh, hoping that it will lighten his load, even just a little.

You continue to run your fingers through his hair, gently caressing each strand, and you feel his body slowly relax beneath you. His shoulders, once tense, begin to sag, and his breathing becomes more regular. You finally feel him release some of the tension he's been accumulating for so long.

“I think you’re the one who’s sad,” you finally whisper, breaking the silence delicately. You place a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, a simple gesture but filled with affection, tenderness. He frowns slightly, surprised, and a very light pink colors his cheeks. It’s almost imperceptible, but you see it, and it warms your heart to know that you can still elicit this kind of reaction from him, even in his darkest moments.

He shakes his head gently, but his smile fades almost immediately. "I'm not sad," he says, but his voice lacks conviction. "Baby, I'm fine." He slowly brings the cigarette to his lips, but you can see from the look in his eyes that he doesn't even believe it himself. You give him a look full of softness and understanding, and he sighs heavily before placing the cigarette back in the ashtray.

“I’m just angry,” he finally admits, his voice barely above a whisper. He places his hand back on your thigh, and this time, his grip is a little tighter, a little more desperate, like he needs to hold on to you to keep from falling apart.

“And…fuck, I’m so scared.” Jay’s voice trembles, each word seeming to escape him like a painful confession. His eyes, usually shining with trust, are now clouded with palpable fear, a vulnerability you’ve never seen in him. He’s not just scared; he’s terrified. The hand that’s firmly gripping your thigh trembles slightly, betraying the anxiety that’s taking over him.

You feel your heart clench. “Jay—” you start, but he cuts you off, his quivering voice taking on a more desperate tone.

“No, let me finish.” His eyes lock onto yours with a desperate intensity, as if he’s searching for an anchor in the storm raging inside him. You nod, understanding that this is a crucial moment for him. Your hand slides gently down his back, caressing him tenderly, an instinctive gesture to comfort him. His breathing becomes a little more regular under your touch, but you can feel the tension in his muscles, a mixture of fear and resignation.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life…” He takes a deep breath, his gaze wandering into space for a moment, as if reliving a traumatic experience. “And I don’t want it to happen again. I don’t know if I could survive without you…” Each word rings like a distress bell, and you feel a shiver run through your body, the reality of his words sinking deep into your heart.

You know what he feels is a mix of fear and love. It’s a vulnerable confession, and in that moment, you realize how much he needs you. “I love you too much, Y/n, for shit like this to happen to you,” he continues, his voice cracking, each syllable a silent cry for your safety. He bites his bottom lip, and you can see the tears glistening in his eyes, ready to spill over. His fragility touches you in ways you never imagined. He’s usually so strong, so protective, and seeing him like this, helpless and exposed, breaks your heart.

“You won’t lose me,” you say, each word a promise, a declaration of your commitment. “I’m yours, remember?” You feel like those words are the most powerful you can give him. You’re here, and you always will be. He nods slowly, his gaze betraying an inner struggle. You see his face tighten slightly, and you know he’s trying to hold back tears, not show you how broken he is.

He buries his face in your chest, seeking refuge. Your arms instinctively wrap around him, and you pull him closer, holding him against you as if you can protect him from all the pain in the world. “Y/n…” he whispers, and it’s a cry for help, a desperate need for connection. You can feel his tears seeping through your top, soaking the fabric with his pain, and it hurts to know how vulnerable he feels.

You continue your caresses on his back, tracing soothing circles, each movement slow and delicate. It’s a gesture of tenderness, a way to show him that he’s not alone. “I love you and I’ll never… never… never let you go,” you promise, each word heavy with meaning. You place soft kisses on the top of his head, each touch a point of light in the darkness he feels. His cries intensify as you surround him with warmth, and you know he’s releasing everything he’s kept buried.

“I… I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he finally admits, his voice choked with sobs. He hates himself for being exposed like this, but you can also see the gratitude in his misty eyes, a recognition that you’re there for him, that you’re the only one who can see this side of him. “I’m supposed to be strong… but…” His voice trails off, leaving a raw vulnerability that breaks your heart.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Jay,” you say softly, your fingers still playing with his hair, trying to give him some comfort. “It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to cry.” The words seem to hang in the air, a soothing truth, and you see a slight shift in his gaze, a mixture of surprise and relief. For him, this must be a revelation. He’s always thought he had to be the pillar, but now you’re giving him permission to be human, to be vulnerable.

His hands find your waist, fingers wrapping around your body like a vine seeking support. “I’ve never had someone make me feel so safe,” he says with heartbreaking sincerity, his eyes searching yours to confirm that you’re here, that you’re real. In that moment, you see the weight of his fear lift slightly, replaced by a comforting warmth.

“Then let me be the one to hold you,” you whisper, your eyes locked with his. “I want to be there for all your fears, all your joys. Together.” His gaze softens, a glimmer of hope shining through the lingering tears. He straightens slightly, his face inches from yours, and you see the conflict in his eyes, the desire to believe your words, but also the fear of reality.

“I don’t want to see you suffer because of me,” he whispers, and it’s like a sword sticking into your heart. Every word he says is a weight, a burden he carries alone. You know he feels guilty for his condition, for his fears, but you’re there to remind him that he doesn’t have to carry this burden alone.

“You’re not hurting me,” you say, your voice firm but gentle. “I want you to be open with me, to share all of this. That’s how we move forward together.” You know it will take time, that the road will be strewn with obstacles, but you’re willing to travel it with him.

“I’ve never had anyone understand me like you do,” he finally says, his words floating between you like a promise. He leans closer, seeking a reassuring closeness, and you can feel the warmth of his body blending with yours. The contact becomes a bubble of protection, a cocoon where you can hide from the realities outside.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him fervently, your hand caressing his face once more, touching him tenderly. “No matter what happens, I’m by your side.” His tears continue to fall, but now they’re a mixture of sadness and relief, and you know he’s starting to find comfort in this connection.

“Y/n…” He whispers your name, and it’s like a song, a sweet word filled with all the promises and hopes you share. He straightens up slightly, your faces so close you can feel his breath on your skin. His heartbeat resonates in his chest, and you know he feels the same intensity of emotion you do.

You lean forward, your lips almost brushing, and in that space, you know you could lose him, but you could also save him. “I love you, Jay,” you say, your voice filled with sweetness. “I’ll always be here, for you, with you.”

“I love you too,” he whispers against your lips, his voice barely audible, but each word echoes like a soft melody in the air. His words slip delicately between you, creating an intimate space where the outside world disappears. Then, he moves a little closer, closing the distance between you.

His lips touch yours with infinite tenderness, as if each kiss were a silent promise. Their movements are slow, almost hesitant at first, but charged with an overflowing love that only asks to be expressed. There is a softness in the touch of his lips, a quiver of emotions that makes your heart beat even faster. He moves his lips delicately against yours, caressing every millimeter with meticulous attention, as if he were trying to engrave this moment in his memory.

You can taste the slightly bitter taste of cigarettes on his lips, a mixture of his world and the intimacy you share. It’s a familiar taste, but what touches you most is the love that expresses itself through each movement, each press of his lips against yours. He gently teases your tongue with his, playing a soft game of back and forth that envelops you in a comforting warmth. It’s a moment suspended in time, where everything around you seems to fade away.

When he finally pulls away, he doesn’t quite pull away. Instead, he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes boring into yours, searching for an even deeper connection. There’s something so vulnerable and beautiful about that gesture, a desire to get closer beyond words. His eyes shine with an intensity that makes you smile, a glow full of promise and shared desire.

He holds you a little tighter against him, his arms wrapping around your body in protective softness. You can feel his heart beating in time with yours, a soft melody that resonates in this peaceful moment. 

Epilogue 

“I’m so glad you love us as much as we love you, Professor,” Heeseung murmurs softly, his soft voice floating in the air like a delicate melody. His lips brush your neck, trailing light kisses along your pulse, where life beats. Each touch of his skin against yours seems to cause a wave of heat, a shiver of affection that runs through your entire being. He keeps you seated on him, his arms protecting you like a cocoon of tenderness, and you can’t help but get lost in the intensity of his gaze.

“You know you’re our reason for living, right?” he adds, his eyes shining with an almost childlike sincerity. In that moment, you realize how much love surrounds you, a bubble of happiness that envelops you. You nod slowly, moved by the depth of his feelings, as you feel Jake tighten his grip on your thigh. His thumb slides delicately over your skin, creating a soft friction that makes you moan softly, a sound that resonates like a sweet melody in the air.

“You can never leave us again,” Jake whispers, his voice low and husky blending with the intensity of the moment. His eyes, dark and deep, bore into yours, captivating you. “Every inch of you is etched with our love, and I can’t even imagine a moment where you wouldn’t be by our side.” He pauses, his breathing intensifying, and you can feel the passion in his words. “You are our light, our star in the night. You understand that, don’t you, darling?” The softness of his question touches you deeply, and you can only nod, overwhelmed by the emotion that overwhelms you.

Sunghoon, watching this scene with palpable tenderness, takes your hand delicately. He brings it to his lips, placing kisses on it that seem to carry all his affection. His eyes sink into yours, and you feel an unwavering connection forming between you. “You are so precious to us,” he says, his voice trembling slightly under the weight of his emotions. “I could never imagine a world without you. Your presence lights up our lives in ways you can’t even understand.”

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and you’re aware of the wave of emotion that’s washing over you. “You’re my everything…” he continues, his voice growing more intense, almost desperate. “I don’t want that to change. I want every day to be a celebration of who we are together.” He traces invisible words into your palm, promises whispered in the privacy of this moment. “I love you deeply, and it only grows with each moment we share.”

As the intensity of the moment builds, Jay, unable to stay away, stands up and kneels in front of you, his hands sliding delicately up and down your legs. “Listen to me, sweet doll,” he begins, his voice filled with tenderness and determination. “I don’t just want you to be mine. I want you to be a part of me. I want you to carry my name and for us to build something beautiful together.” His eyes shine with an untamed passion, and you can almost feel the weight of his dreams and desires.

“Without you, I would be lost,” he continues, his voice growing more intense. “I imagine you in my life, in my arms, and it fills me with indescribable joy. I want to see your smile every day, hear your laugh, and share every moment with you. I couldn’t live a single day without you.” The intensity of his words touches you deeply, and you feel tears of joy running down your cheeks as you realize how connected you are.

Tears slowly fall down your cheeks as you sniffle, overwhelmed by the beauty of this unique bond. “I love you too, all four of you…” your voice trembles as you manage to articulate the words, loaded with immense meaning. “I’m so happy that my story ends with you.” The feeling of belonging is almost palpable, a warm, soft sensation that envelops you. “I would never have wanted it any other way. It’s you and me, forever.” Your smile emerges shyly, but it’s genuine, radiating pure happiness.

Jake, touched by your words, leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “You and me, hand in hand, until the end of time,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice soft and reassuring. Pulling back slightly, a tear slips from his eye, but his radiant smile lights up the room, a light of hope and love.

Sunghoon turns your face to his, and in that suspended moment, he presses his lips against yours. The softness of that kiss makes you shiver, and you know that every gesture, every caress, is loaded with promise and affection. “The end of our story ends with you,” he murmurs, his voice soft but determined. “I’m ready to do anything to make you happy. Every day, I want to prove to you how much you mean to us.” He rests his head against yours, and the light touch fills you with a comforting warmth.

Laughter and soft whispers float through the air, each glance you share strengthening your connection. You feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by these loving souls, knowing that you are bound by a love that transcends time and space. Each shared moment becomes a promise of a bright future, and you know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, you will overcome them together.

In the embrace of your emotions, you understand that your story is just beginning. The laughter, tears and love you share are the foundations of a life full of promises, dreams and memories to build together. In this bubble of happiness, you eagerly anticipate the future that awaits you, each moment being a new adventure to live together.

“No matter what happens, I’ll be there for you,” you promise, your heart overflowing with emotion. “We’re a team, and nothing can tear us apart.” The boys draw closer, forming a circle of love and support around you, and you know that this is the beginning of a beautiful adventure, that of a shared life, filled with tenderness and happiness.

©️devotedlypinkpeanut,do not copy, translate or repost any of my works.

[valkyrieromanoff]

God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

FIRST

CHAPTER TWO: DINER

synopsis: dinner with the Skywalker family becomes tense when Anakin's lingering glances and flirtatious comments about you blur the lines, leading to a drunken performance that upsets Padmé. What should have been simple becomes dangerously complicated.

warning: age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, mild flirting in front of his wife

words: 1.6k

a/n: hello there, I am really happy with your receptiveness to this idea, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I'll take this opportunity to let you know that there will be some hotter things happening, but we'll go through a little slow burn along the way (but not so slow, lol)… thanks again, and happy reading ;)

CHAPTER TWO: DINER

The dinner had been strange. You were already on edge, meeting the entire Skywalker family for the first time while keeping up the fragile lie of being Luke’s girlfriend. Lying wasn’t your strong suit, you had agreed that Luke would answer any relationship questions to not cause any suspicion. You kept the stories simple, only a date of the start of dating or a place, which you two already have gone, fearing you’d trip over more elaborate details.

Luke being late only made things worse. You tried to keep your nerves in check, smoothing invisible wrinkles in your light blue summer dress—a simple design that, to your surprise, drew a lingering glance from Anakin. You met his eyes and quickly looked away, unsure why his gaze left your skin tingling.

The awkward silence stretched until Padmé’s gentle voice broke it. “You must be Luke’s girlfriend. I’m glad to finally meet you,” she said with a polite smile, though her eyes seemed distant, the warmth not quite reaching them.

Anakin added, voice laced with playful sarcasm, “Though Luke didn’t mention you existed until two days ago.” Padmé elbowed her husband. “Hey,” he murmured, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

Padmé's soft chuckle felt more like a well-rehearsed mask than genuine amusement. “Ignore him, dear. Let’s sit at the table while we wait for the kids.” Her suggestion carried a hint of formality—like an actress on a stage, maintaining appearances.

You followed them, feeling like an outsider intruding on an unspoken drama. The dining table, set for six, had two chairs on either side, with Anakin taking one end and Padmé the other. A trivial detail, but one that made your brows knit. Twenty-five years of marriage, yet they chose to sit so far apart?

Anakin’s eyes locked onto you, his intense blue gaze both assessing and amused. A faint, almost secretive smile played at the corner of his lips. “So, tell us…” he began, his voice deep and inviting, yet sharp as a blade. “You made the first move, huh? ‘Cause, let’s face it, Luke doesn’t have an ounce of attitude.”

Padmé’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly, her eyes darting toward her husband, but she said nothing.

“What, dear?” Anakin continued, tone casual but with a teasing edge. “We both know our son didn’t even have the guts to say his order was wrong. It was always Leia who did it for him.” His eyes flicked back to you, glimmering with something between curiosity and mischief. “Let alone asking a pretty girl out…”

Heat flushed your cheeks. It was a throwaway comment, surely not meant seriously, yet the word “pretty” lingered, stirring a whirlwind in your chest.

Padmé’s spoon clinked softly against her plate, her gaze fixed downward. He shrugged, an air of indifference cloaking him. Yet, when he looked back at you, there was an intensity—a fleeting moment where his mask slipped. You couldn’t tell if it was defiance, regret, or something else entirely.

The charged tension between you and Anakin dissolved like mist with the arrival of Leia and her boyfriend. Padmé's face softened, a genuine smile breaking through her composed exterior as she hugged her daughter. For a moment, the warmth felt real, unforced.

Anakin’s voice, however, sliced through the atmosphere, sharp and bitter. “Ah, still you, Han. I was hoping Leia’s taste might have improved now that her brain is fully developed.” His tone dripped with sarcasm, and he made no effort to hide the disdain etched in every word.

Leia shot her father a glare, but Han’s smug grin didn’t falter. He extended a hand, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Always a pleasure, father-in-law.” The greeting oozed sarcasm, a barely veiled challenge.

Anakin’s eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line as he gripped Han’s hand, his knuckles white. The firm shake—a trick he’d perfected in the army—conveyed all the contempt he couldn’t say out loud. Han’s smirk faltered for a split second, his fingers flexing as he pulled his hand back. He masked the pain well, but you caught the flicker of discomfort in his eyes.

“Where’s the boy?” Han muttered, shaking out his hand subtly, scanning the room for Luke.

“Here. Sorry I’m late.” Luke’s voice broke the tension as he slid into the seat beside you. Relief flooded through your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how tightly wound you’d been until his familiar presence settled next to you.

“I almost thought I’d have to keep your girlfriend entertained while you were gone.” Anakin’s voice, soft yet edged, drew your gaze. His smile seemed innocent, but the intensity in his eyes betrayed something else—a quiet, knowing challenge.

Your heart stuttered. There was something about the way he looked at you, those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through your façade. Like he knew exactly how he unsettled you, and took a quiet pleasure in pushing just enough to watch your reaction. You glanced away, trying to steady your breathing.

Padmé’s polite voice broke the silence, a thin thread of calm against the undercurrent of tension. “Now that we’re all here, shall we have dinner served?”

You forced a smile, nodding, but your mind was elsewhere. You had expected dinner to be calm. A sweet mistake, you realized too late.

As the courses were served, the conversation flowed naturally, wine glasses refilling with a quiet, unnoticed regularity. Leia shared news about college and her efforts to establish a student league. Luke chimed in about his progress in his engineering internship, and Padmé’s pride shone through her warm, attentive smiles. She spoke about her projects in the Senate, her tone composed and confident—a stark contrast to the simmering tension in her eyes whenever Anakin refilled his glass.

Han joined in, detailing his venture with Lando Calrissian. You listened, suspicion tingling at the back of your mind. Something about his elaborate plan didn’t sit right; it sounded too slick, too legally ambiguous. You said nothing, sipping your wine, letting the conversation wash over you. Anakin noticed your quietness, his piercing gaze lingering on you more often than it should.

“Oh, please, let your girlfriend talk a little, Luke… indulge us with your voice, dear,” Anakin drawled, his voice already hoarse and slurred from the alcohol. His eyes, sharp even through the haze of whiskey, locked onto yours. “What’s your major again?”

You swallowed hard under his intense stare, the heat rising to your cheeks. A sip of wine helped steady your nerves. You answered softly at first, but as the alcohol worked its magic, your voice gained confidence, words flowing more freely.

“Tell me more, dear,” Anakin urged, leaning forward, chin resting on his hand, eyes fixed on you as though you were the only person in the room. It was intoxicating—the way his attention pinned you under its weight. You knew it was the drink talking, but it still sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you in his focus, each question drawing you in deeper. But when his questions drifted to teasing—like what you wore to work—Padmé intervened, a strained smile barely concealing her frustration. She ordered dessert, trying to regain control of the evening.

The fragile calm didn’t last. Anakin, more energized with each drink, pushed back from the table and grabbed a microphone from the small stage in the dining room.

Leia and Luke exchanged worried glances. Padmé’s eyes widened in alarm. “What is he doing?” you whispered to Luke, but he just shook his head, jaw clenched.

Anakin’s voice, thick with whiskey, echoed through the room. “Feel my heat taking you higher, burn with me, heaven’s on fire!” He sang with an intensity that made the room shrink around you. His voice, rough yet commanding, filled every corner of the space. Padmé rubbed her temples, clearly embarrassed, but Anakin didn’t care.

“Come on, Padmé, don’t be boring. You loved this one…” His eyes flashed with a wild, rebellious light. “Paint the sky with desire, angel, fly—heaven’s on fire.”

You watched, heart pounding, as he prowled the stage, the lyrics rolling off his tongue like a promise. It was wrong—so wrong. The family’s discomfort was palpable. Yet, before you knew it, your head was nodding gently to the rhythm, drawn in by the raw magnetism he exuded.

Anakin noticed. His gaze locked onto you, a slow, dangerous smile playing at his lips. “I got a fever raging in my heart, you make me shiver and shake.”

The world narrowed to the space between you. The intensity of his stare sent heat flooding through your veins, your breath catching in your throat. How could a man be so intoxicating?

“Baby, don’t stop, take it to the top, eat it like a piece of cake.”

Your cheeks burned. It felt like a private serenade, a message only for you, even with everyone watching. You knew it was reckless, dangerous even, but in that moment, you were caught in the undertow, unable to look away.

Padmé’s voice cut through the haze. “That’s enough, Anakin,” she snapped, the sharpness of her tone slicing through the air. Leia and Luke exchanged uneasy glances, tension radiating between them.

Anakin ignored her, eyes still locked on you. “I’m getting closer, baby, hear me breathe. You know the way to give me what I need.” The words felt like a confession, a challenge, an invitation.

Padmé stood abruptly. “I’m going to bed,” she announced, her voice brittle. She walked out without another word. Leia and Han followed, the air thick with unspoken conflict.

Luke touched your arm, guiding you toward the exit. You stumbled slightly, your pulse still racing, Anakin’s voice lingering like a phantom touch. As you left the room, you could still hear him humming, his presence a storm you knew you couldn’t outrun.