#apollo go his revenge

[hyacinthusmemorial]

is it only me, who goes like "Apollo must have flashback to hyacinth dying , when he saw Achilles and dead Patroclus,

Am I the only one who thinks of this? Okay

If that’s your personal head canon, go right ahead. Believe what you want to, nobody will stop you. 👍😉 I think its definitely a sweet sentiment, and a fun little brain worm.

But, I don’t think Apollo would react that way for for quite a few reasons. The first is mythology and the second is psychology and the third is genre.

The mythological reason is that Apollo is directly and purposefully responsible for Patroclus’s death, and he definitely hates Achilles. Like actually. The List of Top Ten People Apollo hates has Achilles twice on it. If he was in a room with Hitler, Stalin, and Achilles, and he had a gun with two bullets in it, he would shoot Achilles twice. He wants Achilles to suffer, and when Patroclus dies he tells Hector that he’s the third guy to kill him, but Apollo was the first to kill him. Because I think everyone in the Trojan war knows Apollo and Achilles hate each other. Apollo because Achilles murdered his sons (plural) and Achilles because he knows Apollo’s going to kill him. Reasons for their bitter rivalry can be found in this post here. There are more probably too.

As far as the psychological aspect, let’s assume Apollo’s psyche is like a human’s (which I do not think it totally is, but that’s another post). Trauma and Grief are two completely separate experiences. Grief is a normal human thing which we are given excellent coping skills to overcome by nature. People die. It’s a fact of life. But, HOW people die can be traumatic. For example, if your in a war and you watch your buddy die from a mine exploding and he doesn’t die right away, that’s traumatic. The grief is still separate from the trauma. Its closely aligned, but its separate. Trauma on the other hand is a situation that humans are not equipped to handle—its a situation outside the psychological norm. So our brain adapts normally to an abnormal situation.

I think the only true similarity between Patrochilles/Hyapollo deaths is that they were gay and one of them died before the other. If anything, Apollo was feeling a little vindictive when Patroclus died. He was the arm of fate that killed Patroclus, and Achilles absolutely deserved the death and destruction of everything he held dear in my POV. He was a serial assaulter and a war criminal.

Another reason why flashbacks just don’t work is because flashbacks are a trauma response. I think there’s a separate issue where one might live in the memories of a loved one’s passing, but that’s separate from a flashbacks. Flashbacks from PTSD are when the subconscious fear overwhelms the conscious. It requires a trigger, which can be anything and sinister—subtle and terrible. We know from the ancient authors that one of Apollo’s trigger is a westerly wind. @gingermintpepper had an excellent post providing several sources about Apollo’s approach to Hyacinthus and Asclepius’s deaths.

A flashback is a fear response in a situation that does not require this response based off of a trigger that puts the sub-conscious into a flight/fight mode and makes someone relive a previous traumatic experience. So for example Apollo might feel a western wind and relive Hyacinthus’s death or fear that Zephyrus is about to hurt him or the person he is with. This also depends on coping skills, and whether the person has developed grounding skills to put them back in the present.

I don’t believe that the situation with Patroclus/Achilles is triggering in the right way to elicit a flashback in Apollo. Patroclus and Achilles deaths are pretty different from Hyacinthus’s. So even if he had a grief response it would be minimal. At least from my perspective, one of my parents died when I was a child, and I had to take care of them while they were sick. I take care of a lot of sick people in my day to day, and I will say I rarely ever experience something that puts me back into the mode I was in when my parent died. I walk past the room my parent died in sometimes, cause I work in the hospital that they died in, and I am alright because I recognize the situation and I’m able to accept they died there. Alternatively, what does illicit a response in me is a certain smell my parent had when they were dying. I recognize it in patients sometimes, and I can have a visceral response to that, but again, I have learned how to appropriately deal with these sorts of things because “improve, adapt, overcome.”

Trauma is absolutely just a part of living in the world. Everyone has their own life story and troubles and triggers and struggles. But I don’t think Apollo/Hyacinthus connects to Patroclus/Achilles in any intense way.

Alternatively, I think perhaps something Apollo might have a more visceral response to is Hermes and Crocus, who are quite nearly the same dang story. That’s Apollo’s brother, and he loses someone the same way Apollo lost someone. That would open up gateways of intense suffering.

As far as genre goes, Apollo and Hyacinthus have a horror story parading as a romance story. Zephyrus is a sinister, invisible monster—he causes violence in a place where violence does not belong. On the other hand, Patroclus/Achilles is a war story—violence is expected. They both absolutely knew they were going to fie in that war, so their agony is expected from the beginning. Hyacinthus’s loss is unexpected and therefore, grievous. Not that losing your lover/cousin in a war is less horrific—it’s just prepared for, while losing your lover in a meadow while playing discus is…not.

I don’t mean that your personal view is wrong in anyway. Apollo is a divine character and anybody can have any view of him they would like. A lot of people view him as the antagonist of the Iliad and Achilles’ story, which to me, he just isn’t. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I love perspectives and opinions. I like sharing mine, so I love it when people share theirs.

[arielluva]

i replayed turnabout trump again for like. the 5th time i think??? god its such a good case

[shitpostingkats]

Man I've been playing through dual destinies and the visceral Apollo and Athena contrasts are making me go insane.

Your name is Apollo Justice. You are a lawyer. You're a pawn. You're a weapon. Your mentor is a jackass and your rival only sees you as a ghost of his brother. You're pushed around town to run chores you aren't being rewarded for. You are volunteered to deliver revenge on behalf of your jackass mentor, who refuses to tell you anything because it might spoil his game. When you falter, everyone tells you to learn to stand up on your own. Your mother finally learns of your existence, but she isn't ready, so everyone agrees not to tell you. After all, it's her feelings that are at stake. Apollo? It's never about Apollo.

Your name is Athena Cykes. You are a lawyer. You got here all by yourself, clawed your way to it all on your own. Your mentor set aside space in his life to take you under his wing, to offer advice and security. He takes over when you falter, and walks you through everything he's doing, so you can one day stand without assistance. You keep working, so so hard, because everyone in the courtroom is a familiar face. Your childhood friend. Your mentor. Your coworker who is slowly losing it, and you're not sure why, but you're pretty sure it's your fault. The man who gave up everything for you. Athena? Everything is about Athena.

Neither of you is okay.

[gotstabbedbyapen]

Why Apollo actually didn't have beef with Odysseus (spoiler for the Wisdom Saga)

Heads up, fellas: The rambling below contains spoiler for Epic the Wisdom Saga!

As we may know, in God Games, Athena needed to convince half of the Olympian council to approve Odysseus' release from Calypso's island. Apollo is the first god Athena encountered and the easiest for her to convince.

Now, why is that? Why does Apollo's beef with Odysseus seem way too easy to rebuke? He barely has any connection with the Sirens aside from the catchy songs, so why did he use them to "accuse" Odysseus (heavy on the quote-unquote because he barely even tried) and not the sacking of Troy, the murder of Astyanax, or the violation of the cows?

Here's my theory: Apollo has no real grudges against Odysseus. Apollo has every reason to be mad with the mentioned instances, but he is also the god of reason and rationality and knows there is no point in being angry.

First, as far as I know, Odysseus had not directly offended Apollo in the Trojan War or during his journey home. Apollo won't just harm anyone, he'd only take retribution against those who disrespected him greatly.

Second, the City of Troy had always been destined to fall so if it wasn't for Odysseus' wooden horse, someone else would have caused its demise. Apollo can't fault Odysseus for being part of the city's inevitable destiny.

Third, Apollo should be mad at Odysseus for killing an infant because he's the protector of the young, right? Well, in The Horse and The Infant, it was Zeus who told Odysseus that Astyanax was prophesied to take revenge on the Greek kings when he grew up, and he had to kill the infant to prevent that. Apollo is not one to go against his father's decree, so he wouldn't be mad at Odysseus for following suit.

(And if you look from a mythological standpoint, if Astyanax actually grew up to cause destruction to the Trojan War survivors, imagine how many sons and daughters of the Greek kings would suffer because the prophesied one was spared.)

Finally, why was he not mad with the cow thing??? Simple!

The cows were not even Apollo's, but Helios'. Apollo already gave his cows to Hermes in exchange for the lyre. So when Odysseus' crew killed the cows, they offended Helios, not Apollo. Of course, you could say Apollo should be mad on Helios' behalf, but that'll take us to point 2...

The crew killed the cows while Odysseus begged them to not. Odysseus didn't commit the crime or enable it, so he was in the clear. And lastly...

Odysseus' crew were already punished by death and Odysseus was left drifting in the sea and stuck on Calypso's island for seven years to the point of driven insane, so whatever "association" he could possibly have with the violation of the cows should be paid enough.

All that aside, Apollo has little to no beef with Odysseus and only makes up a flimsy "reason" to be mad out of obligation. He didn't care about bringing justice to Athena's favorite mortal, he probably only wanted to have fun in the family drama because hey, how often do you get to see your oldest sister asking for a favor from your King-god father?

[kamaluhkhan]

GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)

read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)

summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.

warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡

author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)

♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo

(i. he had a savior complex) 

if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you. 

no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.  

you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not. 

you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.

everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp. 

and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.

you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld. 

you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do. 

i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 

you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost — 

the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing. 

your eyelids fluttered open.

it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.

standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan. 

he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.

"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.

lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury. 

"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”

you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him. 

lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room. 

“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.” 

“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.” 

he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones. 

you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.

“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”

luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.

“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?” 

clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.

“what are you doing here?” he practically growled. 

“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”

at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with. 

it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess. 

needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend. 

but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you. 

“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia. 

even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more. 

“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”

“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.” 

clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.

“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned. 

“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.

“are you feeling okay?”

“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.

a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.

“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”

you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence. 

when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.

it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay. 

manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal. 

despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.

“luke.”

for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.

he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”

“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 

you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin. 

“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”

you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh. 

“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”

there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:

“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 

luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too. 

you gripped his wrist to steady him. 

“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours. 

“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”

“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”

 he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close. 

“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you. 

you refused to lose hope. 

no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.

“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.

“but —” 

“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?” 

as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action. 

chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.

luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.

you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.

after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.

you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.

you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.

“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth. 

you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.

“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier. 

no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it. 

you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him. 

when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering. 

“thanks, karma.”

you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin. 

“what happened? did clarisse —”

“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied. 

you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.

“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”

“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile. 

it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher. 

fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family. 

the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family. 

you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you. 

the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin. 

(ii. he had an ego)

according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.

she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.

“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 

annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast. 

"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive." 

"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate. 

"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight." 

you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.

“nice work, rodriguez.” 

"we're going out tonight?"

you pressed your knee to luke's under the table. 

"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate." 

so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed. 

there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol. 

"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!" 

everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks. 

the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.

for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.

there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends —  the people you loved — had beat the odds. 

so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental? 

beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out. 

under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones. 

whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire. 

“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.  

his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips. 

to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since. 

not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric. 

you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.

so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music. 

after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.

“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”

“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.

it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core. 

“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”

“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”

your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon. 

the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.

and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.

you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right? 

luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something. 

maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it. 

before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?

luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more. 

you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at. 

“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.

silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink. 

“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”

“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”

“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.

“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10  denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”

“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.” 

you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry. 

“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip. 

“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”

you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 

“well, we aren’t.” 

that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner. 

“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”

“cowards?” you suggested.

silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”

neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.

suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier. 

“i am not a coward.” 

without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you. 

part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat. 

“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea. 

“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?” 

someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger. 

“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.

“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 

you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.

the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”

“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.

the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.

“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.

"i don't owe you anything." 

"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.

you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.

“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”

“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”

his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —

you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.

“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady. 

it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender. 

“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”

you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix. 

“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”

your fingers tightened into a fist.

“that is not —”

“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”

“luke, what are you —”

“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.” 

“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted. 

you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process. 

you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you. 

he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends. 

“see what i mean?”

“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”

oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….

“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”

rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 

“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.” 

luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.

"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."

rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.

you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire. 

“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk. 

that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.

“what?” 

“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”

you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”

“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”

he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night. 

“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”

“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.” 

luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe. 

“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.” 

you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.

"what about the redhead?"

luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."

"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too." 

"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?" 

luke turned towards the exit.

"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?" 

luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."

his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker. 

it made you want to kiss him all over again.

(iii. he lied without flinching)

you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 

he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.

when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura. 

ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin. 

you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother. 

“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”

“actually, we were just —”

“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning. 

“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”

luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 

“i already said no. end of discussion.”

“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.

the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.

“okay, seriously. what’s —”

“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed. 

once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly. 

“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.

“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”

you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.

“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained. 

“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”

you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend. 

sitting down next to him, you sighed.

“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?” 

clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style. 

you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:

luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”

“what?”

he leaned in close, voice low.

“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”

“no. no. she wouldn’t —”

“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”

“we all are,” you pointed out.

“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”

you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it. 

“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”

luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 

“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?” 

you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.

at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.

he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?

you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.

(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)

 it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.

it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend. 

luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic. 

you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through. 

no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same. 

that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous. 

“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”

you felt him chuckle against your skin.

“since when do you care about that?” 

“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin." 

"that’s only if we get caught." 

luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.

it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much. 

zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.

"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.

you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.

it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming.  the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.

luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.

he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your cum.

"yes, sweetheart?"

“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned. 

once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.

“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you. 

“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away. 

you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”

“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.

you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. you had a favorite, too — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.

if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it. 

“eyes up here, beautiful.” 

when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.

“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”

you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.

“yes,” you finally answered.  "please."

luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin. 

after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard,  to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.

luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 

there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.

you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit. 

“do you see my shirt there?”

luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:

“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”

you placed your hands on his cheeks. 

“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.

“luke, baby, look at me.”

when he finally did, your heart ached. 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.

but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you. 

“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”

luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine. 

 “if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”

luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you. 

“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”

“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke. 

thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second. 

you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.

“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”

“sparring?” 

“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”

“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”

“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”

you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted. 

“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.

“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”

as if either of you could forget marathoning entire seasons of buffy the vampire slayer on dvds rented from the nearest video store. you'd watch episode after episode with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.

you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.

zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.

luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.

luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.

“easy there, angel,” you referenced, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck. 

you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.

“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen. "how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

“you won’t.” 

“i'm the lucky one." a shadow passed over luke's face, and you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips. “i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.

at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing. 

for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.

you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.

the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?

he was the one you were irrevocably in love with. 

except your life wasn't some neatly written, scripted coming-of-age story about fictional vampires and slayers. 

it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late. 

(v. he made you look so naive)  

there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.

yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous. 

luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die. 

you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.

dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.

“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, moreso than usual. 

you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left. 

“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.

you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly. 

a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath. 

“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”  

“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”

your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.

you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.

because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?

luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.

you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.

vi. he was a vice you could never shake

calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)

the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums. 

it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.

you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp. 

but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup. 

sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 

you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with. 

you missed —

no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore. 

you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds. 

before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse. 

and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”

ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday. 

i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.

think of the devil, and he shall appear.

it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.  

you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 

i can’t stand to hear your name

you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you. 

it was just that — a bad feeling, right?

 you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. 

oh baby, you really blew it.

the song ended, and your blood ran cold.

it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed. 

as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.

those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded. 

so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light. 

“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”

you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends. 

as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor. 

“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”

“because i’m alone.”

“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”  

after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about. 

luke tried again. 

“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.” 

you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him. 

“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.

“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”

your eyes grazed luke carefully.

he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 

you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip. 

“no. you don’t get to just —”

the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.

“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?” 

“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”

his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness. 

she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.

“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded. 

“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”

stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing. 

 “great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”

you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise. 

“i know….i fucked up, karma.”

you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.

“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”

“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”

“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”

luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 

“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension. 

you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away. 

“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”

“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”

kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”

baby. you could have laughed. 

“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.

kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 

“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”

“that’s not my home.”

out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time. 

you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes. 

luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.

you stepped in front of luke. 

“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”

kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws. 

“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards. 

you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again. 

again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break. 

it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of. 

you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife. 

you were definitely out of practice. 

“kelli!” 

you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.

“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”

luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”

luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.

you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other. 

luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.

“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.

“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.” 

to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.

“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”

“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.

the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled. 

“okay, we need to get you —”

“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced. 

the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.

“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”

you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.

“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”

“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”

“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”

looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped. 

bad habits were always the hardest to break.

“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”

luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”

you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home. 

(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)

your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.

“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”

you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid  kit.

luke knelt down in front of you. 

“can i take your shirt off?” 

you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar. 

there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.

at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too. 

what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.

and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.

“wait. what happened?”

“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.

“luke.”

“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”

kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember. 

wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him. 

“can i take this off?”

luke nodded. 

the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.

like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.

“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.

our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that. 

“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”

you couldn’t help but add that last part. 

“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle. 

you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.

it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream. 

luke just had to make everything so complicated.

“they’re fine, all things considered.”

you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 

he was quiet for a moment.

“you seem to be doing alright, though?”

you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head. 

"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."

"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking. 

"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze." 

"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat." 

you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.

the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee. 

you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.

luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.

"yeah?"

"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.

"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."

"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here." 

you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything. 

you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions. 

once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.

"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.

"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”

you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”

luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 

“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….” 

his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.

“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”

“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”

something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:

“i’ll do it.” 

before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.

neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him. 

the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.

once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.

“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.

“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.

you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.

the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.

you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.

you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed. 

neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet…. 

part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end. 

luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.

what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?

leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?

now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —

you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.

luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.

“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.” 

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along. 

“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”

“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”

it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest. 

how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on. 

just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.

another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —

luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.

“no kissing,” he warned. 

“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”

luke swallowed thickly.

you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.

it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice. 

“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”

“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”

luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 

he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.

luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him. 

“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.

you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.

“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone. 

luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:

“you’re such a —”

you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress. 

“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.

you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.   

in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. 

“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed. 

slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too. 

sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.  

you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some. 

“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out. 

what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out. 

there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your skin encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.

when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines. 

“fuck it. please — kiss me.”

you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.

luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. 

“please,” luke pleaded once more.

his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached. 

you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.

yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.

you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.

“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again.  “i missed you so fucking much.” 

luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same. 

it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.

you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:

“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”

you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”

“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest. 

you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.

“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.

you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.

“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”

maybe that was true.

in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge, regardless of who your mother is. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice. 

deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?

“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago. 

"i guess not."

you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.

"how's your shoulder?" 

"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you." 

those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.

you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle. 

matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other. 

"i love you too.”

at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.

maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.

luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.

you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.

[mytho-maniac-108]

I mean that's pretty much myth canon for Artemis at least, given that she emerges from the womb, then drags out her brother and immediately decides never to stay in one place/get married/be bound in any way. And she keeps true to that, running wild and free forever. AND she's usually the one to rescue Ares from his captivity, which you can read as gratitude but also as her sympathizing with him.

What if you made Apollo and Artemis be claustrophobic after the months they spent conscious and in The Womb™️…

[perrigoaway]

Part 2 to a comic I made a little over a month ago! I was going to make it for white day, but I was a bit late TT see the first part here

.

more thoughts beneath the cut, as always!

Hi! so as I said before, im a little late for when I wanted to post this. I realized it was white day a few days ago and thought it would be fun to make a little comic with Apollo's attempt at revenge! I started it ON white day, then I realized there was NO way I was getting it out then whoops! Here it is now >:)

I worked on this and it was actually driving me nuts, I continuously thought "does this comic even make sense at this point?" hopefully it does TT

I do want to say though, I went into this thinking that no matter how I made things, I wanted it to MOSTLY backfire on Apollo TT SORRY APOLLO LOVE YOU TT I just think he would have really odd ideas on how to get back at someone. Like what kind of person steals the shirts out of your closet for revenge? Him, I guess. Or me since I was the one who thought up the idea LMAO. ALSO I think that Klapollo as a ship in general is interesting because, no matter how someone writes them, inherently, they're BOTH just losers. Yet, they both want to be the coolest person ever and sometimes (most of the time) it doesn't work out how they want, especially with Apollo. He wants to be cool so bad but says stuff like "um, hiya..!" He's my favorite little guy, just like me fr

AND shout out to my sisters for helping me to block this out TT my younger sister practically did ALL the work for the second panel, she even drew it out for me initially, so thanks gug <3 @abandonedart

I'm only a little sorry for yapping this time >:)

[madbard]

While listening to Epic, I noticed an interesting pattern with how antagonists are portrayed, and how Odysseus’ interactions with them are coded.

In Epic, the monsters Odysseus faces are rarely fighting for their own sake. Polyphemus attacks Odysseus’ crew to avenge his sheep, and Poseidon destroys his ships as revenge for his son’s suffering. Similarly, Circe only threatens Odysseus to protect her nymphs. Odysseus does not kill any of these enemies, and while he is occasionally criticized for letting them go free, the overall implication is that he did the right thing by sparing them.

Then we hit the Thunder Saga, and Odysseus begins his arc as a ‘monster’ by killing the sirens. His actions here are brutal, and whether or not they are justified is, I think, up to the listener. However, it’s significant that the sirens are the first foes Odysseus faces on his journey who aren’t either defending or avenging what they love. They attack unprovoked, and while Odysseus’ method of execution is gory, he is never punished for it by other characters within the narrative. Apollo is the only one to protest, and even he is swayed easily when Athena says (among other things) that the sirens were “trying to do him worse.” The sirens attacked first, and while Odysseus’ response was ‘monstrous,’ his crew obeyed his commands and he was not challenged or ostracized for giving said commands. He is only treated as a monster when he yields to Scylla, who also attacked without provocation.

Thus, in Epic, the monsters fighting to protect or avenge their loved ones are protected by the very story - killing them may be more convenient, but it isn’t the answer. However, the monsters who attack without provocation, for their own amusement or satisfaction, do not receive such respect. Killing them is acceptable, and cooperating with them is monstrous.

By this logic, Odysseus is justified in his actions, however atrocious. He attacks to protect his family, and therefore deserves mercy.

The suitors, on the other hand…

[prinzrupprecht]

When they hurt your feelings

Featuring: Beelzebub, Cu Chulainn, Apollo, Okita ( part 1 )

Ight lads we onto a new series. Dunno why Okita feels out of place in this line up. First time doing Beel and Cu. If you guys want a specific character in part 2 you’ll have to request it or else imma just rng it.

Part 2 and Part 3

No warnings.

Beelzebub

You knew of the risks of trying to get close to the Lord of the Flies. You may have been pestering him around too lately or tried to get him to soften up around you.

All your efforts were for nothing but you still tried. He tells you to leave him alone most of the time while he studies in his own research room. You continued to pout as your advances were rejected yet again.

Beelzebub never tried to get to know you or why you even wanted to befriend him. Ever since Lilith and his three friends died because of him, he doesn’t want the same to happen to anyone else. Other gods feared him and he liked to live in solitude.

You still tried to get close to him. It was pissing him off and so he snapped without thinking one day. He called you the worst things a person shouldn’t ever hear. Bottom-feeder gods were better than you. You were more annoying than a fly buzzing in his ear. If it wasn’t for his desire to die so badly, he’d rather your piercing voice kill him instead.

You probably were more hurt than ever and couldn’t even bring yourself to leave your house for days. You were so annoying that he would rather die than be near you? No, he always wanted to die and you tried to change that.

Instead, you had tried to move on. Maybe it was for the better? Even no matter how hard you tried to be friendly to him, it was no use and the weeks that have gone by without passing a word to him. He probably doesn’t even care enough to look in your direction.

You found your way to the garden of Eve despite the weird creatures that lurk around the forbidden tree. You just wanted to break free from the reality you were in for a moment— “why are you here?” His voice sounded like venom. You couldn’t even move, yet he was here.

“Fine then I’ll leave, sorry for even coming here.” You pouted and turned your head to see him giving you an amused look. You were confused, didn’t he want you not to be around him?

“Actually, I liked it better when you were annoying. It fits you more,” he huffed. He wanted you to pester him around? You didn’t want to feel that heartache again that he gave you.

“Huh?! If you’re here to insult me again then go away!” You huffed pointing your finger at him.

He grabbed your arm pulling you to him with a smirk plastering his face. “No. I actually would rather risk killing you than you avoid me again.” He pushed you against the tree with one hand close to your head. Your mind was running wild with thoughts. Kill you?

“Fine then, only if you let me get to know the real you instead of pushing me away!” You glared back at him which he stepped forward towards you. He was surprised Satan hasn’t tried to kill you. His heart was growing more fonder of you by the day and it killed him more when you stopped pestering him around because of his cruel behaviour towards you.

At last he would have you here and now.

Cu Chulainn

Knowing Cu was probably a nightmare. He was rude and complained about the gods a lot. What were you even? A human brought to Valhalla and met Cu Chulainn along the way. You weren’t exactly the closest to him but you grew jealous of how much he paid attention to his dog more than you sometimes. However, he had a different side to him whenever he was with his dog Geis.

You sometimes wish you were the dog but you concealed your feelings for him knowing what had happened to other women who tried to confess to him. Morrigan… you were there when she demanded him to marry her and the two fought. Morrigan tried to kill you out of revenge for Cu rejecting her. Yet, something snapped in him and somehow he defeated her within seconds.

Your mind was brought back to you watching Cu with his dog. He even allowed you to pet his dog where as nobody else was allowed to. He trusted you enough to pet him. “He’s not bad when he gets to know someone first.” Cu smiled genuinely watching Geis brush against your side.

“He’s cute! Is he fine with cats?” You looked at Cu who gave you even more of an annoyed look. Cats? What?

“I don’t know?” He was having doubts about where this was going.

“Can he meet my cats?” You clasped your hands together. His dog around a bunch of felines?!

“Hell no, Geis doesn’t need to be around a bunch of annoying cats. Heck, even I don’t want them around me.” Cu turned his head but you didn’t say anything. You accepted Cu’s dog but he wouldn’t even trust a few cats? You had thought because he liked animals, maybe he wouldn’t mind the stray cats you take care of.

“It’s fine! Sorry, I asked. I uh– I have to go back home now anyway!” You didn’t even give him a chance to say anything before leaving.

Cu was rude most days, and you put up with him a lot. You watched him train and talked nonstop in his ear. Even when he was busy, he always found time to check up on you. You didn’t want to admit to him about your feelings for him incase he’d reject you.

So why were you hurt now? Cu would probably kill your cats anyway so it’s better that he wasn’t around them. He can’t even accept one part of you?

Several days had passed without hearing anything from Cu. You were fairly certain this must’ve been the longest you haven’t heard from him. You were too sad to even leave the house, why were men so stubborn? Did he expect you to chase him? You refused to do that as you were stronger than that.

You almost didn’t hear the front door open and you immediately jumped thinking someone entered your home. “Woah, relax.” Cu showed himself from around the corner. He looked more annoyed than you.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice croaked which gave away how upset you were with him. You weren’t only upset about what he thought of your cats but his rude attitude also puts you down at times.

“Heh? You didn’t come by for a few days, so I wanted to see if you’re alive. And Geis too was worried,” he called his dog over who nearly tackled you to the ground and was licking you all over. You were happy but at the same time, this changes nothing.

“Well, I’m alive so you can leave.” You gave him a murderous stare indicating you were mad at him. Cu was irritated with you. Now you’re matching his mood? He was stubborn but he never thought you’d be the same.

“Nah, bring your felines out.” Cu brought an arm up to his forehead to hint at the imaginary headache you were causing him. Would you stop being mad at him if he petted one of your cats?

You perked your head up at him, “not if you’re forcing yourself to meet them.” You pouted.

“I’m asking to,“ he didn’t want to admit that it was indeed to make you stop being mad at him. He missed you.

“Fine, but could you be more nicer to me from now on?” You stood up and gave him a sly smile.

“Whatever, Princess.”

Apollo

Being Apollo’s wife came with both pros and cons. He would either suffocate you with his love and continuously talk nonstop to you about his passion for beauty or he would disappear for days. The disappearing part was recent. He used to stay in the Olympus palace with you most times. This was making you worry whether he was going back to his old ways.

Was he seeing someone new? Was he bored of you now? The unsettling feeling wouldn’t go away. Maybe you shouldn’t wait for him anymore.

“My lady, it’s urgent.” One of the maids opened into your shared room. You looked at her to continue.

“Ah, my apologies. Apollo is severely injured and is asking for you.” Severely?! What? You weren’t even mad anymore. Your worries were filled with intrusive thoughts of him being in a critical condition that may be fatal. You could also be worrying too much.

You rushed out of the room as you heard of the news. Why was he severely hurt? You were going to scold him but as soon as you reached the infirmary where there were many injured Olympus guards, deities and you found Apollo in his own room.

“Agh, what happened?!” You busted open the door and you could see that he was wrapped in bandages. His force went from wide shock to giving you a small smile.

“It’s nothing too major darling—"

“Nothing too major? You’re covered from the chest down in bandages?! I’m hurt, yes. You would go off and disappear for days! I know you’re not telling me things.” You lowered your head and sat next to his bedside.

“I’m sorry for being in such a disgusting unsightly position right now.” He changed the topic back to his beauty which even hurt you even more. Did he only care about his looks?

“Can you take this seriously for once? Agh, maybe I should leave.” You stood up but Apollo sighed and needed to explain why he was gone for days at a time. However, you spoke up again turning to face him.

“I thought you were seeing someone else! And then I hear this, I— I don’t even know.” You covered your mouth with one hand. Apollo was offended you lacked faith in him. In all honestly, it shocked him. However, it was his fault for not telling you the Titan issue so you wouldn’t worry. Yet, he knew he messed up.

“The Titans broke into heaven and Zeus needed all of us.” He grabbed your hands to stop your shaking. You were immensely scared and your worries wouldn’t stop.

Hey, hey, everything is fine.” Apollo pushed some of your hair back behind your ear. You were starting to feel a bit more at ease. You lowered your head on his chest without trying to hurt him. His arms wrapped around your waist. You were calming down and hoping he would recover from this.

Even the titans may return later but you wanted him to be more truthful. “I’m sorry, I overreacted and thought you would hurt me…” you were feeling bad but Apollo still placed one of his hands to his forehead.

“Hmm, no I have no reason to commit infidelity as you’re the only beautiful woman I need to comfort me.” He was so obsessed with beauty even to the point that only you were the most beautiful gem in his eyes.

Okita

Every time you tried to practice your swings and techniques alone, Okita would always make his comments about how you were almost as bad as Hijikata as a joke. You envy him for being a prodigy and that he was right. Souji was the best swordsman in Kondo’s Shieikan training hall. Nothing hurts more than hearing his negative thoughts about your swordplay.

Hijikata was unbothered by the comments hurled at him for being the worst swordsman, and for some reason, you didn’t want to show how bothered you were. Okita-san liked to play around with them and that was what men did. It was a weakness to show your emotional side. You tried to keep your distance from the demon child. For many years you had known Souji, he was incredibly kind to you but that was up until recently when you wanted to learn how to use a sword.

You asked Saitou and Nagakura to help you, but they still won against you every single time. Yet, they never gave you a ton of criticism like how Souji had. They even said you had the potential to be as good as them. It was only Souji who said even if you trained for a hundred years, you wouldn’t ever be as good as him. Maybe he was right, but you weren’t trying to be as good as him. You wondered what changed? Why was he like this towards you?

Even when Kondo took him in, you were just a kid at the time who was also raised by Kondo’s adoptive father and lived at the Shieikan dojo. You even helped Kondo-san take care of Souji and he became incredibly attached and protective of you two. You had wondered if he had thought of you more than someone who just took care of him when he had no one. His sister abandoned him and you reassured him he wasn’t a monster as others saw him as.

When you saw him talking to Saitou and smiling, you felt a bit sad. Why did he act differently around them compared to you? You missed his nice and caring side. You were bothered but you pushed yourself to move on. As you walked away you saw Kondo in another room. “Everything okay?” he had asked which your mind stopped for a moment. You nodded but said nothing.

“You’ve been acting strange these past few days,” he patted you to sit next to him and you couldn’t help but break down your emotions. You couldn’t hold them in any longer. You told Kondo that it was becoming unbearable to be around Souji.

“I don’t think he means it like that, I think he is worried that you’ll get hurt." Kondo took another sip of his tea. You wondered what he meant by that. Get hurt? After some time talking to the boss of the dojo, you started to understand where Souji was coming from. He never spoke to Kondo about his concerns either since men tend to not show their emotions or like to express themselves.

You decided the comments hurt too much and went back to cleaning the dojo and after them. Your friendship felt worse with Souji now. You decided that whatever you thought there was with him before was completely gone now. You saw Yamanami and Saitou practicing inside and they wanted to help you train but you politely declined.

You saw Souji outside sitting at the cherry blossom tree and that was when you walked over to him to confront him with the way he behaved towards you. “You going to explain yourself?” You were standing in front of him and he didn’t look up at you nor spoke for a moment.

“Huh? What?” He gave you an innocent reaction and it irritated you. It was like a sting to your heart and you were just bothering him at this point.

“Seriously? You’re going to play dumb? Never mind, this was a mistake.” You were about to walk away and go back to cleaning but Souji grabbed your sleeved arm so you wouldn’t leave him. Ever since you helped Kondo take care of him, he was afraid you would leave him one day.

“I’m sorry.” He still wouldn’t let go of your arm.

“Huh?” You sat next to him.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you.” His lips curled up into a smile. His knees were still up to his chest while you knew he meant it.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to practice swordplay anymore with Saitou or Nagakura-san.” You shrugged.

“Why haven't you asked me?”

“I— I don’t know. I don’t want to bother you with trivial things…” This made you fidget with your long sleeves.

“But you’re fine with bothering Hajime-san?” You understood where he was coming from. He was annoyed you never asked him for help and relied on others. Jealous? You didn’t want to make a joke about him being jealous. It was obvious and it makes sense that he wanted to be the one to train you and even protect you.

“So you would help train me without being a prick this time?” You couldn’t help but blush a bit. He looked at you and noticed how flustered you looked.

He nodded, “ya I can do that.” He smiled at you and leaned his body against yours like old times. After all, maybe your friendship could be something else with him.

Note: I really want to write a ton of bs one shots with Cu all of a sudden. Anyway, that’s all for now!

[apricot-blossomss]

can you do one with Apollo where he offends someone or something and they strike down the mortal reader? real angsty you know

☛ apollo offends hera who takes revenge by killing mortal!reader

☛ extreme angst, major character death, violence, grief, guilt

The room was warm with the lingering heat, droplets of sweat tickled your back and were wiped away by the gentle hand of your lover. You were lying on your stomach, head resting on a pillow, and admiring the sight before you; your bare god looking down on you lovingly, your fresh marks adorned his neck and shoulders, his fingers gently tracing the testimonies of love he had left on your body.

He was propped up on one hand, so that you could admire him fully. Your hand, still a little shaky from the bliss, found his golden locks, damp and sticking to the back of his neck. Under your touch, he closed his eyes and smiled, leaning into your hand that guided his head down to your pillow. He settled next to you, a loose arm around your waist and your eyes locked. Their expression was no longer heated, no, his eyes were warm honey. Soft, golden, overflowing with adoration and love.

"I love you," you whispered. It had slipped out just a few minutes before, you had never said it before. But now it was out and you didn't wish to ever take it back.

His soft hand came to your neck as his expression was overrun with emotion. A shuddering breath left his lips and you saw a sort of desperation in his eyes. You knew him too well. "You don't have to say it back," you whispered and pressed a soft peck onto the tip of his nose.

"But I do," he breathed, running his thumb over your cheek with a care as if he was handling fragile glass. "I do so much. More than you-" he tapped your forehead tenderly, "could ever comprehend. More than I should."

"Because I'm mortal?" you asked, not breaking eye contact. "Because I will get old and die?" You saw in his expression that he was pondering something and inched even closer so that your noses almost touched. "You can tell me, Apollo. What's wrong?"

Another shudder of a breath. His arms tightened around you and his expression was pained. "I want you to grow old. And be with you all the way."

"Well, good that we aren't being seen in public anyways then, can you imagine the stares?" you giggled and he could bring himself to laugh a little. Tenderly, you brushed the damp locks out of his face. "Are you worried about me, Apollo?"

"Many of my lovers died." It broke out of him like a confession he had been holding in for a while, pushed down, but now it was out and he looked upon you with such vulnerability. "I cannot stand the thought that it might happen to you. It's the reason I'm keeping you my secret. Every time I close my eyes and you are not around, I am plagued my visions, dreams, images..."

A drop of sweat made its way down the side of his face- or was it a tear? You cradled his face in your hands and Apollo pulled you even closer, until you could feel every inch of each other. Somehow, it was even more intimate than the sex. "Nothing's gonna happen to me, Apollo," you said, wishing you could just erase all that worry from his mind. "Don't worry, do you think you can get rid of me that easily?"

He didn't answer, so you kissed him, deeply, with all the love you had for him. And still it was no match for the intensity with which he kissed you back. When you parted, you were all out of breath, tracing little patterns on his skin. "I trust you, Apollo," you whispered as you painted your love on him with invisible brushes. "More than anyone."

"I love you," was all he answered, body's intertwined so tightly you didn't know whose legs were who's anymore. "I'll never let you go."

And he couldn't. He couldn't let you go. He couldn't be too late. This couldn't be happening. Why, oh why, had his pride compelled him to inflict that plague onto Carthage, Hera's holy city? He had to get to you before she did. How stupid of him to think he had taken all the proper precautions to hide you, keep you a secret. The look on Hera's face when she had entered his palace, said your name and that you would pay for his crime, it haunted him. It was all he could see as he raced towards the mortal realm, in search of you, you, you.

The way he rushed past cities, realms to get to you, now, fast, before she did, all he could do was think please. Please. The wind rushed in his ears, his heart drumming up a storm, fueled by his desperate panic. He couldn't allow himself to think, he just had to find you, get you to safety, never let you out of his eyesight again-

Suddenly, he spottet you, and his heart stopped as abruptly as he did. For a split second, the skies opened and deceiving, stupid hope filled his chest. For just a second, it was all well, because there you were, in your springtime dress on your walk. Unsuspecting, beautiful you. It was a scene right out of a dream, the way you shielded your eyes from the sun, looking in his direction, as if a magic bond had pulled you towards him. Your eyes widened when they locked with his, and you smiled.

The dream was ripped apart.

Even with all his godly senses, it came too fast for him to see. One second, you stood, the next, you collapsed on the ground, struck by the invisible, deadly hand of the highest of goddesses.

Too late. In the back of his mind he knew he was too late, but that didn't stop him from inspecting the wound the moment his feet met the ground. A gown of blood was already draped around you, your former green dress now the color of scarlet. Shaking fingers pressed against the wound, but the blood kept spilling. Too much blood. And it mixed with the tears Apollo hadn't even realized were falling from his eyes.

His hands were frantic in their attempts, but they couldn't save you. You were slipping, and he knew it. A panicked sob left his lips, more tears were wetting his cheeks when he cradled your face in his hands. Your eyes were wide, full of fear, and your breaths were but strangled cries for help. A lung, he thought in the back of his mind, maybe both. And he couldn't fix you.

Admits it all, he wanted to say sorry, but no word left his lips as he saw your helpless eyes, eyes that were usually full of love, reassurance, warmth and tenderness. What had he done?

"'pollo" you managed to chocke out, along with a violent cough that had you spitting blood. The metallic taste filled your mouth. You wanted to move, but you couldn't. That was when you realized- you didn't feel your body anymore. But if you didn't feel your body anymore, why was there so much pain? You barely registered how Apollo lifted you up into his arms. "Don't talk, shh.."

"'s important," you slurred and he brushed your hair out of your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out but another bloody cough. Your eyes widened as his heart stopped and you both came to the same realization: you were chocking on your own blood. Another coughing fit. "'Apollo, 'need to tell you-," you gasped and buried your fingers in his tunic so hard it hurt. They were too cold. And he couldn't move. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to move, do something, but he was unable to do anything but hold you in his arms as you died.

"'s not your f-" but you didn't get to finish your sentence. Blood painted your lips red. One second, your eyes were panicked, the next, they were empty, devoid of life. Your grip on his tunic loosened and he managed to break free from his paralysis to grab your hand and desperately press it to the spot you had been holding onto, as if that would return the life to your limp body. But you were gone. And all he could do was cradle your lifeless body in his arms and bury his head next to your still heart.

"No" he whispered, "no, no, no!" Another sob broke out of his trembling lips and tears wet your collarbone. Where he once had put his lips in adoration, you were now covered in your own blood. Your beautiful body, destroyed, and you, gone, in the blink of an eye. Because of him. He breathed in as terror washed over him. To look down upon the destruction he had caused, he raised his head from your fleeting warmth. The last warmth he would find in you. He would never be able to hold you again. And it was his doing.

Next was the rage. He yelled for Hera to come down from her divine realm, to face him, he would destroy her, he would avenge you. But ultimately, there was no sign of the goddess, and he had to see that it wouldn't bring you back.

So he screamed for his uncle, to have mercy, to give you back to him. Down in Hades, the god heard his nephews cries for help, but he couldn't make a difference. You were a mere mortal. He should have known better. There was no answer from Hades.

So, he was left there. By now, his body was drenched with your blood as well, covering his tunic, his lips from when he had tried to kiss you back to life, and his hands. That was right. It was his hands that were bloody, sullied with the guilt. Again. This should have never happened to you. If he had had mercy, if he had been strong enough to leave you alone, you wouldn't be here. Destroyed by a goddess whose anger was directed at him. He was your murderer.

It took a time until he rose. Still, you were cradled in his arms, your head supported against his chest and your eyes closed. Once he had cleaned you up, one could almost think you were sleeping peacefully, if there weren't the memories of your panic in your last moments. Those widened eyes had burned themselves into his soul forever, an eternal scar.

Sources differ to what happened to you after this. Some say that your remains were transformed into a beautiful tree by the god, one that could never be brought down by an ax. In death, your love remained just as strong as in life. But the god was heartbroken. And he remained so for centuries to come.

[sunlightmurdock]

Operation Apollo | 3.0 | Jake Seresin x Reader

previous chapter | epilogue | masterlist

Synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

Warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, manipulation, sucky parents, grief and manipulation, lying, distressing themes throughout but especially towards the end of the chapter. Graphic violence, dangerous situations, inaccurate injuries, major character death revenge, wc: 3.8k

There’s no rush to open your eyes. The ache and throb, and painful dryness of your lips brings you no respite from the way things had been before you had fallen asleep. Blacked out. Whatever you want to call it— it hadn’t helped. 

Your nose wrinkles at something offensive. Sterile and sharp smelling. Wrinkling it comes with a crunch, and sharp pain. There’s a dry feeling in your nostrils where old blood still sits. 

The smell is chemical, antiseptic. It’s so strong smelling through all of that blood and pain that it forces your eyes open. That’s worse. That hurts more. Fluorescents above you. You’re left with no choice but to squeeze them shut again— and the sudden realization that you’re not where you were before, at all.

There’s no hard, painful metal chair holding your weight. The burden of being held now falls to something much softer, so soft that it feels like you’re sinking into it like sand. It doesn’t hurt much less. 

Your legs hurt, a prickling static feeling. Your ass hurts from however long you were sitting there like that. Your back hurts, a numb and stiff feeling. You attempt to turn your head and your neck reminds you suddenly not to overlook it— a gasp tears from your mouth and makes your lungs burn almost as much as your bruised throat.

Two voices say your name at once. A chair scrapes across the ground, two sets of shoes hit the floor. People are coming. The gasp, despite your burning throat’s protests, becomes a choked whimper. 

“Don’t— Don’t touch her,” Allen. You’re dreaming again, just like you had been when you heard Jake’s voice. “Maybe we should get the doctor.” 

You try once again. The bright, blinding white stuns your sore, unadjusted eyes. You squint through it, determined as ever. Allen’s weathered face steadies and becomes more clear. His mouth hangs open, watching your bruised face start to move with recognition.

“Stay still, sweetheart, don’t move.” He’s speaking to you. He lifts his hand and reaches. His fingers extend towards you and your skin comes alive, buzzing with electricity like you’re being shocked as you tear back from his extended palm.

He winces as you cough out a choked cry, doubling over in pain from the sudden movement. 

“Doctor Owens?— Doctor Owens!” Your mother. Her voice is further away, growing in urgency. She’s barely recovered herself. She shouldn’t have come.

The monitor beside your bed beeps wildly as your heart rate kicks into another spike, and footfall echoes in the hall as people rush for your room. So many shoes hitting the ground at once that you can’t place how many of them there could possibly be.

“Don’t.” It comes out choked and horse, but loud. “Don’t touch me. Allen. Don’t— I don’t want—“

“Calm down, it’s alright,” He tries, he really tries. The footfall grows closer and you thrash as Allen’s fingers graze the curve of your shoulder. You’re just hurting yourself more. “Stop. Try to stay still, alright? — You’re — Stop. Stop!”

There’s nothing peaceful about the way you’re sent back to sleep, thrashing and crying and screaming as your IV is adjusted and filled. With everything that you’ve been through, they had warned your loved ones that recovery was going to be far from linear.

Over the course of the next two days, you wake three more times and are put back to sleep in a similar fashion. With your stitches and recovering internal injuries, they need you to be still. For now, every time you have opened your eyes has been another fight that your body just isn’t ready to take.

The fourth time comes easier than the rest. Your broken nose has started to heal by now. Under the hospital gown, your ribs are black and blue. Your lungs have stopped making that rattling sound when you inhale deeply now. Still, everything hurts.

The fluorescent lights are off. The curtains are open, the television is on. You blink heavily, your chest aches as you breathe in. 

Allen looks up at the soft rattle of your first breath in. His brows furrowed slightly, green eyes widening as he watches your eyelids blink heavily. 

“Hey…” He whispers cautiously, like he’s afraid to spook you. Your gaze settles on him, the fuzziness of the picture dissipating with each heavy blink. His face is sullen, tired. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s just me. It’s just us, you’re okay.”

Just us. The idea is more comforting than anything you’ve heard in a long time. It’s not really just the two of you, but Allen keeps that to himself. You don’t need to know the amount of security posted around this building.

You want to answer him, but your throat is dry and hoarse when you try to speak. Allen sits forwards, grabbing the underside of the chair with his good hand and pulling it closer.

“It’s alright.” His voice voice croaks. It’s not alright, but you will be. He hopes you’ll understand, when it’s time for you to learn how it all went down. 

Stubble coats his jaw and his hair is longer than he usually ever lets it grow, salt and pepper all the way through. Your fingers twitch and your arm aches as you force it slowly upward, reaching for him. Allen grazes the tips of his fingers over yours. He slides his hand slowly into your palm, and watches your eyes fill with sudden tears.

“What… happened?” You whimper.

“I’ll tell you everything once you’re feeling a little better,” He whispers, thinking back to the strict orders from your mother not to upset you. He lowers his mouth just slightly and presses his lips to your knuckles, squeezing your hand tight. “You scared the shit out of me for a second, there.”

A burning sensation behind your eyes makes you wrinkle your nose, your bottom lip trembling as your chest flares with heat. There’s real fear in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be here, he’s supposed to be retired — there’s no money in this for him.

And yet, he’s the only person at your bedside.

He’s holding your hand, and holding your gaze firmly. Letting you think it’s all okay. Your throat hurts as you swallow softly. 

There’s a news broadcast on the television to Allen’s right. The skyline buzzes, alight behind him. It plays on as he opens his mouth to speak again, he seems to have forgotten that it’s playing.

“Following the events of Thursday evening, we have received word that due to complications, a second surgery would be necessary — which is underway as we speak,” The reporter explains solemnly. She and her co-anchor are both wearing black. “The nation’s thoughts are with you, Mr. President.”

You blink at the fuzzy television screen. The picture they used of your father is from your kindergarten graduation. He’s younger there, his hair dark rather than they grey it has been growing into more recently — he’s got an arm around you, and he’s grinning proudly.

“Shit.” Allen breathes out, sitting up suddenly straight.

 The news broadcast is gone with an abrupt beat. Allen drops the remote down onto the side and scrubs a hand along his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw, studying the ground.

Your lips flatten into a firm line, your muscles screaming as you lift your head from the pillow. 

Your gaze hardens. “Is he alive?”

Allen swallows. He gives you a small, serious nod. “Yeah. He’s upstairs, in surgery.”

The tone of his voice makes your chest ache. Serious in a way Allen rarely is.

Creeping into his office in your pyjamas. Scolding him for all the times he missed you teddy-bear tea parties. Sitting with him on the swing set in the backyard of the first house you remember. All the times you had told him you hated him as a teenager. How strongly you had meant it the last time.

Your gaze flickers back to the blank television screen, losing yourself in its sudden darkness. 

“How?” You croak out.

Allen hesitates. He presses his lips together and shakes his head softly. “I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling better.”

You turn your head, blinking heavily as you look around the sprawling hospital room. Your parents really spared no expense. Well, your mom— you guess. 

“Jake?” You ask.

“He’s here,” Allen nods solemnly. “He’s sleeping.”

And you can’t see him. It wouldn’t be good for you to see him, not until you’re feeling better.

“Is he—?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Allen sounds sure, and not in a sugar-coated way. He sounds more positive than he had about your father. “You should rest. He comes to see you in the mornings.”

Being on a ward himself, Jake’s been getting on the nurses’ nerves around here, trying to break the rules so he can wander out and see you for as long as possible. His shoulder is just about fine now, he can almost roll it back the way he used to. The doctor says an injury like his doesn’t heal that fast, but Jake has always been ahead of the curve.

He has spread his time between your room on the fourteenth floor, and where the President has been falling in and out of being classed as critical on the fifteenth with little regard for the fact he’s recovering from a surgery on his shoulder himself. With you breathing, he couldn’t care less about being hit himself.

If the bullet hadn’t caught his shoulder, it would have torn through your father’s lungs and killed him right then and there.

You shoot a quick glance toward the darkened hallway. Allen sighs.

“No.”

“I want to know what happened.” You don’t. Not really. You want to pull these foreign covers up over your head and hide and cry your eyes out, scream this whole place down. There’s no easy way to say it, and really, no one knows how you’ll handle it.

You close your eyes for a moment and wait. 

Somehow, you’re safe — you’ll be okay. Jake’s okay. Your father won’t make it through the week. You don’t remember a thing. None of it makes sense.

Jake remembers every detail. He sits awake too, not in his own room but in the hallway of the twelfth floor — as close as he can get to the operating room without being put on his ass by a serviceman. 

In the mornings that he’s able to visit you, Jake likes to talk to you. You’ve been out of the woods for a while now, everyone knows that it’s just a waiting game until you’re stable enough to be awake. Really awake. On the Monday just passed, you had opened your eyes for a few seconds and just blinked at him.

Brows drawn together all stern, your lips pursed, your eyelashes fluttering. He never thought he would be so grateful to see you frowning at him.

He has heard about the past few days. The panic and stress. He has made a strong case for himself to be allowed to be there, but the people who make the calls won’t budge. It’s just not the right time. 

That’s not true. It’s his punishment. 

It’s his punishment, for not being the one in that operating room with his chest cracked open and twelve surgeons fighting to keep his heart beating.

Having spent most of his adult life working in environments where he was the expendable one, Jake had heard a lot of stories. He had heard, most frequently, that time always slows down in the moments that matter.

Not that day. It had been a blur. He had walked into that exchange with certainty; you would be leaving there with him. 

To an extent, he had been expecting Elias to be bluffing. No man on the planet couldn’t be bought — Jake had been expecting a bidding war, and he knew your father had the right amount of money to make this go away.

It hadn’t been that at all.

His stomach twists when he thinks about how they had paraded you before them. The look on Matthew’s face as he studied the dried blood in your hair, and the fresh blood trickling from your temple.

They had hurt you to prove a point. Almost killed you, to send a message. It was too far gone to be about the money.

Jake knows that he isn’t responsible for this, he isn’t the one that put your father in this situation. He’s the only reason that those surgeons are even trying right now — if he hadn’t been there, you’d both be dead. 

He’ll never not be there again.

Jake sits there through the surgery. On the floor with his elbows on his knees, his head rested back against the wall, he sits there for six hours. It should have taken six hours.

At a little after seven, Jake is startled awake by an orderly rushing past him with a rattling metal cart. He checks his watch, which is now settled on the wrong wrist due to his sling, and clumsily pushes himself up from the ground.

“Hey, buddy,” Jake strains, sighing at the ache through his side and clearing his throat as he finds his footing. “How’s he looking?”

The twenty-something year old in scrubs whips around to look at Jake, his eyes wide with heavy blue marks under them. He looks like he’s been up even longer than Jake has.

“You’re the bodyguard.” The kid seems to realize, blinking as his rattling cart comes to a stop. He glances back in the direction of the theater, then at Jake. “Uh… I don’t know. It’s going to be a while before they can say, I guess.”

A muscle in Jake’s jaw ticks. At seven, Jake walks to your hospital room and usually starts to bug whoever is in charge of watching you until they let him visit early.

He glances towards the operating room, and then back at the orderly. This could take hours, something urgent could happen in the next few minutes. He hesitates.

Then, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his sweats. Jake takes it from his pocket and glances quickly down at the screen, with every intention of answering the kid in front of him.

She’s awake. Asking for you too. 

And Jake’s mind is made up. He can’t wait a second longer. His heart feels like it’s in his mouth by the time he’s pushing open the door to your hospital room.

He has seen the bruises fade from blue to yellow, and the IV lines and monitors all around you every day for almost a week. It does nothing to prepare him for the sight of all of those things once you’re awake and staring at him.

“Honey…” His breath catches in his throat, his brows drawing together.

The comprehensive list of your injuries is still typed up at the foot of the bed. Jake could list them off by heart, by now. Fractured eye-socket. Broken ring and middle finger on your right hand. Soft tissue damage to your left foot. Extreme bruising to the abdomen. The fracture in your rib. Every single one of those god-damned bruises.

Your right eye had been swollen shut that first day. Now, it’s wide open. The bruise is yellowed and sore looking, your eyes filled with fear. 

“Jake.” Your voice cracks and your breathing hitches.

It doesn’t matter that Allen is standing right there, sitting back against the window ledge with his arms folded over his chest. Jake couldn’t care less that your mother is watching him like a hawk. 

She has been every single time he has visited.

The security guard steps out of the way as Jake charges forwards. He takes slow, long strides. He’s trying so hard to remember what you’ve been through, and remind himself to be slow with you, but every fibre of his being wants to pull you close and never let you go again.

He stops at the side of your bed and hesitates, just for a split-second. His eyes scan across your face, searching for doubt or fear. As he makes his decision, you make yours too.

 He leans forwards swiftly as you ball your not-injured hand into his shirt, his fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck and pulling you against him.

The room falls silent. Your nose fills with his smell, your cheek presses firmly into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His thumb strokes at your skin.

For all you care, the other people in the room could have disappeared from the second that Jake touched you. He holds you close, silently. He doesn’t know how much you know yet, whether it’s all or nothing, and he doesn’t care. For now, you’re okay, and you’re with him.

It takes a moment before you notice that he’s only got one arm around you.

Jake watches as you pull back, searching for answers and landing on the blue sling resting around his shoulder, covering his right arm.

“I’m fine,” He assures you instantly, already shaking his head as his palm moves to cup your jaw. He holds your gaze, certain. “I’m fine. It’s superficial. We’re okay.”

Superficial. Allen bites his tongue, but can’t help but disagree. That bullet tore through ligament and bone, and Jake is lucky to be recovering so well. It was far from superficial— the surgery had taken all night. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, weak sounding and trembling. You drop your head forwards to rest against his unbandaged shoulder. “This is all my fault. This is all my fault, you shouldn’t ever have even met—“

“Stop.” Jake whispers, turning his face towards yours and trying to coax you back to look at him. He closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to your temple. “It’s over now. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again. It’s over.” 

Your mother watches. There’s a cautious, nagging feeling that tugs at her that she really doesn’t know you at all. There isn’t much that feels familiar about watching you with him — she wouldn’t have a clue how to calm you the way that he does.

“I want to go home.” You whisper, balling your hands tighter into his t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess that you’re trying to pull him right into your hospital bed with you.

“Yeah, a couple more days, honey,” Jake nods his head. He’s been speaking with your doctor. Once they’re certain that you’re stable enough, you’re free to go. “We’ll get you back to the house.”

“No.” You rush out, so fast that it almost makes you hiccup. It’s then that your head turns, your eyes wide and searching as you look around the room. Just as quickly, before you’ve even met the gaze of Allen or your mother, you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze your eyes shut. Just quiet enough for Jake to hear, you whimper softly. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to go with you.”

Jake feels your mother’s gaze burning into his back, and knows what she must be thinking. She’s about to lose her husband and she thinks that Jake’s going to take you too.

“With me?” He murmurs, stroking a hand over your hair. Your mother has been taking pride in maintaining it — she has cared for you in so many quiet ways recently. Jake will tell you all about it, another time.

“Could — maybe we could see your mom again?” It feels ridiculous to ask, and from the second that the words leave your mouth, you’re already worrying about the kind of danger you could be putting them in.

But for Jake, it makes his heart catch with sudden relief.

“Yeah,” He hums. “Yeah, we can do that.”

He perches on the edge of your bed, draping his good arm around your shoulders. Your mother watches as you curl against him, closing your eyes and finally unballing your fists.

The room falls quiet, and stays that way. 

Allen lets the two of you have the peace and quiet. Your mother, simply, has little to say. 

An hour later, a little after eight, there’s a commotion in the hallway. Jake watches the bustle between the security guards silently, a heavy feeling settling in his gut as he braces for what is coming. 

He feels you perk up at his side as their voices grow more hushed, trying to peek over him.

He turns his face towards your hair and kisses the top of your head softly, wrapping his arm tighter around you. “It’s alright.”

He pities the poor guy who opens the door to the room, forced to meet your mother’s gaze with a sullen expression. He clears his throat weakly, hands tucked behind his back. “Ma’am.”

Your mother isn’t a dumb woman. She doesn’t need it explained to her. The doctors had explained the risks, and explained that he might not make it. Her husband is dead.

…

[pumpkinbxtch]

hello, a request please, from apollo x readerposeidon, how does apollo react if hermes tries to flirt with his girlfriend reader (hermes just wants to bother his older brother)

• this is a message for THAT nereid!

— apollo x daughter of poseidon!reader

warnings: none

a/n: Hi baby. here's your apollo crew being jealous there's nothing more like him than that.

✷

Apollo started biting his nails as soon as he heard your laughter echoing in his dining room, which he found stupid because it was HIS dining room and you were laughing with another guy right in his face. Well, it was not just another guy, it was his brother, which made it a million times worse.

His visits used to be enjoyable, now not so much.

— So, ¿what do you say? — Hermes asked, winking at you, and Apollo wondered about the sudden need to make his life miserable by looking you in that way.

Your lips painted another smile as you playfully shook your head, glancing sideways at your boyfriend, who was struggling not to throw the vase at his brother's face. Honestly, it amused you. “This is for all the times you let that Nereid flirt with you in front of me,” you thought, it was your perfect revenge, and with his brother willing to play along, they were hitting the nail on the head.

— Hmm. What do you say, darling? We can stay in that house for the summer. It's close to the water, and I think it would help me train while waiting for the swimming tryouts.

Apollo forced a smile and nodded silently, if he spoke, he'd surely yell. Hermes played with the crystal glass and leaned slightly towards you.

— Even if my brother can't be with you all the time, you can go on your own — he said, looking at his brother, pretending to be kind, and Apollo felt his blood boil. — I'll keep an eye on her for you, brother.

Apollo scoffed — I don't want you keeping any eye on my girlfriend, thanks.

The double entendre floated between you, and you pressed your lips together, trying not to smile.

Hermes ran his hand through his black curls while making loops with his hand, trying to find words to elaborate. That was exasperating, Apollo thought he was just trying to look dashing. For his misfortune, his brother kept talking.

— I think it'll be fine, she needs it for her training, after all, right? — He turned to you with the blue eyes that every son of Zeus seemed to possess. — Although, they should fear you from now on, doll.

Apollo choked at that word and drew both of your attention.

— Is everything alright, Apollo? — Hermes smiled maliciously, and the sun god remembered the stupid rule that whoever gets angry first loses.

— Nothing — Apollo replied, snapping his fingers to start the music. maybe breaking that stupid tension.

When “The Girl Is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney started, you were close to crack up. You couldn’t believe him.

— I love this song, little bro — Hermes hummed while drumming his fingers on the glass table, passing over the message on purpose.

“'Little bro'? I'm the older one,” Apollo thought, annoyed. He couldn't wait to kick that idiot out of his mansion.

The part with the ex-beatle began, and the messenger of the gods leaned closer and starting to sing to you.

— I love you more than he… — Hermes winked at you.

— Okay, enough — Apollo exclaimed, standing up and covering his brother's mouth with his hand. He kept singing even as his voice died in your boyfriend's palms.

 Apollo growled and shot you a furious look before disappearing with him in a golden dust.

As you were left alone in the dining room, you burst into laughter and took a sip of water, impressed by your brother-in-law's performance.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, and you masked your smile with a serious expression.

 Apollo dusted off his hands and sat back down, his eyes fixed in the center of the table. You cleared your throat and casually propped one leg up on the chair, playing with your hair as you listened to him rant.

— And tell me, my love —your voice echoed through the palace vaults, — how does it feel? — In the midst of those emotions that had him on the edge of a psychotic episode, that question caught him off guard. You raised your eyebrows sanctimoniously and smiled smugly.

Oh.

— You! — He pointed at you accusingly, and you ran off giggling.

As he tried to catch up with you, he heard the echoes of the palace bringing the reason you played along with his brother's stupid game: “Tell that damn Nereid to screw off, you're mine!” And the brake on his heels, now fearing you'd walk back to him.

Okay, you won. Definitely, Apollo wouldn't even talk to a rock if it kept you from flirting with his brother again.

✷⁠

[nora12379]

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, polyamory

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, polyamory, domination, double play, emotional dependency, trauma, revenge, mental torture, physical constraints, extortion, abuse of power, degradation, erotic pain, double penetration, anal sex, cigarette consumption, five-way plans, fellatio, 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

NDA : Hi! This is the last chapter of this story. It’s quite long compared to the first part, and I’m considering revising chapter 1 because I’m not fully satisfied with it. Let me know what you think, and happy reading!

The division was done by @dollywons; she makes very beautiful ones for those who are interested!

Happy reading!Not proofread, sorry for the mistakes!

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.

TAG

@strxwbloody

[lumpyspaceprincess05]

Til death do us part

Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of apollo!reader

Warning: angst, betrayal, violence, mentions of blood

Word Count: 1.3k

Author note: I really hope you like it!

Summary: After Luke admitted to working with Kronos, he wants you to escape with him. Will you go?

Tensions were high, why wouldn't they be? Luke brought Percy out into the woods where he figured everything out. He was the traitor that they had been desperately searching for. Now, he wanted to recruit Percy to help Kronos with his plan of revenge against the gods for what they had done to him before Zeus took over.

After his failed attempts at convincing, Percy lunged at Luke, sword in hand ready to deal the first blow, but Luke was faster. Always had been. He smirked as the sound of metal clashing over and over echoed through the quiet forest.

Luke was becoming increasingly frustrated. He was angry. This was not how it was supposed to go. By all means, he was not losing. Well, that was until Annabeth removed her invisibility cap and revealed herself to Luke. His smile dropped. If she was here then that means you must be close by.

He already wasted enough time.

The adrenaline coursed through his veins as he fought back even harder against the two he once considered his friends. He eventually overcame them and they were now sprawled on the dirt, trying desperately to regain themselves and capture him.

"Luke!" Your voice echoed as you finally emerged from the tree line. As soon as you saw him, you felt relief and ran over to him nearly knocking him over after jumping into his arms. He smiled as he steadied himself and wrapped his arms around you in response.

You pulled away and cupped his face as you examined him for injuries. "What happened? It sounded like a fight was going on. Are you hurt anywhere?" Your anxiety settled a little as you saw no bruising or blood on his person.

"(y/n), I'm fine. See?" He took hold of your hands that cupped his checks and just held them in his. He looked deeply into your eyes as he gently caressed the back of your thumbs.

"(y-y/n)...get away from Luke." Annabeth coughed, finally regaining her strength. Your head snapped around and you saw both her and Percy lying on the ground and covered in dirt. Also, was that blood falling from Annabeth's cheek.

You quickly rushed over to them wondering how you hadn't noticed them before. "What the hell happened to you guys?" You slowly helped your friend sit up and guided her to lean against the tree.

"It was Luke." She quickly coughed out before losing her breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean by that, Annabeth?"

"He's the traitor. He stole Zeus's master bolt and Hades' helm to start a war with the gods. He and Ares used Percy to deliver the bolt to Kronos himself-" Your heart broke at this revelation.

You stood from her side and slowly walked back to where you left Luke standing. A tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at your boyfriend. He avoided eye contact with you, feeling guilty that you had to find out this way.

"Tell me that she isn't telling the truth." And when he remained silent, you had your answer. "Why, Luke?"

He ran a hand through his hair wondering if he should bring you into this. He then spoke.

"The gods need to pay for what they've done to us, and Kronos is the only one able to make that happen," he stepped forward and brushed a loose piece of hair behind your ear before finally settling on your cheek.

"I'm doing this for you, for us. Don't you get that? I want us to be free from our parents. Free to make our own choices. Free from the monsters that want to hurt us. I don't want to live in fear of their wrath anymore. Worrying every single day that we'll never be good enough for them. That they can claim us and just easily disown us without any remorse." He poured his heart out as tears left his eyes. How did I not notice that he reached his breaking point? Have I really been that oblivious to his feelings?

The both of you were in tears. Luke quickly wiped his away as he turned towards the treeline. He grabbed his sword and began cutting into the air until a portal of blues formed.

"I love you, (y/n). I want to love until the end of life itself, but I can't do that with Zeus still on that throne." He reached his hand out to me. "Come with me, please."

The world stopped. Your eyes moved between his open hand and him.

Did you want to go with him? Of course, you did. You would follow him to the very ends of the earth if given the chance. Why would you even consider declining his offer? You loved him with all your heart, mind, body, and soul, and you would do nothing more than spend the last of your days fighting by his side.

He looked at you with desperation you had never seen from him before. He knew you would come with him, but he had a tiny little piece of doubt when you started hanging out with Percy, Annabeth, and Grover. Did their ideals get to you?

There was a war coming and your lover wanted you close to him. This was the only way he knew he could protect you... if you left with him.

You quickly wiped your tears and raised your hand up to his, but a quick shot of a small sword prevented them from joining. Luke cursed under his breath when he saw that Annabeth had quickly recovered her strength and now she held Percy's sword, ready to finish him off once and for all.

Luke quickly grabbed hold of your arm and turned you around with your back to his chest. He held the sword against your neck.

"Drop your weapon if you don't want me to hurt her."

You quietly called him wondering why he was doing this. You had already agreed to go with him. Why did he have to put on a show if the both of you could just run to the portal? You just decided to trust his judgment. He would never hurt you.

"You're bluffing. You'd never harm her." Luke scoffed as he pressed the sword harder against your neck. It made a small cut into your skin and blood trickled down. Ok, that stung a little.

"Do you want to test that theory, Annabeth? Do you really want to be the reason why one of your friends doesn't make it out of here alive to see the sunrise tomorrow?"

She thought about it. Luke was not in his right mind anymore so who's to say he wouldn't go through with his threat. She slowly lowered her weapon and watched as Luke walked backward pulling you along until he disappeared into the portal.

You were both gone.

Percy groaned as Annabeth rushed over to help him up. She quickly wrapped one of his arms around her neck and her free arm around his waist.

"I can't believe that he hurt her. That seems out of character, even for him." He rolled up his sleeves and looked at all the bruises that had gained from the fight.

"It was all a show." She said, matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?" She shook her head. Oblivious as always.

"He was offering her a way out."

"A way out of what?"

"If Luke held her with a sword to her neck, who's to say she went with him out of her own free will." The cogs started to turn in his brain and a light bulb went off. His face dropped soon after that revelation.

Guilt plagued his mind. "Do we have to tell Chiron about this?"

Annabeth remained silent as she gathered her thoughts. "I didn't hear their conversation really well. Did you? What I just told you right now was just purely speculation." She stated before they began their journey back to camp.

[brodorokihousuke]

I firmly believe that, given the right circumstances, Apollo is one of the only main Ace Attorney characters I can see intentionally causing someone else's death.

I mean, the guy has an intensely one-track mind, and once he's set on something he feels is the truth or the best solution to a situation, he isn't going to let that go for just about anything. Hell, look at Dual Destinies, where he splits off from everyone to go on a legal revenge quest while (presumably) in constant excruciating pain (can't see him wanting to dull his thoughts with pain meds) instead of... asking about a reaction.

So, if there was some situation where, for whatever reason, he convinced himself the best solution was to kill someone, it is... not completely unreasonable to imagine him taking matters into his own hands.

[bloodyshadow1]

the thing with Mutiny, is that the actual mutiny was the right thing to do. Eurylochus as the second in command, it was his duty to mutiny against his captain for the good of the crew. Odysseus was willing to sacrifice, to basically murder 6 of his men to feed a monster so they could get away. There was no plan to defeat or evade Scylla, he fed those men, the men who trusted him, who followed him to Troy and fought beside him.

There is a difference between knowing your men are going to fall in battle, there's a difference between baiting your enemy on the battlefield and putting your men at risk. Even though Eurylochus opened the bag, or was willing to leave behind men in Circe's clutches, there is a difference between accidentally getting your men killed or not wanting to fight a goddess and risking the lives of your entire crew to save a few and sacrificing them to a monster.

Eurylochus is far from sinless or blameless, but he was in the right at the start of Mutiny. And to be clear, he and the crew deposed Odysseus, but they didn't murder him. They all still respected the man he was, but yes, they have the right to rebel if they think he's going to willingly get them killed, to make them pawns to sacrifice on his way home, not their way home, yeah, they have a right to mutiny.

People act like they were always planning this instead are desperate and terrified. they followed his orders to sail into the underworld, they were loyal until they realized how disposable they were. Yes, killing Apollo's sacred cows was bad, and I don't blame Odysseus for not being willing to sacrifice his life to save the men who betrayed him. But don't act like it's him getting revenge on the cold hearted brigands who stabbed him in the back out of greed. Everyone was desperate, everyone made mistakes, Odysseus is just the plaything of the gods so he got to survive, because the Odyssey is his story, his tragedy