(This chapter contains mention of sexual harassment so if that is not what you are comfortable with, please skip where mentioned)

✬

With eyes sharp and inquisitive, Jungkook's gaze focuses on the item suspended upon Y/N's neck, a flicker of curiosity playing upon his features. He clears his throat and begins, his voice carrying a tint of intrigue. "I beg your forgiveness," he apologizes, "but I find myself consumed by curiosity, especially concerning the object gracing your neck. Would you be so kind as to indulge me? Please, enlighten me as to the meaning or origin of this item, I implore you."

Y/N's attention is drawn to the DSLR camera hanging from her neck, her fingers tracing its shape subconsciously. A mix of anticipation and curiosity washes over her face as she tilts her head, meeting his inquiring gaze. "This?" she responds, her voice tinged with both wonder and uncertainty, gesturing towards the camera. "Were you referring to this?"

Y/N delicately unchains the DSLR camera from her neck and cradles it in her palm. Just as she was about to utter a word, her speech is abruptly severed by the unforeseen interruption. The air is filled with an expectant pause, weighted with the promise that something momentous is about to transpire.

In a swift and unexpected display of caution, Jungkook, gripped by a surge of wariness, retrieves his weapon and positions the cool blade against the delicate skin of Y/N's neck. He perceives the DSLR camera she holds as a potential threat, its unfamiliar form stirring a sense of unease within him.

Jungkook's voice is firm and commanding as he directs his words at Y/N, his eyes fixed upon the DSLR camera in her hands. "Remove that... contraption from my vicinity," he demands, the tip of his sword still pressed against her neck. His tone is laced with a mix of wariness and authority, underscoring his distrust of the unfamiliar object.

Y/N can't help but chuckle, the situation's absurdity amusing her despite the sword still against her neck. "You're quite the entertainer, aren't you?" she remarks, a playful smile curving her lips. She continues, "I assure you, this camera is harmless."

In response to her lighthearted response, Jungkook's expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he gently presses the sword against her skin with a bit of pressure, attempting to emphasize the reality of the situation. "This is no jest," he asserts, his voice firm yet tinged with an undertone of caution. "I am utterly serious. I advise you to heed my warning and keep that... contraption away from me."

Y/N's eyes flicker with a mixture of defiance and purpose as she shifts her grip on the DSLR camera, positioning it to capture a perfect frame of Jungkook. Her fingers, skilled and sure, deftly adjust the settings on the camera, calibrating the focus and exposure to perfectly highlight the intensity of his gaze and the sharpness of his features. "Hold still," she instructs, her voice firm yet tinged with an undertone of anticipation.

In an attempt to protect himself, Jungkook swiftly repositions his sword, aiming the blade towards the DSLR camera. His eyes widen with surprise as a sudden flash emanates from the camera, momentarily blinding his vision. The unexpected burst of light leaves him momentarily disoriented, his hand faltering for a brief moment.

Y/N's laughter fills the air, her amusement evident as she shows Jungkook the picture captured on the camera's display. The image reveals his eyes widened in surprise, while the sword lies poised as if in a defensive stance against the camera. A smirk plays upon Y/N's lips as she presents the photograph, the juxtaposition of Jungkook's reaction and the weapon appearing humorous.

"See, it's just a camera," Y/N explains, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. "It captures images, like this one." She points to the picture showing his bewildered expression, the sword against the camera. "The flash you saw was just the camera's way of capturing the light in the moment."

Jungkook's curiosity is piqued further as he ponders the capabilities of the camera. His question comes forth, his voice tinged with a mix of fascination and skepticism. "How did you do that? And how exactly does this contraption function?" He studies the DSLR camera with a watchful gaze, the sword now lowered slightly, his wariness replaced by a flicker of intrigue.

Y/N smiles at his question, appreciating his interest. "It's quite simple," she begins, holding up the camera to demonstrate its features. "This 'DSLR' camera captures light and stores it in its memory. When I press this button," she explains, pressing the shutter release button, "it saves whatever it was pointed at in that moment. That's what the 'flash' was — it just gathered enough light for the picture."

Jungkook's keen eyes study the camera in Y/N's hands, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he diligently takes in the explanation. He nods, a simple gesture of understanding, his gaze never straying from the device as if trying to comprehend its intricate workings within the confines of his own knowledge and experience.

𓆩♕𓆪

Y/N moves with purpose around the small dwelling, sweeping the floor with brisk, efficient strokes. The rhythmic scraping of the broom against the rough stone floor fills the small space as she diligently tidies up, her mind lost in contemplative thoughts. In the background, the clamor and chatter of the castle beyond the closed door create an ebb and flow of sound, punctuating the otherwise quiet room.

As Y/N moves around the room, diligently performing her chore, a sudden jolt of memory triggers a cascade of images in her mind. Her mind is transported to the recent past, recalling the moment when the King, Jungkook, extended an offer for her to stay in his kingdom until her bracelet was found. The scene flashes through her consciousness vividly, the recollection as clear as if it had happened just moments ago. The king's command, his face, the sense of hope and uncertainty that accompanied her acceptance — all flood her mind in a rush of emotion and memory.

Her eyes drift to the elegant hanbok that has been provided for her to wear, a stark contrast to the modern, short black dress from her own time. In her hand, the broom halts midway through its stroke, her focus shifting from the task at hand.

Y/N straightens up from her bent position, a soft grunt escaping her lips as she releases a weary sigh. Her hand comes to rest on her hip, a gesture of exhaustion and mild frustration. "Ugh," she mutters under her breath, the effort of tidying up the house clearly taking a toll on her. "I'm not used to all this cleaning. It's exhausting." The weariness in her voice is evident, as she pauses for a brief moment to rest her fatigued muscles.

Despite her apparent tiredness, Y/N quickly shakes off her moment of exhaustion, returning to her task at hand. She resumes sweeping the floor, the rhythmic scraping of the broom against the stone floor filling the room once again. Though her body may be weary, her determination to tidy up is evident in the diligent movements of her sweeping motions.

As the hours passed, Y/N finished tidying up the humble house. The small dwelling, consisting of a single room and areas for cooking and using the bathroom, now appeared neat and presentable. The absence of furniture forced her to take a seat on the cold, hard floor, her weary body finally finding a moment of rest. Exhaustion settled into her bones, the strenuous chore having taken its toll.

Y/N lets her head fall back against the wall behind her, the cool surface providing a momentary comfort against her weary body. A soft exhale escapes her lips, a sound infused with both relief and tiredness. She murmurs quietly to herself, her voice laced with exhaustion. "I'm so tired..." The words hang in the air, evidence of the physical exertion she had put herself through in tidying up the house.

Y/N lowers her gaze to her hanbok, taking note of the dirt and grime that has accumulated on the elegant garment. The hours of cleaning had left it stained and disheveled. It becomes apparent that a shower is necessary, not only to freshen up for herself but also to clean the borrowed clothing. She lets out another weary sigh, acknowledging that the thought of a shower would be a welcome relief to both her weary body and the dirty hanbok she wears.

Y/N enters the designated bathroom area, though it lacks modern amenities. Instead, she finds a simple pot with no shower or tub in sight. The absence of any bathing facilities becomes evident as she looks around, a perplexed expression on her face. The reality of the situation sets in, leaving her to wonder how she is supposed to take a shower with only a tap as the source of water. Frustration mixes with disbelief as she takes in the primitive setup.

Y/N stands in the makeshift bathroom, her frustration growing as she looks around the small space. The lack of any proper bathing facilities leaves her at a loss. She exclaims to herself, her voice carrying a mixture of disbelief and confusion. "Where and how am I supposed to take a shower, bro?!" The absence of modern amenities in this primitive setting only serves to add to her puzzlement and growing irritation.

Y/N stands before the closed door, the silence of the room surrounding her. Her mind begins to battle with the decision at hand. On one hand, the thought of going out and asking one of the females for help crosses her mind, but there's hesitation there too. The idea of seeking assistance is mixed with a sense of self-reliance and pride, making the decision even more difficult.

She debates within herself, the internal struggle clear on her face. On the one hand, the practicality of seeking help and the need for basic hygiene pull at her, but on the other, the instinct to resist asking for aid

Y/N's internal debate continues, her determination to take charge of her own needs battling with the practical necessity of seeking someone's help. The silence in the room feels heavy as she contemplates her options. Finally, she steels herself, her mind made up as she decides to overcome her initial resistance. With a firm resolve, she pushes open the door and steps outside, ready to find someone to ask for assistance.

As Y/N steps outside, her gaze turns to the passersby walking along the cobblestone street. The streets are alive with the hustle and bustle of people going about their daily routines, some stopping to chat, others hurrying to their destinations. The scene is one of vibrant activity, people moving from one place to another, their faces a mix of various expressions and backgrounds.

The small girl, no more than 4 years old, skips up to Y/N with a bright smile, her small feet tapping lightly against the cobblestones. With an innocent curiosity in her eyes, she looks up at Y/N and speaks, the youthful lilt in her voice carrying a hint of admiration. "You are so pretty!"

Y/N's face lights up with a warm smile as the small girl approaches, her heart melted by the innocent compliment. Without hesitation, she lifts the girl into her arms, a gesture of affection. She plants a gentle kiss on the girl's cheek before replying, her voice full of playfulness and affection. "Oh, thank you, sweetheart. But you're even prettier, you know that?"

The small girl, feeling a bit shy and bashful, nestles her face into the crook of Y/N's neck, seeking comfort and warmth. A soft sound of contentment escapes her, a mixture of shyness and joy. Y/N's heart melts at the adorable gesture, her laughter filled with affection. She gently strokes the girl's hair, her touch gentle and tender.

Another young lady gracefully makes her way towards Y/N, her presence marked by a soft yet confident stride. Her gaze lands upon the scene unfolding, and she calls out with a sense of maternal affection, "Yoora!" The name rolls off her tongue effortlessly, a familiar sound that hints at a prior connection between the girl in Y/N's arms and the approaching individual. Her voice holds a gentle concern, yet there is a hint of firmness as she calls out to the small child, clearly eager to be reunited with her.

The older girl, having called out for Yoora, turns her attention to Y/N with a warm smile. There is a touch of apology in her expression, and she speaks with a friendly tone. "I'm sorry if Yoora caused you any trouble," she explains, her words carrying a hint of embarrassment. "She's such a handful, always running off and getting into mischief."

Y/N chuckled softly, appreciating the older girl's concern. "Please, don't worry," she assured her, her smile widening. "Yoora was an absolute sweetheart. She didn't cause any trouble at all. In fact, she couldn't have been cuter." The words flowed effortlessly, carrying a tone of sincere reassurance. Y/N's warm expression clearly showed her genuine affection for the little girl, whose innocent charm had won her over.

The older girl grins, her features softening as she scoops Yoora into her arms lovingly. She turns her attention to Y/N and asks with a caring tone, "Are you feeling better now?" The question carries a hint of concern, as if she wanted to ensure that Y/N was alright after their interaction. There is a tenderness in her eyes as she speaks, indicating a sincere interest in Y/N's well-being.

Y/N's expression turns contemplative, a small frown creasing her forehead as she realizes that the older girl seems to know her. With a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise, she asks, "How do you know me?" The tone of her question is gentle, her voice carrying a hint of mild wonder. She is genuinely intrigued, wondering if there is some connection or familiarity between them.

The older girl laughs lightly, her eyes sparkling with affectionate mirth. "Oh, that explains it," she responds, her tone carrying a touch of amusement. "The soldiers of King Jungkook informed the entire village about your presence as our guest," she explains, her words laced with warmth and pride. "They mentioned that it was our responsibility to ensure that you feel welcome and well cared for during your stay."

The older girl continues speaking, her expression brimming with curiosity and excitement. "You know, all the women in the village are absolutely eager to meet you," she explains, her voice filled with a tinge of anticipation. "We've never had a foreign woman visit our humble village before, so you're a rare and intriguing presence to us." Her eyes sparkle with anticipation as she glances at Y/N, clearly captivated by the novelty of Y/N's presence.

Y/N scratches her neck awkwardly, a gesture that betrays her slight discomfort. She contemplates how to inform the girl that, contrary to their perception, she is not a foreign woman, but rather someone from the same country - Korea. However, she is from the future, while they represent the past. Her mind searches for a way to explain this complex situation effectively, her thoughts momentarily muddled as she tries to find the right words.

Y/N leans in slightly, a hint of sheepishness in her expression. "Well, to be honest," she confesses candidly, "I was actually trying to figure out how to take a shower." Her statement hangs in the air, laced with a mix of embarrassment and mild humor. She meets the girl's gaze with a slight cringe, her face reddening slightly at the unexpected revelation.

The older girl lets out a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh," she responds, her tone lighthearted and casual. There's a hint of understanding in her smile, suggesting that she may have guessed that Y/N's dilemma was related to basic hygiene.

The older girl's face lights up with infectious enthusiasm, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. She exclaims excitedly, her words flowing with infectious energy. "You know what?" she gushes, her demeanor filled with eagerness. "We're going to take a bath very soon. You should join us! It's a tradition for the women in our village to gather together for a communal bath. It would be wonderful if you could come along with us."

Y/N is not a stranger to the concept of communal bathing, recognizing it as something that has historical significance and cultural relevance, particularly in traditional societies. She has likely studied it in her lectures and gained some theoretical knowledge about the practice. With this understanding, she is familiar with the idea of what the women are suggesting and the unique experience it entails.

Y/N meets the older girl's gaze, her eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and resolve. She takes a moment to consider the invitation, weighing the potential awkwardness against the opportunity to experience something new and immersed in the cultural significance of the ritual. After a brief pause, she nods her head, signaling her agreement to join the women for the communal bath. A slight flicker of apprehension flickers across her face, but determination also shines in her expression.

𓆩♕𓆪

Y/N stands at the edge of the communal bath, watching the other women as they go about their business. The sight of them casually bathing together, completely unbothered by their nudity, is both intriguing and somewhat jarring to Y/N. Her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the scene before her, her mind trying to reconcile the stark difference in cultural norms and practices. Despite the initial discomfort, she maintains an air of composure and observational curiosity as she witnesses the familiar yet foreign ritual unfolding before her eyes.

The girl, having now finished undressing Yoora, looks up at Y/N and offers a warm smile. "Oh, I almost forgot," she says, her voice carrying a hint of mild embarrassment. "My name is Misun." She introduces herself kindly, her eyes meeting Y/N's directly. There is a hint of a blush on her cheeks, perhaps a result of having momentarily forgotten to mention her name earlier.

As Y/N turns her focus back to the scene before her, she notices a group of women approaching her. One of them greets her warmly, saying, "Welcome to our village." The words carry a sense of pride and acceptance, and the women's friendly tones instantly put Y/N at ease. They greet her with open smiles, their eyes curious yet welcoming as they take in her foreign presence.

Y/N turns to the women who have gathered around her and composes herself. With a soft smile on her lips, she introduces herself, "My name is Y/N. It's a pleasure to be here." Her voice is steady, despite the nervousness and excitement she feels. She looks at each woman, meeting their gazes with a mix of confidence and curiosity.

The women observe Y/N for a moment, noticing her initial hesitation and awkwardness. One of them gently asks, "Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Her tone is filled with genuine concern, and the others nod slightly, their expressions reflecting the same worry. They can sense Y/N's unease and want to ease her nerves.

The women, seeing Y/N's unease, reassure her by explaining that communal bathing is a common practice in their community. They tell her, "You don't need to feel uncomfortable. Communal bathing is a traditional custom here. It's normal for us, and there's nothing to be uneasy about." Their words are gentle and soothing, their voices carrying reassurance as they try to help Y/N feel more at ease in the foreign environment.

Y/N listens to the women's words, absorbing their explanation about the cultural norms of the village. The air of openness and acceptance in their voices begins to ease her initial discomfort. Slowly, the tension in her shoulders relaxes, and she nods slightly in acknowledgment. It's clear that she is starting to warm up to the idea of participating in the communal bath, although a hint of uncertainty still lingers in her eyes.

One of the women gestures towards a secluded area nearby and instructs Y/N, "Please go behind that area and leave your hanbok there." She motions with confidence, her eyes gentle but firm. "When you're ready, feel free to come back here." The area she indicates is presumably a designated spot for changing clothes, away from the main bathing area. The women stand by, giving Y/N a moment to privately prepare herself.

Y/N glances at the indicated area, her mind a mix of anticipation and mild nervousness. Slowly, she nods, acknowledging the woman's instruction. With a shaky breath, she takes a few steps towards the secluded area, her heart thumping a little faster against her chest. One hand reaches up to touch the fabric of her hanbok, a silent moment of hesitation before she prepares to remove it.

Once Y/N reaches the designated area, she carefully sets her hanbok aside, folding it neatly to avoid wrinkles. The action is deliberate and thoughtful, reflecting her respect for the traditional attire. As she does so, she takes a deep breath, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through her. She steals a glance at the main bathing area, catching glimpses of the women who are waiting for her.

Y/N takes another deep breath, summoning her inner courage. She removes the final piece of clothing, her skin now exposed to the open air. She feels a momentary shiver run through her, a mix of vulnerable and exposed. With a resolute nod, she takes a step forward, her body now bare and vulnerable. Her steps carry a hint of hesitance, but there's also a newfound determination in her movement. Y/N walks slowly towards the main bathing area, her eyes catching the gazes of the waiting women.

As Y/N approaches the main bathing area, she notices that the women around her don't pay much attention to her now bare form. Instead, they focus their gazes on her face, their eyes meeting hers without a hint of judgment or curiosity about her body. This subtle act of respect and nonchalance warms Y/N's heart, and a small smile tugs at her lips. It's a small gesture, but it makes a significant impact, showing that the women are more interested in her presence and conversation than her physical appearance.

One of the women motions to Y/N, her voice gentle yet encouraging. "Come with us," she beckons, leading the way to the steps that descend into the water. The group of women carefully makes their way down the stairs and into the water, one by one. The water level rises, gently engulfing their breasts as they sink deeper into the warm embrace of the bath. There is a sense of comfort and familiarity in their movements, as if this is a routine ritual they have repeated many times before.

Y/N sinks into the warm water, the soothing heat working its magic on her muscles. The tension in her body eases, her back and shoulders loosening up as she allows the water to envelop her. A soft sigh escapes her lips, her eyes closing momentarily as she relishes in the sensation. "This is so relaxing," she manages to say, her voice hushed and filled with gratitude. The women surrounding her smile, their eyes filled with understanding and agreement.

Y/N shuts her eyes, sinking further into the water, enjoying the contrast between the warm water and the slight chill in the air. Her upper body, above breast level, feels the cool breeze gently caress her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. The sensation of the warm water enveloping her lower half, from her breasts down, provides a comfortable and soothing counterpoint to the cool air above. The mix of temperatures and sensations creates a unique, almost therapeutic experience.

Y/N takes a deep breath and submerges herself fully into the water. The muffled sounds of the world outside are momentarily quieted as she finds herself immersed in the warm embrace of the water. She splashes the water on her face, cleaning her features, before repeating the motion to rinse her ears and neck. Her movements are deliberate and precise, her focus solely on the task at hand. The water gently cascades down her face, washing away the day's weariness, before she resurfaces once more to breathe.

𓆩♕𓆪

Y/N was seated on the floor of her room, her dinner spread out before her on a low table. The room's ambiance was serene, the only light provided by a few oil lamps placed strategically around the space. She picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks, lifting it to her lips and taking a bite. The taste was unfamiliar yet delightful, the flavors mingling together in a harmonious symphony on her tongue. It was quiet, save for the soft, soothing sounds of the night wind wafting through the open window, creating a comfortable ambiance as she continued to eat.

Y/N's mind drifts back to the events after their communal bath. She remembers the kindness and generosity of the people of the village. They had offered her food, an act of hospitality and acceptance, which she deeply appreciates. The memory of the delicious food and the warmth in the villagers' eyes fills her with gratitude. Despite the unfamiliarity of her surroundings and the differences in customs, the people in the village have welcomed her with open arms, and she silently vows to repay their kindness.

Y/N continues to eat her meal, her thoughts accompanied only by the faint sound of insects outside and the occasional clink of her utensils against the dishes. She feels a pang of loneliness, as she realizes how different her current situation is from her normal life. In her own time, she would have access to various forms of technology, activities, and entertainment to pass the time. But here, in this simpler, older world, those distractions are non-existent. The silence feels more profound, and the lack of technology is a stark reminder of the time period she has stepped into.

Y/N finishes her meal and sets her utensils down on the slab with a soft clink. With a sigh, she pushes herself up from her seat, the sound of her movement breaking the silence of the room. She reaches out and gathers the dishes, careful not to make any sudden noises as she moves them. Her hands are steady, yet there is a hint of weariness in her movements. Placing the dishes back on the table, Y/N takes a moment to lean against the table, her eyes lost in thought.

Y/N lets out another sigh as she walks back to the low table and lifts it up with both hands, carefully placing it to the side. Her movements are gentle yet deliberate, her strength evident in the ease with which she maneuvers the table. Once it's positioned, she stands back and looks around the room, her eyes taking in the now-cleared space where the table used to be.

Y/N grabs the broom and begins to sweep the floor, meticulously removing any pieces of debris and dirt that may have accumulated. The room is already tidy, but she still goes through the motions, the repetitive action helping to steady her thoughts. Once the floor is cleaned, she sets the broom aside and returns her focus to the space on the floor where she intends to sleep.

There are no proper cushions available, so she uses a few pieces of clothing to provide a makeshift pillow. She positions them carefully, making sure they'll provide some cushioning for her head. With the makeshift pillow in place, she settles onto the floor, preparing to sleep on the hard ground.

As Y/N lies down, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. The room is quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional rustle of leaves outside and the soft sound of her own breathing. She tries to relax her body, but the unfamiliar surroundings and the hard floor make it difficult to find comfort. She shifts her position, trying to find a comfortable spot, but the makeshift pillow feels lumpy and awkward under her head. Despite the challenges, she continues to take deep breaths, attempting to ease her body into sleep.

Y/N is startled out of her thoughts by a sudden knock on the door of her room. She sits up quickly, her eyes wide, and her heart rate spikes slightly at the unexpected noise. A puzzled frown creases her forehead as she wonders who could be knocking at such a late hour. She sits quietly for a moment, listening intently, trying to decipher if the knock is a product of her imagination or if someone is really waiting outside.

Y/N realizes that the knock on her door is indeed real and that someone is waiting outside. She stands up and walks over to the door cautiously. She knows that there are no peek-through holes in this era, so she has no choice but to call out to the person on the other side. With a clear, firm voice, she asks, "Who is it?" There is a hint of nervousness masked under her curious tone.

Y/N watches in surprise as a hand suddenly appears through the gap in the door, trying to unchain the lock from the other side. Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back as she realizes that the person on the other side is not just knocking but trying to force themselves in. Her heart races, and her mind goes on high alert as she decides how to handle the situation.

Y/N's surprise quickly turns into anger and frustration as she sees the person on the other side attempting to force open the door. She grabs the edge of the door, trying to hold it shut as she yells, "WHAT THE HELL?!" Her voice is loud and filled with righteous indignation. She forcefully pushes the door, trying to keep the person outside from gaining access.

Y/N's eyes widen as she is suddenly pushed back, losing her balance and falling to the floor. The force of the door opening and the unexpected movement cause her to trip and stumble, her body hitting the ground with a thud. She lands on her backside, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs for a moment. Her heart races even faster now as she tries to catch her breath and process what just happened.

(skip from here)

Y/N doesn't waste any time in expressing her anger and defiance. She quickly gets up from the floor, standing tall before the three men who have entered her room unannounced. She raises her voice, yelling fiercely, "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE I DO SOMETHING YOU'LL REGRET!" Her expression is a mix of rage and determination, her eyes locked onto the men as she tries to keep them at bay.

One of the men, the tallest and burliest among the three, steps forward with a sneer on his face. He looks at Y/N with a mix of curiosity and mockery. He asks, his voice rough and filled with a hint of contempt, "You're the harlot they've been talking about, aren't you?" The question hangs in the air for a moment, his eyes roving over her figure, taking in her appearance as though she were a piece of prized livestock.

Y/N's frown deepens as she notices the man approaching her. She steps back, creating a small distance between them, and responds defiantly, "What harlot? I am not a harlot!" Her voice is firm, but there's a slight tremor of fear and unease that she tries to hide. She meets his gaze directly, her eyes filled with a mix of defiance and anxiety, her back now pressed against the wall, with nowhere to retreat.

One of the other men, a wiry and sly-looking character, steps forward as well, a sleazy smile on his face. He looks at Y/N and explains, his words almost a taunt, "We're here to please ourselves. You're the entertainment for the night." His tone is disrespectful, and his eyes gleam with a sinister glint as he takes in Y/N's body, as though she were a plaything for their amusement.

The third man, a shorter and stocky figure, chimes in as well, his voice thick with desire. "Show us what you've got, woman," he says, his tone eager and almost expectant. His eyes are fixed on her, taking in her figure, as he awaits her reaction.

Y/N feels a surge of disgust and anger as she listens to the man's lewd command. In a flash of rage, she grabs a small pot that's nearby and swings it violently at one of the men's head. With a swift and furious movement, she connects the pot with his skull, producing a dull thud. She screams at them, her voice filled with anger and determination, "I SAID GET OUT!!"

The stocky man, his face contorted with anger and rage, seizes hold of her wrist with a firm grip and forcefully pulls her towards him. In a quick and forceful motion, he pins her down on the ground, his body weight immobilizing her beneath him. His eyes burn with a dangerous mixture of anger and entitlement, the veins in his forehead protruding with fury. He curses at her, his words spewing out like venom, "You little wench! How dare you hit me?!"

The two other men quickly jump into action, each grabbing one of her hands and holding them firmly in place. They stand on either side of her, their strong grips preventing her from wriggling free. Y/N looks at them in horror, her eyes wide with fear and a sense of helplessness. She struggles, trying to pull her wrists free, but their grips are tight and unyielding.

Y/N's voice rises in a desperate plea, "LEAVE ME!" she screams, her voice laced with fear and frustration. Her struggles grow more frantic as she tries to shake off the men's iron grip on her wrists. She twists and turns, attempting to break free, but their strength is too overpowering, and their hold on her is unyielding.

Despite her efforts, Y/N's attempts to kick or gain any kind of leverage are fruitless. The stocky man pinning her down on the floor is too heavy and strong, his weight completely immobilizing her. No matter how much she strains or writhes, she can't move her legs enough to provide an effective counterattack. It's a crushing realization, and despair claws at her heart as she feels her options to fight back slip away.

As the realization sinks in, a single tear welled up in Y/N's eye, a testament to her inner turmoil. In that moment, her mind was filled with visions of the horror that might transpire, the helplessness and helplessness she felt weighed on her like a ton of bricks. She shut her eyes tightly, silently pleading for rescue.

The stocky man, still with his face close to her neck, sniffs her scent, his hot breath against her skin. He speaks, his voice a sickening mix of condescension and desire, "You look better than any harlot I've been with."

Y/N's skin crawls with disgust as the stocky man's words sink in. The proximity of his face to her neck, the feel of his hot breath against her skin, and the smugness in his voice all contribute to the overwhelming sensation of revulsion. The mention of the word harlot stings like a slap in the face, further fueling her anger and despair. Despite the fear gripping her heart, she forces herself to stay still, her body tense and rigid as she awaits the next move.

Y/N's voice trembles as she gathers all her strength and yells out, her voice filled with desperation, "HELP!" The word echoes in the darkened room, reverberating off the walls. Her heart pounds in her chest, every beat a plea for rescue, each breath a wish for someone, anyone, to hear her plea and come to her aid.

The stocky man's hand, reaching towards her clothes, halts mid-air, just inches away from touching her. In an instant, a powerful and unexpected blow strikes the back of his head, rendering him instantly unconscious. He slumps forward, his weight collapsing onto her. Y/N freezes, her eyes widened with a mix of surprise and relief. The suddenness of the situation leaves her momentarily stunned, her body tensing up as the shock of the unexpected rescue registers in her mind.

"Are you okay, Y/N?"