#original marijuana content

[gloomypixiie]

When the Cookie dawg too loud 🍪

[lucia-and-the-sacred-oracles]

Lucia is 420 friendly! 🍃

[fushiguho]

Roll Some Mo ☆ Suguru Getou

☆ Word Count 5.7k ☆ Synopsis Suguru Getou, your classmate, a stoner, a slut. When he invites you out to smoke one night after class, he can’t help but to bare is soul, admitting his slight infatuation with you, the prettiest girl on campus, but what happens when you think you might feel the same way? ☆ Content Warnings Marijuana use, car sex, mutual pining ☆ A/N This was originally meant to be a drabble but I had too much fun with this. It’s heavily inspired by the songs Roll Some Mo by Lucky Day and Wet Dreams by J. Cole! Also, this is a reimagining of a Connie fic I wrote on Ao3 almost three years ago :o ENJOY!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･

Further and further you sink into your reclined seat, easing into a state of euphoria as you take another ponderous drag from the dwindling joint. Inhaling deeply, you allow the thick, earthy cloud of smoke to slowly fill your lungs, long lashes fluttering closed in serenity. Soon tilting your head back to languidly blow it out of the open sunroof above before taking another hit.

Suguru eyes you silently, quirking a curious brow before sneakily stealing the carefully rolled joint from your fingers. “Never took you for a smoker,” he’s placing it between his lips, a sly grin pulling at one corner of his mouth, “didn’t think you liked to have fun.” He gibes, inhaling deeply just as you did.

You can hardly help the exaggerated, thespian roll of your eyes as you scoff. “Just because I’m smarter than you and don’t skip class doesn’t mean I don’t like to have fun, Suguru,” your smaller hand is reaching for his, attempting to steal the joint back, but he’s teasingly jerking his hand away, “stopppp, Suguru…” you’re whining as you begin to crawl over the center console, determined to retrieve it, “ever heard of working first and playing later?” You continue as you're contentedly settling back into your seat with the salvaged joint.

He gives a noncommittal shrug, stuffing a hand into the pocket of his little, black athletic shorts. “Guess I just prefer to play… nothin’ wrong with a little fun, hm?” Is all he says before plucking the joint from your pretty, glossed lips, returning it to his own, the essence of your lip balm lingering on the paper. You observe as he pulls leisurely, allowing the cannabis to swell in his chest before tilting his head back and pushing out the smoke.

Surprisingly, you don’t quarrel back. Instead, you gnaw on your inner cheek, contemplative in silence as you eye the smug, sable-haired man beside you. Suguru sits slouched in his seat, long legs spread lazily—wide enough that one of his knees are pressed against the driver’s side door, the other resting abut the center console. He almost looks tired as he sprawls himself across the reclined seat of the car, the diminishing joint tucked between his nimble fingers.

Long, unsecured strands of dense hair slip from the tie at the back of his head, loose tresses of inky black escaping the haphazard bun, adorning his neck and shoulders in a dark, tousled mess, yet he’s still as handsome as he is on the rare, fleeting days he makes an appearance in class. You can’t ignore your wandering curiosity. What is it like? What is he like? Beyond the singular class you happen to share, you have no idea as to what Suguru does aside from skipping class and smoking copious amounts of weed. Is there more beneath the surface? Beneath those godforsaken shorts?

The not-so-subtle trail of your wandering gaze doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re far from shameful as you wordlessly gawk, dragging your gaze along his relaxed mien, his low, gradually reddening eyes eventually catching yours. He brings the joint to his lips, taking yet another deep pull. A slow, crooked smile mars his face, crinkling his subtly darkening eyes.

Suguru’s head cocks to the right. “What?” He laughs—a sharp gust of air through his nose.

Humming, you shrug, gesturing a hand for the now microscopic joint. “Why’d you ask me to smoke with you?” You’re genuine in your curiosity, tilting your head in inquiry. Prior to tonight, Suguru has only ever sought you out for the answers to homework assignments he inevitably forgets to do—which you always inevitably end up doing.

“Because I like you,” he says calmly, transfixing his unwavering gaze on the way you wrap your lips around the joint, inhaling deeply, “and you might be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen… so I had to ask.” His heart skips a beat when your eyes eventually meet his, your brows furrowing in confusion.

Oh.

Oh.

You shake your head in refutation, an incredulous smile creeping onto your face. “No, don’t try n’ butter me up, you’re not slick, Suguru,” you laugh, dismissing him, “you just like that I do your homework for you ‘cause no one else’ll do it.” You glare, flicking the end of the joint onto the ashtray atop the dashboard.

Deadpanning, Suguru falls silent, shrugging his shoulders as if he’s said all he needed to—as if the arbitrary basketball is now in your court and he’s waiting patiently for you to get off the bench. He’s unsmiling and dour. Fuck, is he serious? Part of you is afraid he might be, yet there’s another, more curious part of you that’s swooning like a giddy little girl with their first crush.

You’re stumped. “Oh, you’re serious?”

Suguru nods, leaning in closer to gauge your expression. He’s close, eyeing you silently, flitting his intense gaze from your furrowed brows down to your perfectly glossed lips. He’s cocking his head to the right, grinning lazily as he closely admires your dumbfounded expression. His scent envelops you—the heady, lingering redolence of his cheap cologne, marrying with the earthy terpenes of marijuana. God, he’s too close.

“Said I like you,” he purrs, now a hair’s breadth away, the warm fan of his breath against your parted lips, “you gonna make me beg? ‘Cause I will if you want me to... if you’re into that,” his voice softens, trailing in a whisper, “I can do anything you want… what do you want from me tonight, hm?”

The car falls silent as he awaits your reply, the air so thick you can feel it brush against your skin—or is that him? Is it the curious hand that’s reaching for your necklace? Lithe fingers toying with the gold plated pendant that hangs dangerously low from your neck. Is it benign? Innocent? Did he mean to run his fingers along the supple skin that spills from your top?

“But why tell me now?” You swallow thickly, flitting your gaze down to observe the way he twirls your necklace between his fingers. “Took you all semester to figure it out?”

He shakes his head softly, a slow, bewitching grin playing his wet lips. “Been workin’ up the courage… you make me nervous as all hell y’know,” he admits, wandering gaze falling to your lips again, “pretty women make me nervous.”

Like a naive moth to a rampant flame, something is drawing you closer, almost like you’re falling forward—into him. Is it the weed? Is it him? There’s a subtle glint of suggestiveness that twinkles in his irises, his crude gaze still holding yours. You huff an unintentional breath, your ever growing curiosity getting the worst of you. What is he like? What does he feel like? Why is the thought of not knowing killing you?

What is under those fucking shorts?

“What do you want?” He hums as if the question still looms.

You swallow thickly once more, “. . . I want you to tell me that this will mean something to you tomorrow,” you’re subconsciously leaning into his growing sense of touch, a large hand now slowly creeping up your neck, cupping your jaw as you speak, “and that you’re not just tryna sweeten me up so that you can fuck me. Promise me that, Suguru.”

He nods reassuringly, a burly thumb now grazing your bottom lip, “I promise… hm? I promise you I want you—I think I need you,” his thick, sable brows furrow in profound revelation, “but, can I… can I kiss you, please? It’s killing me…” his eyes soften, searching for a glimmer of your approval. Your slow, encouraging nod makes his cock twitch.

Not even a breath later, Suguru’s pulling you closer by the hand that holds your face and eagerly slotting his lips against yours, “mmph—m’sorry, I just need to taste you… been thinkin’ about putting my hands on you all fuckin’ semester,” he mutters between his hurried movements, another hand is also reaching for your face, deepening the haphazard kiss, “so I wanna apologize right now for my greediness.” He almost warns.

Several warm fingers are threading through the hair at the nape of your neck, holding your face taut as he pulls you further into him. He breathes you in, inhaling your sweet, gourmand scent while you sigh against his mouth, relaxing into his ever-growing touch. It’s almost as if he’s waited his whole life for this moment, as if he’d truly die if not for your saccharine smell—your touch. God, what’s stopping him from eating you alive right here? Right now?

Then, the fleeting redolence of your sweet perfume that’d waft from the stride of your walk was enough to have him pressing his thighs together underneath his desk, fruitlessly attempting to suppress the painful throb of his cock. But now that he’s gotten this close, Suguru is positive that fucking his hand like a devolved caveman will never be enough again. He needs more… he needs you.

You almost miss the hand that’s reaching for yours, pulling it close to palm the painful erection that hides beneath his slutty little shorts. As he drags your hand along the length of his hardening cock, the surprised little oh’s! and gasps that slip past your lips forces a stifled moan from his chest. It’s not enough, he thinks. He wishes you could feel him everywhere. So really, can you blame him when he’s willing himself away, but only crawl to the backseat of his car, hoping you’ll follow?

Apparently not because not a second thought passes as you trail behind him, clambering to meet him in the back of his black, stanced, Subaru Impreza. As if it’s second nature, Suguru is immediately pulling you onto his lap, his large hands finding purchase on your waist while your thighs ache deliciously to accommodate the girth of his muscular hips.

Later, maybe you’ll fault the weed for the way you desperately hump yourself against him, huffing out the prettiest little sighs as his thick, deft fingers haphazardly roam your body. They’re everywhere—dancing up the hem of your shirt, into the waistband of your sweatpants, grazing along the sensitive skin of your tummy, and anywhere else his greedy hands can reach.

“You’re sooo pretty… fuck. I think about you in class just like this.” Suguru hums, two, big hands cupping your jaw as he croaks a wicked grin. His warm thumbs absentmindedly caress your lips and cheeks. “I’ve cum so much to the thought of you… so many times that it hurts—swear you make me so hard it fucking hurts.” He’s greedily gripping at the thick of your hips, subtly guiding your body as he bucks his hips forward, creating his own, purposeful rhythm, one that he likes.

“I do too… I think about you doing horrible things to me,” you admit in a timid whisper, sweet lips falling into a pretty little ‘o’ as your head lolls back to dangle between your shoulder blades, “get so wet thinkin’ about what your cock would look like—what it would feel like…” arousal pools from your cunt as your stomach caves, your poor underwear dripping in your essence.

“Yeah? Fuck, can you feel it?” Suguru’s hips are bucking forward once, deliberately pressing his cock firmer against the palpable heat of your core. “You feel how hard you get me? How hard you get me every fucking time I see you? Everytime I smell you?” The slow, calculated roll of his hips only deepens, forcing strangled huffs of air from his gaped mouth.

You can only nod dumbly, humming in pleasure as he begins to run a wet, eager tongue along the length of your neck—one, longggg, ponderous drag from your collar bone, allll the way up to that sensitive spot hidden behind the shell of your ear. As you graciously crane your head to the side, granting him unobstructed access, several, small, fleeting kisses are left in his wake, leaving your throat and chest a beautiful, kiss-bitten mess.

Two, calloused hands are slipping up the hem of your shirt, curiously feeling you up—they’re greedily pulling you closer as they creep up your arched back before blindly dancing to the front, feeling the soft skin of your tummy. Your lips sag open, wanton whimpers and sighs of his name tumbling carelessly as he grazes the pads of thumbs along your hardening nipples. You can’t help but to wonder if he’s always been this handsy with his prey—this greedy. Has he always been the type to play with his food before he eats it?

“I… I wanna see it,” you mutter as you begin to climb off of him, eagerly reaching for the waistband of his shorts, “can I see it?” His cock throbs painfully against the fabric of his shorts when you peer up at him. Long, fluttering lashes, batting ever so sweetly as you gently palm his clothed cock.

With a gaped mouth, Suguru nods. Without so much as a second thought, he’s pushing his hips forward, tugging his shorts down the meat of his thighs, baring his stiff, swollen cock. You can’t help the incredulous gasp that slips past your lips. The head weeps in sinful rivulets of his arousal, pearlescent bubbles of precum popping and snapping before erotically dribbling down the length of his cock, fuck.

“Knew it was pretty…” you simper, whispering more to yourself if anything as you wrap an eager hand around the girthy base, beginning to slowly tug at his length, “and you’re so wet too.” You giggle, leaning forward to lick the vein that runs along the underside of his cock—the singular, thick, protruding vein that stretches from the fat of his swollen balls, allll the way to the leaking mushroom tip.

The slow, delirious loll of his head as it falls back to press against the headrest of the car makes your stomach knot in arousal. “Oh, f— fuuuck.” Is all he can manage—a deep, strangled, throaty groan that rumbles from the depths of his chest. Suguru bucks his hips once toward your teasing hand. “See w-what you do to me, huh?” He bucks again, twice… thrice.

It’s so thick—so ready and eager to be devoured, whole. He can hardly suppress the singular, guttural moan that belts from his gaped lips when you finally take him into your warm mouth, swirling your tongue around the messy head to collect the bitterly sweet arousal on your tastebuds.

Hums of pure satisfaction slip from the corners of your tautly stretched lips as you swallow more of him, moaning wantonly from how perfectly fills your jaw, the tip of his cock now brushing the entrance of your throat. He twitches lewdly against your plush tongue, the poor head weeping out more of his endless arousal.

You’re pulling away with an obscene pop! quickly gathering saliva behind your puckered lips before lolling out your tongue, drooling on the pretty head of his cock. Wordlessly, you both observe as the slick substance dribbles down the girth of him, eventually pooling near his fat, swollen balls in a sinful puddle. His eyes flit to meet yours, a sinful glint of carnality gleaming in his darkened irises.

With your gaze transfixed on his, you’re leaning your head to the side, dragging your lips up the length of his heavy cock. Wet, sloppy kisses are left in your wake. You even take it upon yourself to roll out your tongue, sluttily slapping the drooling head against the plush center of the slick muscle. A guttural groan tumbles from his gaped mouth as his head falls to the right, hips unintentionally bucking toward your touch. Eventually, you’re taking him back inside like before, a sweet, relishing hum of contentment falling from your lips.

“I knew you’d be nasty, fuck,” he gapes, carding his fingers through his thick, sable locks in disbelief, “just by the way you fuckin’ walk. I just knew you were a nasty girl—slapping my cock on your tongue like that… what the fuck? Who does that?” You only giggle at his incredulity.

Suguru sucks in a tight breath through gritted teeth, gasping incredulously as you begin to adopt a sinful rhythm, your fluttering eyes searching for his as you slowly start to bob your head. A shaky whimper falls from his permanently slacked jaw before he curses to himself when a curious hand is reaching a little lower to play with his swollen balls. It’s not long before he’s gasping, face contorting in his overwhelming pleasure whilst you toy with his heavy balls, your other hand tugging at the base of his pretty cock, your wet lips wrapped around the head.

“Ohhh, god…” you’re sputtering around him, the subtle roll of his hips forcing his cock deeper, “yeeeeaah, that’s a good, pretty girl… gag on it—mhmmm, just like that, s’okay,” he’s nearly panting as a deft hand reaches for your hair, thick fingers finding purchase at the back of your head, aiding your movements, “yesss, baby… f— fuck, take all that cock. You been thinkin’ about this?”

You attempt to hum in agreement but gag horribly instead. Rivulets of drool pool from your mouth and dribble down the length of his cock, accumulating in a sinful puddle near the short, sable tufts of hair that adorn his crotch. Suguru only simpers to himself at your response, a languid, lust-stricken grin marring his pretty face.

He cocks his head slightly, brows furrowing. “Breatheee, sweet girl,” he drawls, reminding you of the overtly obvious fact, tittering at the way your eyes threaten to roll to the back of your head, “through your nose… yeaaah, thaaaat’s it, good girl… see?” He’s peeling away the few strands of hair that stick to your forehead, baring your cock-drunken mien. “You really are so pretty.”

God, what sight for sore eyes—the perfect melody for battered souls. The debauched, gut-wrenching gurgle that reverberates as you swallow the length of his cock forces you to clamp your thighs together to lull the achy throb of your cunt.

Suguru can’t help the trail of his eyes down your perfectly arched back. He sits upright as you lean over him, your knees planted on the seat while your hips absentmindedly sway in the air. A large hand is finding purchase on the fat of your ass, kneading and caressing greedily before creeping a hair lower, cupping your clothed cunt.

Long, adept fingers dance along your heat—pressing and dragging against the fabric of your sweats, touching you through the hindering material. You buck into his touch, rolling your hips to feel more of him, whimpering around the girth of his cock when he finally slips a hand past the waistband, haphazardly pushing the garment down to expose the pretty lace of your panties

You’re drenched. Utterly and completely drenched. Suguru’s eyes widen, jaw falling slack at the sheer amount of arousal that seeps through the thin fabric of your panties. Several warm fingers are running along the entirety of your cunt, collecting the slick, viscous essence that soaks through.

“Look at thaaaat,” he admires, pulling his hand away to observe the arousal that adorns the pads of his fingers, “you always get this wet from sucking cock?” He’s pulling you off so that you can nod properly, adoring the way a gossamer of saliva connects your bottom lip to the head of his cock. 

Deliriously, you’re beaming up to catch his lips in a wet, sloppy kiss, blindly kicking off your sweatpants to rid yourself of the garment before planting yourself on his lap. A long, slutty whine falls from your lips when Suguru is reaching between your warm bodies, pulling your panties aside to run three, fat fingers along the heat of your cunt, spreading you apart. He swallows all of your pretty, little wails of pleasure, his warm tongue licking its way into your sweet mouth, desperate to taste you.

Like a sunflower growing toward the warmth of the sun, you’re coiling into his touch. Your breasts press against his chest while the large hand that rests on the small of your back is pulling you closer. “Why are you arching like that, huh?” He taunts, a sinful tease on his tongue. Two, fat digits are disappearing inside of your sloppy hole. “You wanna fuck? Is that it, pretty girl?”

Meekly, you nod, a helpless, prolonged whimper dragging from your kiss-bitten lips, heading straight for his cock. Suguru huffs out the sluttiest little breaths, nearly panting from his gaped mouth as you buck against his hand. God, he’s going to make a mess of you tonight and he’ll make sure of it.

“Yeah? You wanna fuck me?” Suguru’s lips are creeping down your neck, a trail of wet, openmouthed kisses left in his wake. “Fuck me then,” he whispers, breath hot against your skin, “reach down and put my cock inside of you and fuck me however you want… however that slutty pussy wants.”

Sable, lustrous eyes hold your gaze crudely, his large pupils dilating in ever growing rapture as you reach between the palpable heat of your bodies to press the swollen, mushroom head of his cock against your drooling cunt. You share a singular, incredulous gasp as you begin to sink down onto him, brows furrowing while your mouth sags open.

A sultry, drawn out whine falls from your parted lips. Inch by fucking inch, you swallow him whole. Pretty, desperate pussy stretching so obscenely wide, slabbering down the length of him until you’re literally balls deep. It aches—the delicious, burning stretch of his cock as it fervidly splits you apart with the sole intention of gutting you out completely.

His jaw hangs wide, a throaty, wanton groan of pleasure bellowing from his lungs. “Yeaaaah, th-that’s it… c’mon pretty girl, fuck me,” two, dexterous hands are pulling at your hips, long fingers splaying across the fat of your ass, “oh, god you feel so fuckin’ good—knew you’d feel so good… fuck me, baby c’mon,” the subconscious buck of his hips beneath you is forcing his cock deeper, the near deafening squelch of your overfilled cunt like kindle to an ever growing flame, “move those hips n’ fuck me however you want.”

Both of your hands are reaching to his shoulders for stability as you awkwardly clamber to plant your feet on either side of his hips. Then, you’re raising your hips off of him, sheathing yourself from his cock until the poor, weeping head rests against your salivating entrance, wordlessly begging for more. 

Suguru’s head is slowly craning back, peering up at you hungrily through the fallen strands of inky black that adorn his forehead, occluding his vision. A painstakingly slow and slutty grin is marring his wet lips when you eventually lower your hips, greedily sucking him in. His mouth drags open while he nods up at you slowly, silently encouraging you to fuck him—to ruin him.

So, you’re lifting your hips once more, only to slam them back down again, and again, and again until you’re stupidly bouncing up and down the monstrous length of his cock, taking exactly what you need from him. You hardly even register the way you’re beginning to lean back, elongating your torso as your hands fly behind you to blindly grasp the center console.

You’re huffing out prettiest sighs as you babble. “F— fuuuuck, oh my god,” you nearly growl through gritted teeth, lolling your head back as you roll your hips to meet his shallow bucks beneath you, “you feel sooo good… oh my god. Such a p-perfect cock.”

“Heh, yeah, sweet girl? You been thinkin’ about fuckin’ me like this? Do you dream about it?”

Your brows furrow as you nod dumbly. God, you truly are the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. It’s the way you're shamelessly fucking him like your favorite toy, like an inanimate object with the sole purpose of making you feel good. He always had a feeling you’d be like this—so desperate… slutty. His gaze is hungrily trailing down the arch of your pretty little body. It almost feels predatory—as if you’ve been running for so long and finally, he’s got you all to himself and he’s as starved as ever.

Suguru’s hands are everywhere—they’re squeezing the thick of your hips as you fuck down onto him, guiding your frenzied movements. They’re greedily creeping under the hem of your sweat-ridden shirt, bunching up the fabric to bare your pretty chest. They’re even pushing the fat of your breasts together so that he can hungrily stuff his face between them.

His tongue is darting out, licking a wet, sloppy trail along the expanse of your chest between openmouthed kisses. Sweet hums of pleasure are lost and muffled in the plush, suppleness of your tits. He’s so greedy, he can hardly help the hands that are eagerly yanking your shirt over your head, blindly tossing it to the front of the cabin.

“Fuuuck…” he groans, kissing up your tummy, trailing slowly from your navel toward the deep valley between your breasts, “you’re sooo fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?” He hums and you nod once, whimpering obnoxiously when his lips eventually reach your throat. “Prettiest girl on campus.” He whispers, warm breath creeping up your neck.

“Tell me I’m pretty again… please.” You pant, your sweet mouth gaped as you await his praise.

He’s leaning forward to draw you close, pecking your lips once. “You’re so pretty… such a pretty girl,” he repeats sincerely, sitting up slighty to pull you off of him, laying you along the backseat of his car, “you wanna get fucked like a pretty girl too?” As he questions you his head is cocking to the right, ungainly shuffling in the cramped space of the car to situate himself between your plush thighs. A wicked, toothy grin that tugs at the corners of his lips when you nod up at him with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

God, the heat is palpable. You can feel the growing need, the desperation, the hunger. His cock sits so eagerly between your thighs, begging for something, anything. The poor head still leaks with precum, weeping sinful tears of desperation, aching to feel the overwhelming pressure of your slick walls drooling around it yet again. And how it stands so impatiently, so hopeful, hungry. It’s absolutely going to split you apart and Suguru will make damn sure of it.

You’re whining so desperately at the torturesome and ponderous drag of his cock along your sloppy lips, hips bucking wildly in an attempt to lull the painful throb of your greedy cunt. The cutest little pout plagues your lips as he grins devilishly, his closed fist squeezing down the length of his cock, pushing the messy head against your swollen clit. Just as you’re readying to cry out a complaint, as if he can read your desperation, a fat thumb is finally pushing the tip inside of your slabbering hole, his hips soon following, stuffing you completely full at once.

The deep, elongated thrusts that immediately ensue pry your jaw open, allowing the beautiful cries of his sweet name to spill from your raptured tongue. It’s utterly obscene—the way he’s reeling his hips back so far, far enough that the tip of his cock just barely rests against your entrance, only to heavily pummel forward, stuffing himself to a hilt. And he does it again, and again, and again, until you’re moaning and panting like a bitch in heat, grasping at his shirt to ground yourself.

Surguru’s lips are pursing together, biting back the whimpers that threaten to erupt from his chest. “Suuuch a pretty pussy, fuck… c’mere,” he nearly growls, reaching a large hand under the small of your back to pull you up, “look at it, watch how it goes inside… yeaaah, watch how my cock slides into that slutty little pussy,” he’s holding you upright as you peer between your thighs, observing in an incredulous haze as your arousal sheathes the entirety of his cock, “goddd, you’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

He’s roughly yanking you closer, big, strong hands squeezing at the thick of your hips, selfishly pulling you onto his cock, meeting himself halfway. The hefty batter of his relentless thrusts jerk your entire being, your pretty tits bouncing so perfectly for him, wordlessly begging to be touched. Obliging to your body’s silent needs, Suguru is slipping a hand up your tummy, fingers inching toward your hardened nipples. A calloused thumb is swiping across one of the sensitive buds, forcing a helpless whimper from your lips. 

Another big hand is reaching for your face, cupping your jaw as a warm thumb curiously grazes your bottom lip. Instinctively, your lips are parting, silently inviting him into your mouth. The salty digit pushes inside, resting heavily against your tongue as he mercilessly fucks you into the backseat of his car, rivulets of your drool spilling down his hand. What a fucking mess… all of it.

Your pretty pussy leaks like a broken faucet that begs to be mended—so sloppy and needy, poor legs spread achingly wide as he drills into your slutty little hole like a madman on the brink of utter insanity. Fuck, you’re not even sure if you’ll make it out alive, definitely not with the way he’s starting to apply pressure to the back of your thighs, prying them open even further to pin them to the seat with the sole intention of fucking you deeper.

Suguru is leaning forward on the hands that hold your thighs, exerting all of his weight into his palms so that he can fuck with his entire being. His hips are drawing back like before, but when he begins pummeling into you, the tip of his fat cock repeatedly strikes against your cervix, his bruising thrusts bullying your poor, ravaged cunt.

“Hah—ohhh my god… f-fuck fuck fuck,” you’re gasping, reaching a desperate hand between your legs to touch your swollen clit, “fuck, m’gonna cum, Sugu—nnghh, you’re gonna make me cum!” The repetitive, dulling strike of his swollen balls against the fat of your ass only pushes you further.

“Yeah? You gonna cum, pretty?” He’s cooing encouragingly as he leans in closer, the tip of his large nose brushing yours. “Fuck, do it then, cum for me so good n’ make a mess on my cock, baby c’mon,” his lips are on yours again, kissing you sloppily—nothing but wet tongue and clashing teeth, “c’mon baby, thaaaat’s it… cum on my cock like a good girl.”

Suguru gapes as your back arches off the seat, pressing your tits into the air as you roll your hips to meet his sloppy thrusts. Then, you feel it. Your stomach is caving in sheer arousal, clouding your senses in a warm, white haze and you’re utterly delirious. Head spinning as your eyes threaten to cross, drool dripping from the corner of your parted lips as your walls squeezing the length of his cock. Your ravaged, fucked-out body falls limp as he continues to pummel into your sloppy cunt, forcing your sweet, viscous arousal to leak onto his expensive, cloth seats.

“Hah—oh my god, fuck. M’gonna cum so muchhh… this pretty pussy is gonna make me c-cum, fuck,” god, he’s a fucking mess. His mouth sits wide as he babbles, thick brows furrowed while he desperately chases his own orgasm. Fat, leaking cock bullying its way deeper and deeper inside of your battered cunt, eager to cum anywhere you want it. “Fuck, where do you want my cum, sweet girl?”

With both hands, you’re pushing the fat of your breasts together, wordlessly encouraging him to cum on your pretty, plush tits. A slew of incoherent profanities fall from his lips as he unwillingly pulls himself out of you, frantically jerking his cock in his tightly closed fist. You’re shuffling to sit upright, lolling out your tongue, waiting patiently like an obedient puppy, ready to take all of his cum like the good girl he knows you are.

Suguru’s head is falling back to dangle over his broad shoulders, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows thickly. His lips are pursing together as he hums in rapture, whimpering strangled, erratic breaths through his nostrils. His forearm tenses as he hastily strokes his slick cock. Each time his fist nears the head, his wrist is slightly twisting to the left before his thumb swipes across the opening. A large hand is reaching behind you to greedily pull you closer, his wet cock resting against your chest as he continues to fuck his hand inches from of your face.

“Holy fuck, look at youuu… you’re so ready for it,” he huffs a gruff chuckle, abdomen tightening while cock twitches against the palm of his hand, “god, c’mere.” He’s inching impossibly closer, whining so prettily as he cums, hard. An unbroken chain of guttural moans drag from his gaped mouth as he’s spilling across your chest and tongue in several, thick, viscous gushes, painting you in a beautiful, translucent sheen.

It’s too much... all of it—his pretty boy moans, the way he drunkenly gazes down at you, the fingers that are swiping across your chest, collecting his release, only to stuff them into your open mouth, forcing you to taste more of the bitterly sweet substance. A content hum drags from your obstructed mouth as you suck on his fingers, your tongue sluttily sliding down the lengthy digits before releasing them with an obscene pop!

Suguru smiles down at you lazily, shaking his head in utter disbelief at just how slutty you got for him tonight. Who would’ve thought that the smart, quiet girl who sits directly in front of him in rhetorical theory likes to get fucked like a whore in the back of a car?

“When can I take you on a real date, huh?” He hums, backing away to slouch against the rear door on the driver’s side of the car, opposite of you.

You shrug, eyeing him. “When you ask me.” Is all you say, teasingly nudging his knee with your foot.

“Tomorrow night then,” he smiles, pulling you into him so that he can hold you close, “let me take you out on a real date. Wherever you want, pretty girl.”

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

masterlist

synopsis: you’re in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

pairing: modern au ellie x reader

word count (work in progress): 74.8k

minors do not interact

i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the spotify playlist:

chapter 1

synopsis: you attend a frat party with friends and you run into the girl who broke your heart the summer after freshman year, ellie williams.

content warnings: cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, use of marijuana, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, homophobia, brief mentions of predatory men

chapter 2

synopsis: you’re dragged to a diner with your friends and some strangers. you speak to ellie for the first time in months.

content warnings: cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of marijuana and alcohol, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, brief mentions of homophobia

chapter 3

synopsis: dina comforts you after a drunken night.

content warnings: cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of vomit

chapter 4

synopsis: a flashback to how ellie broke your heart.

content warnings: cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, also toxic!ellie kind of, mentions of marijuana, sexual speech and content, brief mention of straight girls experimenting with lesbianism, toxic family relationships, lesbian situationship, descriptions and mentions of death & grieving, depressive episodes, cheating if you squint but it's more betrayal than cheating really?, bad driving for like two seconds, description and mention of vomit

chapter 5

synopsis: you encounter ellie’s latest romantic conquest and an ex-fling of yours from long ago.

content warnings: cursing, angst, slight slut-shaming, brief mention of death

featuring one of my favourite people in the world’s original songs, "sometimes you lose your soulmates"

chapter 6

synopsis: you reminisce on how you first met abby anderson.

content warnings: cursing, angst, messy lesbian relationships/situationships, loser!ellie makes an appearance for 0.5 seconds, brief and indirection mention of marijuana, mentions of death, brief mention of reader's genitals (implies that reader has a vagina, but if you headcanon reader as a trans girl w/a penis, just pretend it's a metaphorical vagina, i fully encourage it), sexual speech and content (not fully smut but there are drops of it), depictions of nudity

chapter 7

synopsis: ellie’s POV. ellie deals with feelings of jealousy.

content warnings: dealer!ellie, LOSER!ELLIE, cursing, ANGST, use of marijuana and alcohol, brief mention of death, descriptions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), sexual speech and content, brief mention of violence, brief description of homophobia

featuring the sabrina carpenter song “decode”

chapter 8

synopsis: you have a heart-to-heart with jesse.

content warnings: cursing, angst, lesbian flirtationship?, mentions of kissing, mentions of a weapon (it's just ellie's switchblade), descriptions of injuries and bruising, abby is hot and cocky (duh)

chapter 9

synopsis: ellie's POV. a view into the week ellie had when she'd discovered you with abby anderson.

content warnings: cursing, angst, descriptions of and allusions to physical altercations and violence, descriptions of alcohol, dealer!ellie, more loser!ellie, mentions of smoking and marijuana

featuring the stephen bishop song “it might be you”

chapter 10

synopsis: after agreeing to go on a night out to the lesbian bar “the bow and arrow” with abby and her friends, you run into an old face.

content warnings: cursing, angst, descriptions of alcohol, straight men eww, unwanted advances, reader is implied to be shorter than both abby and ellie (if you think you're not, let's just pretend for a line or two for the sake of storytelling lol), descriptions of sexual harassment, descriptions of physical violence

featuring the equal creatures song “waiting in the wings”

chapter 11

synopsis: a flashback to when you first met ellie williams.

content warnings: cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, descriptions of alcohol and underage drinking, mentions of homophobic slurs, descriptions of marijuana use, men being creepy in general, drama between exes, descriptions of an anxiety attack, mentions of nausea and vomiting

chapter 12

synopsis: dina discovers a secret you’ve been keeping. you have dinner with abby.

content warnings: mentions of alcohol, descriptions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, allusions to toxic parents, description of murder (in a joking fashion), flashback scene, some descriptions from ellie's POV, descriptions of marijuana and marijuana usage, allusions to toxic ex-friends, slightly sexual behaviour

chapter 13

synopsis: ellie’s POV. the aftermath of your dinner with abby is revealed. ellie has several eye-opening conversations.

content warnings: mentions of marijuana and descriptions of its usage, descriptions of anaphylactic shock, brief mention of needles, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of death, descriptions of jealousy, mentions of breakups, several flashback scenes, mentions of LSD and its usage, descriptions of acid tripping

featuring the songs “i think i love you again” by aaron taylor and “merry christmas darling” by the carpenters, an audio of a phone call between ellie and joel, and a drawing of ellie by my very talented little sister

chapter 14

synopsis: you finally wake and find yourself in the hospital.

content warnings: some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide

please note that i am no longer accepting requests to be added to the taglist, so if you would like to be notified when a new chapter comes out, please follow @belleloves and turn notifications on!

more coming soon! ♥︎

[userpedros]

personal stash || joel miller

pairing: Joel x female!reader

summary: Joel decides after patrol it'd be a good idea to steal from Ellie's stash and things get a lil heated.

word count: 6k+

authors note: I wrote this in pretty much one go, so it is what it is. has not been beta read, barely proofread - mostly skimmed. also, Joel isn't as much of a hardass in this because he deserves a break okay. my mans gotta be tired from always being so angry.

warnings & content : 18+. Incredibly mature themes. Mentions and use of marijuana. established friendship. age gap (15+ years (honestly probably more like 20 but)), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral - fem receiving, creampie-ish, slight cum eating, slight choking. pet names (dirty and nice!) (lemme know if i missed anything!)

“Are you sure she’s not going to notice, Joel? She’s your daughter, she’s pretty observant.” You looked over at Joel, giving him the side eye as he brought the lighter up to the end of the joint. You placed it between your lips as he lit the end, the tip illuminating a bright red before you inhaled, the end of the joint finalizing into a smokeable piece. You inhaled as Joel watched you, taking a deep breath in, holding it, and letting it out. The smoke began to curl and fill the air as Joel began to answer your question.

“’ M positive. Do y'think she’d ever suspect me? Nah. I reckon she'll suspect you.” He winked as he took the joint from your fingers, his large ones making the joint look minuscule between them. He inhaled, his eyebrows furrowing as he closed his eyes, and leaned his head back. As he breathed the thick smoke out, he sat back up, staring straight into your soul.

His salt and pepper brown hair tousled, strands going about every which way. His brown eyes looked you up and down as you took your turn with the spliff.

“Why ever would she suspect me?” Your eyebrows rose as you inhaled, and watched him watch you. “I don’t live with her.” You exhaled on the last part, watching his every move as he scooted a bit closer to you.

“I live with her but I’m not the one she usually smokes with on patrol, sweetheart.” He cocks an eyebrow and smirks as your face falls.

Your high was already beginning to settle in. You drank his words in as you realized that he paid a little more attention to you than you had originally thought. The couch in his living room began to swallow you whole as you began to drift into thought from his statement.

You were a lot younger than Joel. He was in his early fifties and well, you were a little far off from there. You’d just moved to Jackson, stumbling upon it with a group you’d been with, when you decided to stay and they decided not to. You’d made a lot of friends, weirdly enough, his surrogate daughter being one of them. Her and Dina had become like family to you, and you’d been like family to them. You’d become close enough to them that you’d obviously been spending time with Ellie’s makeshift father after your patrols together.

You had to admit, the way that Joel talked, with that Texan accent, absolutely melted you. The way he cared for Ellie, made you absolutely gooey inside. There was so much about him to like, that you couldn’t decide what you didn’t like. Well maybe besides his absolutely shit attitude sometimes but that had really grown on you too.

You knew it was probably a bit weird to be falling for your good friend’s dad, maybe to Ellie, but it had honestly started to happen before you’d even really become friends with her. But you couldn’t think about that right now because well, you were already spacing out and Joel was definitely onto you.

“You alright there?” He waved a large hand in your face as you came back to Earth. You shook your head as you looked back into his brown eyes once more before speaking.

“I’m just peachy, Joel. Just peachy.” You beamed a great big smile, or what you thought was great while he snickered at you. He coughed into his hand to hide his laughter. “What are you laughing at Miller?”

You frowned a little as you grabbed the joint from his hand, taking another few hits before handing it back.

“Ellie was right. You can't handle your weed well.” He shook his head as he peeled off his tan jacket and leaned back into the sofa. You craned your head to the side as you scoffed, dramatically jumping to sit sideways so you could look him in the eye.

As you sat cross-legged next to him, he lifted his eyebrow again and took the joint from your small fingertips. He had to lean a little to get to it, and his hand brushed against yours as he removed the burning flower from your fingers, stubbing it out in the ashtray in front of you both on the coffee table.

The brush of your skin against his sent a burning sensation throughout your body. He seemed to notice it too, never taking his eyes off yours as he grabbed onto your leg and scooted you closer to him. The area on your leg he had just been touching still seared after he removed his hand.

“I may not be able to handle my weed well, Miller, but hey, tryin’ counts for somethin’ right?” You leaned your head against the couch, watching his every move as your knee brushed against his leg.

You let it sit there for a second as he leaned his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He mumbled something under his breath, which you ignored as you closed your eyes. You both sat like that for a few minutes, your highs beginning to take over you both.

You and Joel had recently started to become close as you’d been with Ellie. You started taking over some patrol shifts for her whenever she wanted to spend time with Dina, and she’d taken some for you. She’d also known that you had a slight crush on Joel so she liked to call it a bit of charity that she’d extended. But she’d never tell you that she was moving patrol shifts around on purpose. She liked how you looked at Joel. He deserved someone that was compassionate, caring, and able to stand up to him when need be. You were also incredibly gorgeous so that didn’t hurt.

You’d really started to get a handle on how to talk to Joel, and he had started to learn how to talk to you. He knew, hell, everyone knew that you’d had a crush on him. It wasn’t just Ellie. It didn’t help that your face was totally readable, every emotion that you ever felt splayed across your face, even when you were trying to be discrete.

You came back to Earth a few minutes after you both had leaned your heads into the couch. The weed had been a nice way to relax after a long night of patrol. Joel had the bright idea to come back to his place and take some from Ellie’s stash, claiming that it was okay because he’d given up so many Chef Boyardee cans to her on the road so many years ago, it was the least she could do for her dear old dad.

Of course, you laughed when he said that. Rolling your eyes and blushing at the way he smiled when he talked about Ellie. The way he cared for her light a fire in you that you didn’t know existed. To see how much he’d given for the ones he loved was an attractive quality. Loyalty was important to you, especially in the world you were in now.

Joel patted you on the leg, bringing you back to reality as you lazily picked your head up to look at him.

“You alright there, lightweight?” Joel laughed as he scanned your face, taking in how happy you looked in the moment you were in. Your smile was bright and wide, something he’d grown used to in the past few months.

“’M great.” You went to speak again but a loud crash sent both of your heads whirling towards the direction the noise came from.

Of course. It was the cat Ellie had insisted Joel rescue from the cold Wyoming nights that had the ground blanketed in snow. He’d told her it was a waste of time, the kitten was completely feral but Ellie brought it home anyway, and of course Joel was unable to say no to her.

The bright orange cat mewled as he knocked over yet another small stack of books, looking back towards Joel as if to say, ‘look at what I just did.’

Joel groaned as he watched the cat knock off a small candle, going to get up to scare off the feline.

“Leave him alone. He just wants your attention. He knows you hate him so he just does this to piss you off.” You shrugged, grabbing Joel’s arm and pulling him back onto the couch.

“Y'see, I hate that damn cat. He’s always breakin’ shit and then I'm havin' to clean it up. Should’ve never let Ellie bring him home.” He groaned as he looked over at you, a smile breaking across his face as you both heard another crash from the dining area.

You both cracked up as the cat really began to howl, trying to steal the show and attention, which it seemed he was successful at.

You realized your hand was still on Joel’s arm, and you went to remove it but you decided to leave it there as you spoke. You squeezed his arm as your words spilled out of your mouth. “You let her keep it cause you’re a softie Miller.” His eyes went wide as you continued, the word vomit now unable to stop as your high took over. “But that’s not a bad thing, it’s actually really attractive how much you care for-.”

That’s when he cut you off. His hand flew to your mouth as he leaned over you. His eyebrows were scrunched together again, in his signature stare that he usually wore when he tried to close himself off.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, peach, I’m not a softie.” He leaned back as his skin burned into yours. He finally removed his hand, your mouth still feeling like it was on fire. His scent was assaulting your nostrils from being so close to him. Everything smelled like thick amber and pine.

It seemed that he had chosen to ignore the second thing you’d said, which you were grateful for, considering you had definitely not been thinking when it slipped out.

You snorted as you finally realized what he’d just said. “Okay, sure. If you’re not a softie, then I must really need glasses, my vison must be incredibly foggy.” You laughed as he continued to look irritated.

“You do have foggy vision, sweets. That’s why I do most of the work when we’re on patrol.” He rolled his eyes as he continued, “Hard for you to see what’s out there in plain sight when you’re too busy starin’ at me the whole time.”

With his last sentence, he began to smirk as your eyes grew wide. Well, can’t say you didn’t walk yourself right into that one.

You watched as his brown eyes watched you. It was now a game of who was going to talk first. Was his thick Texan accent going to be the first sound in the room or was it going to be your quiet voice?

Luckily for you, it was the stupid cat again. The reason this whole conversation had taken a turn. He jumped right into your lap and nuzzled into your hand as Joel continued to watch you. You both continued to stare directly into each other’s eyes as the feline called for attention in your lap.

After a few seconds of unrequited feelings on your end, the cat took off, leaving you both sitting there, still staring, neither of you saying a word. The smoke still lightly hung in the air; the lamp next to you illuminating the small space. The air was thick with tension and you decided it was time to speak. It didn’t seem that Joel was going to be the next one to talk as he carefully watched you, his eyebrows reaching the top of his forehead.

Your voice was barely a squeak as you finally spoke. “You mean to tell me you’ve noticed the whole time?” You cringed, breaking eye contact as you looked down at the worn, brown couch. “You really just let me stare at you the whole time and never said or did anything.”

You whistled as you began to get your bearings and deciding maybe it was time to go. The tension in the air was awkward for you and uncomfortable. It was finally noticeable to you now how obvious your small crush had been and well, you were a little embarrassed. That meant he didn’t feel the same way, if he’d known the whole damn time and never done a single thing.

“Well, I guess I should get going, it’s getting kind of late. Not to mention I’m completely embarrassed now.” You went to stand up, not moving your eyes to his when he gripped onto your leg.

“Didn’t ever say anything to you darlin’ 'cause I was a bit worried where it might go if I did.”

With his words, your eyes shot back to his once more. The weed took control, your confidence soaring as you sat back onto the couch. It was now or never and you were going for now.

“Let’s pretend you’re not worried, where would it go?” You grabbed his hand, latching onto that small piece of courage you had and laced your fingers with his. He gripped onto your hand as you set your joined palms in your lap. “I’m curious.”

You watched as he stared down at where your hands were joined, the tension in the air changing to something else, thicker, desire seeping over every pore in your body. Joel’s body language began to mirror yours as his eyes began to fill with something darker, his pupils dilating as he looked back to you.

“It might go a lil’ somethin’ like this.” With that, he leaned forward and crashed his lips to yours, instantly sealing the deal, that your relationship with him would be forever changed. You two would never be able to turn back now. Especially not when you kissed him back and pulled his bottom lip through your teeth, earning a groan from Joel.

He pulled back instantly, a pang of sadness filling you as he did. You already missed the feeling of him on your lips, it was an instant connection you’d never felt with anyone before, and it all happened within a single kiss and a split second.

“’M not sure we should be doin’ this. 'S not a good idea.” He shook his head as he started to stand up, your hand still in his. You refused to let go as you looked at him bewildered. You nodded for him to sit back down and words spilled out of your mouth again.

“You can’t just kiss me like that and then get up to go, telling me it’s a bad idea without even telling me why.” You shook your head as he continued to stand, his hand still in yours, watching your every move. His long-sleeved green flannel looked worn and tight against his arms, a small hole in his bicep now becoming your focal point. The embarrassment overshadows the fleeting confidence you just had.

His face became hard as he removed his hand from yours, placing it in his pocket. Your hand grew cold instantly from the lack of heat, falling into your lap. Sadness sank deep into the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure how the night had gotten turned around like this but you just wanted to go back to how it had started. You wanted to go back to just being a young idiot who pined after a man old enough to be her father. It was simple and easy to do, but now you were stuck somewhere you didn’t know if you’d be able to pull yourself and Joel out of.

“I’m not good enough for you and you’re too young for me.” He turned around, walked over to where the cat had knocked things over, and picked them up. You watched the whole time, waiting for him to continue because surely, he had much better reasons than those.

But the other reasons never came out of his mouth. You watched as Joel began to build his walls up again. The same ones you had worked so incredibly hard to tear down.

You took a deep breath in as you decided you weren’t going to let this be it. You were done pining. You were either going to go home tonight and know that there would never be a chance in hell for you to be any sort of anything with Joel, or you were going to go home tonight knowing that something good was going to come out of this. Something had too.

You stood up and made your way over to where he was leaning against the dining room table.

“I know you’re not old enough to be losin’ your fuckin’ mind, Joel, because those are the lamest excuses I’ve ever fuckin’ heard.” You crossed your arms as you watched his back straighten through the worn flannel. His knees locked in his worn jeans that you loved so much.

“We live in a world where there’s goddamn mushrooms controlling and eating people. I don’t think it matters how old you are in a world like this.” You shook your head as he turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over to you. “I could give less than a single shit if you think you’re good enough for me. If I think you are, why question it? We’re in the fucking apocalypse for Christ's Sake! I don’t think there’s a single person left who is inherently good.”

You let out the long breath you’d been keeping in, not noticing how loud your voice had risen as you waited for him to speak. He had turned around and he was just staring at you now, leaning up against the dining room table, staring you down.  He stood there for a few minutes, contemplating his next move before finally standing up and walking over to you, his tall figure towering over you.

“Good god, you’ve got a mouth on you.” He grabbed your hip with one hand as he tugged you into him. “You done now or are you goin’ t’ yell at me some more, sweetheart?”

You looked up at him, pulling yourself together, and taking a deep breath before speaking. “I think I’m done now.” You linked your arms around his waist as you watched him. You guessed that your tiny little rant had changed his mind. You weren’t going to question it.

“Wise choice, darlin'.’” And with that, he crashed his lips onto yours, taking you completely off guard.

Your lips melded into his as you two began to basically swallow each other whole. You didn’t know where either of you began as he flipped you around to where he was. He walked you backward, still keeping his mouth on yours, biting down on your lower lip as you hit the edge of the dining table behind you.

He lifted you onto the table in one swift motion, earning a grunt from you as your bottom hit the wood beneath you.

You pulled away for a second to say, “Not bad lifting skills for such an ‘old man’.” You giggled as you watched his gaze harden as he looked down at you. He pulled your hips into his, his growing erection visible as it strained beneath his jeans.

“I thought you said you were done talkin’? Do I need to shut you up again?” His fingertips pressed into your hips as his hold on you hardened.

“I think you might hav-“ He cut you off mid-sentence, placing his mouth on yours once more.

He pulled back slightly to say one last thing before his tongue delved back into your mouth.

“We only have so much time before Ellie gets home from hangin’ out with Dina. So do me a favor pretty girl, cut the chit-chat.” He lifted his hand, bringing it to your chin, grabbing it harshly as he angled your head up more. “I still have yet to have my midnight snack. I get real hungry after I smoke.”

You shivered with his words as they left his mouth.

"You sure you wanna do this on your dining table, Joel?" You whispered, the words barely leaving your mouth. They hung like ghosts in the air as you waited for his response.

"Dinin' table is where you're meant to eat, ain't it?" He looked down at you with an eyebrow cocked. His words hung proudly in the air. You both eagerly closed the distance between you two once more, your mouths melding together once again as if they belonged together. You were sure nothing would ever feel like this again, the feeling of his lips on yours.

You grabbed ahold of his shirt and pulled him into you more, leaning back with every pull into him, until your back hit the cool wooden surface of the table. As it did, you groaned, Joel collapsing on top of you.

He leaned back a little, pulling his mouth from yours as he eyed the long sleeve shirt you had on.

“Hope you’re not too attached to this.” He grunted as he grabbed the neck of the fabric. His knuckles rapped along your skin as he tore the material down the middle, opening you wide to his gaze. He reached his hand into the back of the torn fabric and unhooked your bra, ripping the fabric from your body and tossing it behind him into the living room somewhere. You both went wide-eyed as you heard the clasp of your bra hit the lamp, toppling the feeble piece of furniture over.

“Oops.” Was all you managed to get out as you pulled him back to you. His lips went straight to your chest, taking one hardened pink peak into his mouth, sending your head flying back, hitting the hard wood. You didn’t even care about how bad that had hurt as he nipped and sucked. You only cared about how good it felt to have Joel’s mouth on you.

You let out a string of curse words as he pulled your nipple between his teeth, looking up at you. He than began to kiss his way down to your navel, stopping just above your pant line.

He unbuckled your pants, his lips hovering over your stomach. As you helped him shimmy yourself out of your jeans, they fell onto the floor with a smack.

He leaned down, kneeling before you as he ran a finger over your slit through your panties.

“They don’t sell things like this in Jackson, where’d these come from pretty girl?” His accent was thick as he continued running his finger over you through the lacey material of your thong.

“I’d have to kill you if I told you.” You breathed out. He smirked as he tore them down as your words left your mouth. Your slick heat glistened under the only light left in the room, the small lamp that illuminated the dining room.

In all reality, you’d just stolen the pair from an abandoned Victoria’s Secret before you’d arrived in Jackson. You never really wore them but you were glad you’d decided to take a chance tonight.

He whistled as he stared directly into your heat, rocking back on his knees a little. “Look at how ready y'are for me already. Needy little thing.”

You whined, smacking him on the shoulder, barely able to reach. “Joel.” Your breath was incredibly labored as you watched him trace over your slit once more. He traced back down, entering one finger into your pussy.

He watched you as he tunneled his finger in and out of you, curling it to hit your sensitive spot each time, earning moans from you with each stroke.

You were getting louder as he continued to stroke his finger in and out of you, the wet sounds coming from you filling the room along with your moans.

He added a second finger, mumbling a string of curse words to himself. You dared yourself to look down at him and it was the best sight you’d ever seen. He was on his knees directly in front of your aching pussy, staring down at it like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

His fingers that were driving in and out of you were slick and glistening. As soon as he saw you staring down at him, he did something even better than what he was doing at the current moment. He leaned up and attached his mouth directly to your swollen clit and began to take turns sucking and licking.

"'S sweet for me, don't think it gets much better than this." His breath was hot on you, making it impossible to breath, only adding to the pleasure.

You couldn’t think straight, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the table once more, crying out as Joel continued to go to town on you.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna hear you.” Joel whispered into your pussy as his fingers sped up, scissoring in and out of you.

“I’m pretty sure the whole town can fuckin’ hear me Joel, no need to worry.” You whined out, grabbing onto the sides of the table your knuckles turning white.

He continued for another minute, tantalizing your very near and pending orgasm before he abruptly stopped. Of course he stopped right when you couldn’t stop muttering his name. He knew you were close and It didn’t seem as though he was going to let you have it.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined out once more as you started to sit up, but were pushed down with Joel’s hand that wasn’t covered in you.

“Don’t need that bad attitude, sweet girl. Need ya to be loud for me. Want the whole neighborhood to hear what I’m doing to you.” He chuckled as he moved his glistening hand up and moved it to right in front of your mouth. “Now open wide, want you to taste how sweet you are for me.”

His fingers nudged at your mouth, you took them in, swallowing and sucking your residue off of him, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time.

“'S my good girl,” Joel muttered as he continued to watch you.

You swirled your tongue around his fingers one last time tasting your tangy residue and let his fingers go with a pop.

He leaned back and started to unbutton his shirt, beginning to pull it off.

“Oh that’s right Miller, give me a strip tease.” You whopped as he glared at you, stopping what he was doing.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” He huffed as he stared you down.

You giggled as he started to take his clothes off again, shedding the plaid and yanking his pants down. It was truly a sight to see and you were so grateful for the show.  You watched with anticipation, biting your bottom lip as he kicked off his pants and threw them behind him. He stalked over to you before yanking you to him without warning. You hadn’t even really had time to admire how incredibly thick he was. As you slid towards him, your ass hanging off the table as your groin smacked into his.

“You’ve got such a sweet little pussy darlin, can’t imagine how good she’s gonna feel if she tasted that great.” He grunted as you sat up on your elbows to be closer to him.

He leaned back down, taking your mouth in his once more. One of his hands snaked around and grabbed your neck, his hand now your own personal necklace. He squeezed lightly and you moaned into the kiss. He snapped his hips into you when the sound escaped your throat.

His stiff erection was now pressed into your hot, dripping center. The feeling of his thick cock strained against you was sending you into a frenzy. You broke the kiss as you leaned back as much as his hand on your throat would allow.

You looked down at where your hips met and moaned again, the sight was so incredibly hot to you, you didn’t know if you would be able to take it when he finally pushed himself inside of you.

“Admirin’ the view, you filthy little thing?” He moved his free hand to grip his cock, stepping back slightly.

He gripped his length and smacked it against your clit, sending curse words out of your lips and his. He dragged his thick length down your slit and back up again, collecting your juices on his tip. He smacked your clit once more, sending your head snapping back.

It was all too much, the feeling of his hand on your neck, his thick dick hitting your sensitive bud. You knew he wanted you to beg. Hell, the man made you beg for him to do the stupidest shit whenever you were on patrol together. You didn’t know if you should appease him or wait for him to spell it out for you. Luckily you didn’t have to because Joel seemed to be impatient enough this time.

With one final smack and a gasp from both of your lips, he ran his cock down your slit one last time before positioning it at your entrance. He looked from where you two were about to join and into your eyes.

“Y'ready? Y'sure about this? We’ll never be able to go back to how it was after this darlin’.” He huffed out as he waited for your answer. "Gonna have t'have this pussy every time we're on patrol now."

“’M sure, Joel. I’ve been waitin’ for this for a while. Need your thick cock, baby.” You whined once more as he started to push himself in.

“Oh god, don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hear somethin’ more darlin.'” And with that he pushed himself completely in, bottoming out inside of you. “Good lord, you are something else. So fuckin’ tight.” He gritted through his teeth as he pushed out and back into you.

You both watched where the two of you were joined, enjoying the view as he continued to pump himself in and out of you at a slow speed. It was so incredibly hot to you. His thick length tunneling in and out of you, looking like it belonged there. It stretched you out completely, filling you in a way you didn’t know was possible. You were pretty sure you could die happy right now with Joel Miller’s cock stuffing you full.

“Holy fuck Joel. You’re so big.” With that you looked back up at him, your eyes completely wide as he continued to watch himself. You watched as he brought one of his hands around and grabbed your right leg and hoisted it over his shoulder.

He hit a completely new spot with this position, getting a deeper and better spot with each thrust.

"And you're so incredibly tight, can't believe I waited this long t'have you."

He brought his other hand around to your front, his calloused thumb ghosting over your clit. His rough pad began to rub small circles, causing your head to snap back once more.

You kept yourself balanced on your elbows and brought your head back up, looking at him as he looked up at you.

“Ain’t nothin’ ever felt this good before wrapped around me darlin’.” He grunted, whistling immediately after as he continued to stare you down. “’M hooked on you now, pretty girl.”

You let yourself fall backward as he leaned forward, keeping a finger on your clit, still rubbing small circles, driving you absolutely mad. His lips ghosted over yours and he held himself there. His eyes screwed shut as his rhythm began to pick up.

“Holy shit Joel, don’t know how much more I can take.” You managed to squeak out.

“Is my cock too much for ya? That’s too damn bad, I’m never givin’ her up now. Gonna make her mine, make her full of me.” His breath was hot on your mouth.

You cried out as he continued to hit the most sensitive spot in your cut, you were getting so close, especially with his finger on your clit.

"Look at how drunk you're gettin' on my cock, takin' it so well for me."

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You began to grow louder with each thrust until you suddenly burst, stars and blackness clouding your vision. You started to collapse and fall backward but Joel moved a hand from your leg and placed it behind you, steadying you.

“Mmm, couldn’t wait for me could ya?” He sent a smack down to your clit, removing his fingers. You were still convulsing with aftershocks so the smack to your sensitive only added to the experience, making the stars in your vision explode.

His groans began to grow louder as he got closer to his release. His pace sloppier as his cock started to twitch inside of you.

Suddenly, he started to explode inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum. He pulled out just as it started and started to cum all over the outside of your pussy, he drug some up to your stomach as he rested his length there for just a second.

You were finally starting to come back to life when you noticed how incredibly sticky you were about to be.

You swopped your pointer finger down to the small little pile of cum that had collected right underneath your belly button and ran your finger through it, collecting it pad of your finger. You brought that finger to your mouth and sucked the sticky sweet residue off as he watched. His eyes grew wide and his eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead.

“You tasted me, Miller. It was only fair I get to do the same. I’ve gotta say, we taste so good together.” You moaned out the last part, watching as his pupils dilate with your words.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Gotta give an old man a second to recover before you say shit like that.” He looked away from you as he whistled out, grabbing his boxers off the floor, bringing them up to you, and cleaning you off.

You let him swipe the thin cotton material over your sensitive parts, breathing out as your swollen pussy was taken care of by him. As soon as you were cleaned up, Joel motioned for you to come closer to where he was, getting up off the table. You obeyed and walked over to where he was standing. Your legs were weak and wobbly, which Joel took notice of.

“Care for some help there darlin'?” He said, looking down at you. You just nodded as you held your arms up. You two seemed to understand each other because he swooped you up off your feet and carried you up the stairs, stopping in front of his door when you heard the door below you slam. You were naked, curled up in Joel’s arms as he held you and his boxer briefs, which he’d used to clean you up.

As the door slammed, Joel pushed into his room, tossing his briefs somewhere before shutting the door behind him. You were tired from the long shift of patrol and your vigorous nighttime activity so you were beginning to fall asleep in Joel’s arms. You couldn’t even seem to care that your clothes were strewn apart on the living room floor downstairs, giving whoever had just walked in a hint as to what the previous activities had just been.

He laid you down on his bed and tucked you in under the covers. The soft cotton and smell of Joel overtook you fast. You heard a whistle coming from outside the door, as Joel tugged on his sweatpants. His bedroom door opened as he left the room. All you could hear was Ellie giving Joel shit and him rushing down the stairs to gather all of the articles of clothing you two had left strewn about. You tried to keep your eyes open but with the high still lingering in your head and your body completely worn out, it was pretty impossible. You waited for a second as you heard his feet pound up the stairs. The door opened and a pile of clothes fell onto the floor in front of the door, Joel coming in and closing it behind him.

You watched with hooded eyes as he climbed into bed from the other side. He pulled you into him, resting your head on his chest.

“I had fun tonight.” You managed to say before closing your eyes. You took in his scent once more and the feel of his chest against your cheek before you began to drift off into sleep. Joel said something back to you but you were unable to hear it as you drifted off, grateful for weed and grateful for dining room tables.

[kdogreads]

The Last to Know

Chibs Telford x f!reader

Part 2 of Very Soon, a continuation of the Chibs x reader origin story💕

Warnings: S M U T minors buzz off, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol, choking, slight dom/sub (but only a little), size kink, praise kink

Check out my masterlist for more Chibby content and follow #kdogreads to keep up with my self-indulgence 😉

It had been a few months since you first kissed Filip Telford and your life had flipped itself upside down in that time. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but in a way that changed the way you spent every moment of your time.

Your life started dividing itself as before Chibs and after Chibs, like the damn second coming of Christ. After a 12-hour shift on your feet at St. Thomas, before Chibs, you’d go home and crash, sometimes not even making it your bed and sleeping on the couch for the night. After Chibs, though, you’d head straight over to the clubhouse, a change of clothes already there waiting for you, and a wave of energy somehow surging through your veins at the anticipation of seeing your man.

Tonight was one of those nights, fresh off an 11a to 11p shift and straight to the clubhouse. As you pulled into TM the sounds of a raging party filled your ears and you could see groups people standing around smoking, drinking, and dancing.

You made your way into the sea of leather, smiling and nodding at those who recognized you. It was Tig who greeted you first.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” He gave you a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek, his breath smelled of cheap whiskey and weed, but it brought a smile to your face.

“Ready to party, Tiggy,” You wiggled your eyebrows at him, and he laughed his signature goofy laugh before pointing back towards the dorms where Chibs must have been waiting for you. You leaned in to peck him back on the cheek before heading that way.

Making your way to the dorm you’d spent many nights in, you passed Clay, Piney, Bobby, Gemma and several of the other guys who gave you smiles and wolf whistles. You did a silly little spin for them and were met with cheers and encouragements to “Give it to him!” Laughs echoed through the room as you rounded the corner to find your man.

Turning the knob and entering the dimly lit room, your eyes stumbled onto Filip seated at the small desk inside rolling a joint.

“Party’s out there, handsome,” You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Aye, but I’ve been waitin’ for my date ‘fore I make an appearance,” He joked and kissed your hands.

“I’m sorry, baby, last minute code kept me over,” You plead with a fake pout on your face.

“Ah, lass, I couldna be mad at you if I tried,” He turned in your arms to give you a long, sweet kiss.

You hummed in response, your lips melting happily into his for a long moment before pulling away to change out of your work clothes. Filip turned back to continue rolling a second joint, lighting one up after admiring his work.

It was only once you’d stripped down to just your bra and panties that Filip stood up and stepped towards you, bringing the burning joint to your lips. You took a long drag and felt only a slight sting. Filip always brought the good stuff out for you.

He took one step further into your space, reaching over your shoulder to stub the joint out on the dresser behind you and letting his rough hands glide down your bare skin. You shivered as he gripped one of your hips tightly and drew absent-minded circles on your lower back with the other. His lips danced from a sweet kiss on your forehead, your nose, your cheek before landing on your neck. God, the things he could do to you with such little effort.

“Baby,” You whine as best as you can, trying not to get lost in his kisses, “I’m sweaty and gross. Let me shower.”

Your words did little to slow him down as his free hand worked it’s way over the curve of your ass and squeezed hard. His thick fingers close enough to your aching heat to make a gasp escape your lips.

You tried whining his name this time, still feeling self-conscious about your post-work condition.

“I,” kiss, “dinna,” kiss, “care,” kiss, “lass,” kiss.

The way he punctuated each word with a wet, sloppy kiss to your neck and chest pushed every ounce of embarrassment out of your mind. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful lips as he made his way down your body, pausing only once he landed at the very top hem of your panties. He looked up at you once more for permission. You nodded and gripped his shoulder to keep from tumbling over as he jerked the lacy fabric down your legs all the way to your feet.

Filip couldn’t hold himself back once he was face-to-face with your glistening folds. A groan tumbled out of his chest as he threw one of your legs over his shoulder and nearly dove into you. Your back hit the dresser behind you with a thud and knocked a few things down onto the ground with a crash.

Neither of you could have been pulled out of this desire-fueled trance for anything. Anything.

Filip’s skilled tongue worked it’s way through your folds and over your pulsing clit. You cried out when he flicked his hot tongue over the bundle of nerves just right and sent your thighs squeezing together.

With a grunt he yanked them apart again and slapped one thigh sharply. A warning not to do that again.

You felt the familiar pressure building deep in your belly right as Filip slid a thick finger into your weeping hole, curling it just the way you needed. It was only a few more flicks of his tongue until you fell apart. A broken string of curse words falling from your lips as the white hotness of the intense orgasm washed over you. He worked you through your high — not stopping until you a trembling mess, panting and clawing at his hair to drag his face back up to yours.

He stood up, holding tightly onto your reeling body, and met your gaze. A devilish smirk spread across his glistening lips as he reached down to grab your shaking thighs and pick you up.

Your eyes fell shut as he laid you gently onto the dark cotton sheets of his bed. You felt him pull back swiftly to pull his shirt over his head and step out of his straining jeans.

“My poor girl,” He cooed in that quiet tone you’d come to love, “Fucked dumb already, hm?”

Your eyes snapped open at his teasing and you were met with a dark look of lust in his eyes. It only spurred you on and sent a new wave of heat straight down to your core.

“Not even close, Telford,” You spat back, quickly sliding a hand between you and grasping his hard cock in a firm hold.

“Aye, ah,” You began stroking him though his boxers, a grunt escaping his lips as he tried to keep his composure, “I see not, lass.”

He leaned in close to kiss you and you took your shot, yanking Filip’s body down beside you, allowing you the room to climb on top of him and straddle his aching cock.

An amused grin spread across his face as you leaned in to leave wet kisses on his neck and chest, lewd noises spilling from his lips all the while. You slowly made your way down his body, kisses turning into love bites here and there.

He lifted his hips slightly to begin to tug his boxers off when an idea popped into your head and out of your mouth before you had the chance to second guess it.

One of your hands gripped his wrist while the other wrapped around Filip’s throat, your slender fingers doing their best to squeeze even a little bit.

“I’ll see to that, love,” You purred into his ear, an excited mumble tumbling out of his mouth. He grinned at you a moment longer, this new side of you driving him wild.

You used all your effort to give his wrist and his neck an extra squeeze, showing him you meant business.

“Yes ma’am,” He growls, his free hand coming up in surrender. You loosened your grip on him and sat up straight, his hard cock pressing deliciously into your aching core.

You reached around your back to unhook your black lacy bra and slide it off, Filip’s mouth opening at the sight your taut nipples. He reached up to take of your mesmerizing peaks into his grasp, but you smacked his hand away, not yet done with your little game.

A sharp, “uh-uh” came from your lips and Filip groaned in frustration, but slides his hands away like you said.

Using your teeth for the first few inches, you peeled his black boxers down his thighs, slowly at first. His throbbing cock sprung free, the swollen tip already leaking an inviting drop of precum. The sight made your mouth water and you decided to stop the teasing.

You yanked them the rest of the way down and discarded them on the floor with your clothes. You wasted no time licking a long stripe down Filip’s cock then taking his head between your lips.

A deep grown rumbled out of his chest as you wrapped your lips around him and took as much as you could into your mouth, your hand making up for what your throat couldn’t reach.

Before long, Filip tangled his fingers into your hair and guided your movements, his willpower no longer strong enough to keep his hands off you. Your head bobbed up and down at a leisurely pace, Filip’s cock gagging you when he pushed your head all the way down. He relaxed his grip and you released his head with a pop before licking your lips and smiling up at him.

He furrowed his brow slightly before his hand swung from your hair down to your neck, pulling you up by the throat to his face.

You whined as he took your lips in his, sucking your bottom lip out in your favorite way. You felt his swollen tip swirling around your dripping hole.

“You had your fun, kitten,” He growled into your lips, his head sliding into your center, “Now I’ll have mine.”

You gasped as he sank all the way into your tight hole, he held you there a moment before he pulled back out and slammed into you again.

Your mind spun as he plowed into you over and over, one hand on your hip lifting your tired body up, the other sliding down from your throat and straight to a hard nipple that he rolled between his fingers.

The familiar pressure built deep in your tummy as Filip held your hips firmly against his and worked your core forwards and back. The friction against your clit and the way his cock felt nudging against the deepest parts of your velvety walls drew your release closer and closer.

“So, fuck, so fuckin’ big, Filip,” You panted nonsensically, a mind-fogging pleasure taking over your senses, “Please—please, baby, don’t stop, ah!”

A slew of groans that sounded almost pained spilled from Filip’s mouth as your release flooded through your veins. You fell into his strong arms as he kept pounding into you, your core fluttering around his throbbing cock. Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head as Filip growled into your ear, prolonging your rolling pleasure.

“Tha’s it, pretty girl. Cummin’ all over my cock like a filthy whore,” His accent grew even stronger as he tried desperately to hold back his own release, still rutting his hips into yours as pleasant aftershocks coursed through your body, “My good lass, takin’ what I give ye.”

You had barely a moment to recover before Filip was flipping you over and throwing one your legs over his shoulder, sliding his aching cock back into your dripping hole.

Not yet satisfied, even with your blissed-out face contorting in over-sensitive and mind-numbing pleasure, Filip reached down to the place where your bodies connected and brushed this thumb roughly against your clit.

A sharp hiss escaped your parted lips, “F-Filip I ca-n’t, s’too much.”

“Shh, lass, jus’ one more,” He continued the bruising pace of his cock sliding in and out of you, fingers circling quickly over your throbbing clit, “Let me fuckin’ feel you one more time.”

It hit you like a fucking train out of nowhere, a muffled scream fell from your lips as the all-consuming pleasure invaded your senses. Your thighs shook against Filip’s hips as your fingers clawed at his broad chest, desperate for something to ground you.

Filip’s head fell back, his lips parted as his own release rushed through his body. Hot ropes of his cum flooded your pulsing walls as he slurred out a string of curses and praises.

“Fuckin’ love this tight fucking pussy; my good lass, fuck-fuckin’ gorgeous when ye cum on m’cock like tha’.”

Your eyes met as you both started coming down from the high. You reached for Filip’s face and pulled him down to kiss you, hissing into his mouth as he pulled out of you slowly and placed two fingers on your tired pussy, anxiously wanting to feel his seed weeping out of you.

You gasped at the contact and bucked your hips into his thick fingers. He huffed a laugh onto your connected lips and withdrew his wet fingers from you, bringing them up to your lips and pressing softly into your mouth.

Both of you laughed lowly as he rolled off of you and pulled you into his still-pounding chest. He kissed your forehead as you snuggled into his embrace.

“We’re awfully good at tha’, huh lass?” A soft laugh rumbling from his chest.

You laughed sweetly as looked up at him, “Yeah, yes we are.”

It was a brief moment of peace, wrapped up in each other’s arms and post-sex bliss before a pounding fist at the door interrupted your rest.

“Chibby! Dove! Wrap it up. Need ya’s out here,” A booming voice followed the knock. You couldn’t make out who it was but, based on the angry Gaelic phrase Filip spat back, he must have known right away.

“Boys got into it, bleedin’ all about the place,” The voice boomed back and Filip let out a groan.

The knock returned briefly before Filip was shouting back, “Christ, two minutes for me to put my cock away!”

You let out a chuckle as the the floor squeaked outside, granting you the moment you needed to put yourselves back together.

“Always something, hm?” You quipped as Filip stood and gathered his clothes before tossing you some shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“Aye, always somethin’ to shite on our day,” He groaned and brushed his fingers through his hair.

You took a moment to stretch while Filip already had his hand on the door knob, ready to handle whatever was awaiting him outside. Before he could open it, a thought popped into your mind.

“Filip?” You sat up a bit, “Am I your old lady?”

He laughed lovingly before stepping back over to your side.

“Seems yer the last to know, love,” He smiled and placed a tender kiss to your lips before turning back towards the door and heading out into the madness.

Oh boy, you are in trouble.

[handmade-witch]

Is it over now...? Part 1

Pairing: Toxic!Mattheo x fem!Reader

Hogwarts University!AU

Warnings: cheating/toxic relationships, gaslighting kinda?, suggestive content, cursing, substance use (alcohol and marijuana) [if I missed any please lmk]

[[AN: hello dear readers! This is going to be my first attempt at doing a multi-part series. Feedback is so very appreciated!! I would love to hear what people think! 💜]]

 🎶 Once the flight had flown

 With the wilt of the rose 🎶

      Your head pounded. From the alcohol or the loud music, you weren't sure, but it felt as if both were coursing in your veins. House parties were, like every other event at the school, viewed as a competition. Each weekend, one house tried to outdo the previous. For most students, it was less about the competition, but more an excuse to get wasted with your friends. Which is how you found yourself in the Gryffindor club house that night: drunk, sweaty, and packed claustrophobically close with other bodies on a makeshift dancing floor.

      Social inhibitions long gone, you stood in a circle with several of your female friends, seductively moving your body to the beat of the music. You playfully wrapped your arm around your best friend Pansy as the two of you shouted the lyrics to the song booming through the speakers. You go to take another sip from your plastic cup, only to find it empty. So you detach yourself from the group, pushing through moving bodies in search of more. 

      Finding a table littered with half-empty liquor bottles, you pour yourself a drink. Taking a sip, a thought enters your head: 'Where's Mattheo?' You had last seen your boyfriend before Pansy had dragged you to dance, but you had no idea how long ago that had been. Instead of returning to the dancefloor, you set off to look for him, weaving through crowds of drunk bodies as you went.

      You spotted Theodore and Lorenzo and were easily distracted from your original mission. Lorenzo waved you over to the folding table where cups were arranged in a game of beer pong. "Come play with us [Y/N]!" He grins at you. 

      You size up your competition. From the obnoxious red and yellow colored varsity jacket one wore, you made the astute observation that the other boys were Gryffindors. Theo pressed the ping pong ball into your hand. "C'mon [Y/L/N], show us what you got." 

       You focused on the red plastic cups in front of you, trying to make your vision stop spinning. You aim, releasing the ball from your grip. It bounces against the rim of a cup and off the table. You burst into a fit of giggles. Theo's hand claps your shoulder. "Nice try." He says with a small snort. 

       The memory of your original task floated back into your hazy consciousness. "Have you guys seen Matt?" 

      Theodore shrugs in response, and Lorenzo shakes his head.

      "See you guys later."

      Thoroughly searching the bottom floor of the house, you climb the stairs to the upper level. Maybe he had found some people to smoke with up there; you thought, away from the loud music and crowds. The upper floor looked very similar to the downstairs, except instead of loud music and dancing, these people lounged on couches. A layer of smoke hung in the air, making the room seem hazy. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for the familiar mop of dark brown curls. 

      It was the sight in front of you- not the amount of alcohol you had consumed- that made you sick to your stomach. Mattheo stood leaning over a girl you didn't recognize. He had one hand braced on the wall above her head, and the other rested on her exposed outer thigh. His lips were connected with hers.

     You felt your blood boil as you stalked across the room. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you yanked him backward with all your strength, causing him to stumble. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You demand. 

     Mattheo eyes widen when they register you standing in front of him. "[Y/N]? Shit.." His eyes darted back and forth between you and the girl still standing against the wall. She crossed her arms, a look of confusion and annoyance apparent in her features.

     You turn on her, eyes narrowing as you cross your own arms. "Get lost," you growl. She rolls her eyes at you but walks off, leaving you with Mattheo. Not caring that the two of you were not the only people in the room, you shouted at him. "What the fuck, Mattheo?" 

     Mattheo frowns, his eyebrows drawing together. "Baby, it's not what it looks like." He says. 

     "Oh, so you weren't just sucking face with some other girl?" Your fists clenched at your sides as you resisted the urge to punch him. 

     He reaches for you. "[Y/N] you're drunk." He says it simply as if that explained your anger. "Let me take you home, and we can talk about this tomorrow." He tries to grab your hand, but you yank it from his grasp. 

     "I'm not going anywhere with you asshole." You slur, turning on your feet to head towards the stairs.

     "[Y/N] wait.." He follows after you. 

    You're down the stairs, pushing through bodies with Mattheo trailing behind you. Outside on the front porch of the house, the night air cools the angry fire that's heating you from the inside out. 

     Fingers enclose around your wrist, pulling you back. "I said wait [Y/N]." He pulls you towards him, until you're so closed that you have no choice but to look at him. His voice turns quickly from gruff to soothing. "This isn't what it looks like. Just please, let me explain." 

     You struggle in his grip, unable to break his hold in your current state. "Leave me alone, Matt. Let me go." You try to pry his fingers off of your wrist. 

     "Let her go, Matt." The voice comes from back towards the house, and you see Theo appear over Matt's shoulder. His hand claps Mattheo's shoulder, but it's harsher now than when he had done it to you earlier at the beer pong table.

      "She's drunk. I need to take her home." Mattheo growls, throwing a look over his shoulder at Theo. Theo didn't flinch, digging his fingers into Matt's shoulder.

      "Let go of her." Theo's demeanor was strangely calm, but the way he punctuated each word revealed how serious he was. 

      You vaguely registered Mattheo releasing your wrist from his grasp. You shoot Theo a look that you hope expresses gratitude before turning and stumbling down the steps of the house. The two boys watch from the porch as you walk off into the night. Mattheo shrugs off Theo's hand and pulls a cigarette from his pocket. Theo watches him with a steely glare as he lights it and brings it to his lips. 

     It only takes a few minutes for you to walk back to your dorm. You have no idea what time it was, but you knew it was late as you entered your room and collapsed onto your bed. Only then did your emotions seem to hit you like a ton of bricks, and tears started flowing down your cheeks. 'How dare he?' You thought bitterly. You rubbed your eye, trying to wipe away the tears but likely only succeeding in smudging your makeup. Your head felt heavy and pressed deeper into your pillow. You tried to take a deep breath, but Mattheo's smell surrounded you. It was woven into the fabric of your sheets from the nights he spent next to you. Usually, it was a comfort, but now it made bile rise in your throat. You felt small and alone as you curled into the covers, and your drunken haze lulled you to sleep. 

🎶 I slept all alone

 You still wouldn't go 🎶

     The sunlight streams through your window, signaling it was time to get up, but the raging headache you had desperately tried to coax you back to sleep. You blindly searched the nightstand for your phone. 3 Missed Calls from Mattheo, your screen read. You rolled your eyes and opened a text from Pansy:

     💬: 'Qhere did u gp?'

     💬: 'Dud u leabe?'

     💬: 'Hwllo?'

     💬: 'R u ok?'

     💬: 'Theo said u ent hme. Wake mr ip 4 breskfasy.'

     With an immense amount of effort, you dragged yourself out of bed and into the bathroom. The figure looking back at you from the mirror resembled a depressed raccoon. Make-up smeared around your eye and mascara running down your cheeks. You washed your face and brushed your teeth, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach about the night before. You knew you would have to confront Mattheo about it at some point. But right now, you just wanted to survive your wicked hangover.

     When you open your door to head to Pansy's room, you almost trip over the sleeping figure lying in the hallway. 

     "Mattheo, what the fuck are you doing out here?" You ask incredulously. You placed your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

     At the sound of your voice, Mattheo awoke with a start. "[Y/N]?" he mumbled, voice clouded by sleep and his own hangover. 

     "I'm not doing this right now." You grumbled, holding your hands in front of yourself defensively.

     Reaching for your hand, Mattheo sat up. You jerked your arm away, crossing them over your chest. "Please, sweetheart, just.. just hear me out." He looked up at you with those brown eyes that made your stomach do backflips. You averted your gaze, knowing that looking into his eyes made you weak-- vulnerable-- to his every whim. "We were all drunk, okay? And she... she came out of nowhere and kissed me." 

     "That's not what it looked like from where I was standing." You furrowed your eyebrow, glaring at him. The memory of last night was fuzzy and muddled, but the picture of Mattheo kissing someone else was burned into your mind.

     He got to his feet, trying to reach for you and take you in his arms. "You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt you baby." The way his eyes softened and the pleading tone of his voice made your heart ache and your knees feel weak. "You're the only girl for me."

     And when Mattheo wrapped his arms around you, you thought that if he hadn't, you might have collapsed. He bent his head, using his finger to tilt your chin up towards him. His lips were only inches from your own. "It was a mistake," he whispered, "please forgive me." And with a passionate kiss, he sealed your forgiveness of him. 

    Mattheo pulled you flush against him. His hands trailed down your back, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth moves against yours. You gasp as he grips the back of your thighs, lifting you up. Your legs automatically wrap around his waist, and his tongue delves into your mouth. The anger that you felt in your gut morphed into hot, burning desire as he kissed you. He steps further into your dorm room. When his knees hit the edge of your bed, he drops you onto the mattress. Its just second before he's on you again, lips moving from yours across your jaw and down your throat.  

      His hands are all over your body, lighting your skin ablaze with their touch. The trail down your sides, coming to rest at your hips, where his fingers danced against the waistband of your pants. He was captivating, addictive, and now you were beneath him like a junkie searching for his next high. He sucks and bites at the sweet spot on your throat, causing you to let out a moan. His breath is hot against your skin as he whispers,

      "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Read Part 2 here

[2dmenforme]

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(Keisuke Baji x female reader) Mature Content, 18+

Tags: porn with a plot, marijuana use, mentions of alcohol consumption, oral sex (male & female receiving), smut, fluff, Baji has a big dick, breast worship, slightly shy & awkward reader (she can get it though!), Baji w/tongue piercing, pet names (mostly ‘baby’), penis in vagina sex, unprotected sex, Baji is a big simp for the reader, very fluffy ending, Baji and reader are over 18

Synopsis: You recently became friends with Keisuke Baji. You're co-workers at a pet shop and UTokyo students. Now you’re finally alone with Baji for the first time at his place. Your plan is to get high and seduce him. But you're more nervous than you thought. Baji is hot - like so hot.

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: originally posted as a 3 part series on my deactivated tumblr (username Bajiisofine). This is the full version in its entirety, slightly edited.

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It’s the first day of winter break for UTokyo students. To celebrate, Keisuke Baji invited you over to the apartment he shares with his friends and co-workers, Kazutora and Chifuyu. A few weeks ago you began working part-time at Pet Shop Palme, which is how you met the trio.

You had quickly grown accustomed to the four of you going back to their apartment after work to unwind with a few beers or to smoke a bowl. However, today is the first time you've been completely alone with Baji at his place — his roommates are both out of town with their girlfriends.

You and Keisuke are sitting crossed-legged on his bedroom floor, leaning against the wall opposite his unmade bed. A large overflowing ashtray sits between you. His walls are covered in karate tournament flyers and motorcycle posters. A punk playlist plays at a low volume, providing background noise.

"There's like maybe one hit left."

Straightening out his legs, Baji gently taps your bare foot with his pinkie toe to get your attention. You’re trying not to stare at the skin peeking through the rips in his black jeans.

His honey-brown eyes are red and glassy from the weed. After taking his last hit from the pipe he passes it to you. Grasping it, you brush your fingers across his thumb ring. An electric spark jolts through you. You notice the bowl is mostly gray ash at this point but attempt to light it anyway.

“Ugh! That was gross!" You laugh, coughing as you exhale, dumping the remnants into the ashtray between you.

“I warned you,” he chuckles at the face you’re making. “So, whatcha wanna do tonight?" Baji leans his head back against the wall and raises his eyebrows expectantly. Turning to face him, you’re mesmerized by his ink-black hair cascading in soft waves down to his shoulders. Suddenly you feel very shy and break eye contact.

"Um, well… Emma texted me earlier. She said she was able to convince Mikey and Ken to agree to go to karaoke tonight," you giggle, looking down at your chipped nail polish. You met Emma and her best friend Hina at the beginning of the semester and became fast friends. Emma was the one who told you about the job opening at the pet store.

"Pfft," Keisuke laughs, "I would definitely pay good money to see that." He pushes the ashtray away and repositions himself. Before you can raise your head to look at him, he lays his head in your lap, his long hair spilling over your thighs.

Keisuke grins, his sharp canine teeth graze his bottom lip as he reaches up to trace his knuckles along your jawline. His smile widens when your eyes meet. “Hey, pretty,” his deep voice is barely above a whisper.

You freeze, suddenly aware that your heart is beating too loudly. So loud in fact, that he must be able to hear it.

"Baji, I have to pee!" You push yourself up off the floor, trying to hide the fact that you're trembling. His head hits the ground with a hard thud.

"Ow!” Keisuke grimaces, laughing and rubbing his head.

"I'll be right back!" Rushing to his bathroom, you lock the door and look at your reflection. "Shit!"

Your innocent workplace crush on Baji has intensified over the past three weeks you've known him. Normally getting high relaxes you — that was the plan for today: smoke with Keisuke and make your move. But for some reason, his sudden flirting made you feel self-conscious and nervous.

Turning on the faucet, you splash cold water on your face and try to calm down. Glancing in the mirror, you're grateful for your waterproof mascara. After patting your face dry and trying to salvage what you can of your makeup, you text Emma and Hina in group chat to tell them what a fool you just made of yourself. Realizing you've now been in Keisuke's bathroom for over 20 minutes you sigh and flush the toilet.

"Hey! I thought you fell in!" Baji shoots you his toothy smile from a reclined position on his bed. His wavy dark hair pools over the white pillowcases like an oil spill. His sheets are surprisingly clean.

In fact, because of your nerves, that's the first thing that comes out of your mouth. "Your sheets are so clean!"

Keisuke rolls his eyes, "Thanks. I do laundry — sometimes." He laughs and extends his left arm out, making a come here motion with his hand. His silver rings catch your eye. Baji’s hands are beautiful: large and veiny with long slender fingers.

He notices you staring at his hand, “What? It's clean, stop judging me!” Keisuke feigns being offended and sticks out his tongue at you. The ball of his silver tongue ring glints in the low lighting from his bedside lamp.

You laugh and climb onto the bed next to him. But not before managing to bump your shin hard on his bed frame.

"Fuck!" You reach down instinctively and rub your shin.

"Hey, c’mere," he chuckles as he sits up to massage your leg.

"Keisuke,” you sigh. "I-I like you." You look sheepishly up into his eyes, noticing that the pupils in his amber irises have widened.

Keisuke bites his lower lip, the tips of his pointy canines peeking out. He swears no one has ever looked at him quite like the way you did just now.

Not breaking eye contact, he lays back down and pulls you towards him. “I like you too.” The sultry tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine.

Hesitating briefly, you kiss him. Tentatively, at first, shy with your affection. Baji pursues the kiss further, massaging your tongue with his. You can just barely feel his piercing, his tongue is gentle, sensual. Feeling bolder, you lick his upper lip with the tip of your tongue. He moans, teasingly biting your lower lip.

“I want you," Keisuke whispers as he moves away from your mouth to nip and kiss your jawline down your neck.

A delicious warmth spreads through your core as your body responds to his. Your skin tingles where he touches you. Reaching down between his legs, you caress the growing bulge straining against his jeans. Baji moans, reflexively thrusting his pelvis against your hand.

"I want you too," you’re practically purring. Lifting his black and gray striped shirt with one hand, you kiss his toned chest and stomach. Your other hand remains pressed against his cock, firmly stroking his erection.

You kiss your way down his happy trail, nibbling and licking it playfully. Glancing up at Keisuke, you see his eyes are closed, his head back against his pillow, clearly enjoying your attention. His blissful expression gives you the confidence to unzip his pants. Baji opens his eyes and quickly helps you pull down his pants and boxer briefs.

You move your head down to his cock, he’s huge and hard and so ready. His dick twitches with yearning, clear drops of precum beading down its engorged head.

"Hey," Keisuke's voice is thick with lust. He clears his throat and looks at you, reaching down to gently stroke your cheek, "you don't have to do anything you don't wanna.”

"I wanna," you murmur, wantonly gazing up into his eyes. You’re nearly drooling, you just want his fat dick in your mouth now.

"Thank god," Keisuke mumbles, throwing his head back, a moan escaping his lips as you grasp his long girthy cock.

Teasingly, you lick away the precum that has begun to drip down his shaft. You drag your tongue down to his balls and up again to just below the tip, coating his shaft with warm saliva.

You repeat this motion, making sure his cock is nice and wet; your mouth's lubrication pooling around the base of his balls. Finally, you reach the head and swirl your tongue over his tip. Baji moans and grabs the back of your head with one hand while bunching up his sheets with the other. He continues to rake his fingers through your hair as you take him as far as you can into your mouth, wrapping your lips around him. He’s too big to take entirely into your mouth so you grip the base of his cock with both hands.

Creating suction with your cheeks, you gently hum as you continue to swirl your tongue over the head of his cock and back down, running your tongue along the thick protruding vein on the underside of his shaft.

You begin bobbing your head up and down while simultaneously pumping the base with both hands dripping with your saliva. Baji thrusts his hips up, groaning as he pushes himself further into your warm wet mouth. A low guttural sound escapes his lips. He opens his eyes, “B-baby... uff... I-I’m gonna cum.”

You look up, your lips still wrapped around his thick shaft as far as they will go, and nod, signaling him to cum in your mouth. Baji moans your name as he ejaculates, you continue sucking and pumping until he’s left shuddering and jerking beneath you. After swallowing his load, you sweetly smile up at him, and gently kiss the tip of his sensitive cock.

"Damn… you’re amazing,” Keisuke gazes at you with starry-eyed affection for several seconds before sitting up and pulling you into his lap. He kisses you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue.

“It’s your turn now, pretty baby,” Keisuke chuckles as he pushes you playfully back onto his bed.

Baji stretches to hand you a bottle of water from his bedside table. His black and gray striped t-shirt raised halfway above his toned abdomen. He smiles down at you — his amber bedroom eyes and sharp canines giving him a distinctly predatory air. Not breaking eye contact, he pulls a hair tie off his wrist and holds it between his teeth, gathering his wavy black hair in a ponytail.

“I like to tie my hair back… before I eat,” Baji winks, sticking his tongue out suggestively, the silver ball of his tongue piercing protruding forward on its bar.

You snort-laugh, nearly choking on your water, even though he’s making your heart pound — no longer from nervousness but desire. Your body tingles, yearning to feel the sensation of that tongue, his hot breath between your legs.

“Ohh — you laugh,” his tone is light, teasing. He leans over to tickle you, burying his face in the curve of your neck. “But, I know you’ll like it,” Keisuke whispers in his smooth baritone, tugging at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Lemme taste you,” Baji licks the sweet spot just beneath your ear, coaxing a moan out of you. “Hmm… pretty baby?”

“Yess, Keisuke…,” your voice hitches in your throat, a surge of heat flooding through you, culminating between your thighs. You grab at his shirt, tugging it over his head.

“You’re the one whose clothes are in the way,” Baji mumbles. Hungrily eyeing your body, he runs his silver-ringed fingers over the swell of your breasts and down your torso. Curling his fingers under the hem of your shirt, he caresses your bare skin with his knuckles as he pulls it over your head. Tossing your shirt aside, Keisuke wraps his large hands around your rib cage, lifting you further back onto his bed so your head rests on his pillows.

You hold your arms out, inviting him in. Smiling up at him, your expression somehow both innocent and full of desire. Swooning at your eagerness he bends to kiss you — deeply, wantonly, moaning into your mouth as you palm his hardening cock.

“Wait — wait, baby… let’s get you naked.” Baji stands, his already huge erection bobbing in your face as he helps you pull off your leggings. He pauses to admire you in your bra and panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he purrs. Watching you undo your bra, he groans appreciatively as your breasts bounce free. His dick twitches, a bead of precum leaking from the swollen head.

Quickly leaning back against his pillows, you open your arms and legs for him. Baji lays on top of you, caging you in. His silver pendants dangling from his neck. He grins, his canines cutely scraping against his bottom lip. Keisuke lowers his head to kiss you again, more slowly this time. He massages the ball of his piercing sensually over your tongue. His lips linger on yours, swallowing your little moans. Pulling away from your mouth, he licks and bites down your neck and collarbone before moving to your breasts.

Groaning quietly, he cups your soft flesh in his large palms, sucking and licking your nipples lasciviously. “Mmm— I’ve wanted your titties in my mouth,” Baji’s resonant voice against your sensitive nipple vibrates through your core.

“Keisuke.” You sigh, grasping at the nape of his neck, pressing his head closer to your chest.

He grins against your breasts, swirling his tongue around one of your erect nipples, rolling the tip of the other between the pads of his fingers. He’s satisfied once the peaks of both your breasts are tender and wet with his saliva.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” Keisuke murmurs as he kisses and licks his way to your stomach. He teasingly dips a fingertip into your belly button, eliciting goosebumps and a breathy sigh. He chuckles at your reaction, “You’re so cute.”

Baji slowly inches down your body, kissing and nibbling around the outline of your panties. Sharp teeth grazing the soft skin of your belly, hips, and upper thighs. He is a tease, purposefully ignoring the growing wet spot on the fabric centimeters from his lips. He chuckles at your desperation, the way you thrust your pelvis, trying to get relief from friction by rubbing against his face.

Finally, he plants a kiss on your clothed slit. You moan, wriggling your hips, hands tangling a mess in his ponytail. Keisuke chuckles again, “Okay, okay, baby… I’m gettin’ there.”

Hooking his long fingers beneath the waistband of your panties, he slides the sopping garment down your thighs. A low growl forms in his throat as a slippery strand of your arousal clings to the crotch of your panties. “Fuuck,” Baji's breath is heavy as he licks his lips, looking up at you. “Your pussy’s so wet.”

You squirm, self-conscious and horny, “Keisuk-ehh,” you whine, turning your head, burying your face in his pillow.

Completely exposed to him, Baji splays his big hands between your thighs, spreading them wider. His bronze eyes are lustful and dreamy as he admires your glistening wet lips. Mesmerized by your pussy, he traces the outline of your swollen labia with his fingertip before gathering the slick seeping out of your little hole, spreading it around your lips.

You whimper as Keisuke puts his nose practically inside of you. Inhaling the scent of your arousal, he moans about how good you smell. The sensation of his hot breath against your naked pussy makes your toes curl.

Grinning at your soft mewls, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to the hood of your clitoris. You jolt, the sensation sending a rush of heat through your body as you thrust up against his lips.

Keisuke purrs, sliding the tip of his tongue between your lips, tasting you. “Mmmm.”

The vibration from his deep voice sends shivers through you, making your hips buck again.

“So squirmy,” he chuckles. Curling his arms underneath your thighs, he grips you with his biceps, holding you firmly against him so he can continue.

Baji looks up at you with pure want in his eyes. Wetting his lips, he sticks out his tongue, holding it flat against his chin. The ball of his piercing raised from its stem. Slowly, sensuously, he licks you. His wide tongue trails saliva up and down your pussy and over your clitoris. His slow pace is deliciously agonizing, you writhe beneath his strong grip on your thighs. Panting, you rake your fingers through his hair, loosening his ponytail.

Baji moves his attention to your clit, slurping and sucking it noisily. Encouraged by your moans, he slips a single finger inside you. Deftly curling it upwards, exploring your warm wet walls, searching for your special spot.

Trembling, you reach to touch his lips, putting one of your fingers inside his mouth. You start rubbing your fingertip over your swollen nub while his mouth is on you. Groaning at the sensation of your finger in his mouth, Keisuke slides a second finger into your drooling pussy, stretching you out. He’s found your sweet spot and presses it with a firm, deep pressure. An intense wave rushes through your entire body, arching your back in pleasure. Baji greedily licks your fingers, sucking on them.

“Unff…ffuu…,” you whimper, as more meaningless words spilling from your lips. Your face muffled against his pillow. You’re so close to release; your whole body tingles, toes curling. Panting, you gyrate against Keisuke’s mouth, rubbing your wet pussy on his face. He thrusts and curves his fingers inside your walls, rhythmically massaging your G-spot. His lips make sloppy wet sounds as he continues sucking your clit. Your wet walls contract, pulsating. Baji moans as your pussy flutters around his fingers.

“Keisuke!” You cry out, cumming hard against his face. He keeps his mouth over your clit and fingers firmly inside you as you ride out your high.

Still panting, you sigh contentedly, giving Baji’s head a little squeeze between your thighs. He sits up, amber eyes beaming at you, a triumphant grin on his face. His long dark hair has come out of its ponytail, wisps sticking to the sweat on his forehead. His lips, chin, and the tip of his nose glistening with your slick.

“I wanna fuck you now,” Keisuke smiles wolfishly up at you from between your thighs, his bronze eyes heavy-lidded with desire. Sitting up, he wipes away the sweat from his forehead, running his fingers through his long tangled hair. “Fuck… I need some water,” he chuckles. “Your little pussy made me thirsty.” He notices you’re still panting and grins, “I bet you're thirsty too, huh?”

“Oh my god, yes! I just didn’t want to ruin the moment by saying anything,” you laugh.

“Baby, this is a marathon, you gotta stay hydrated,” Baji winks at you as he gets up from his bed, his huge veiny hard-on bobbing in front of him. It leads him from his room to the kitchen. Sighing, you stare at the little bounce his sculpted muscular ass produces as he walks away. Your wet pussy leaks onto his sheets as you stretch your arms above your head.

Hastily, you sprint to his bathroom to pee, making it back just as he returns with a bottle of water from his fridge. He’s about to hand it to you when he has a better idea.

“Open your mouth, gorgeous,” Keisuke opens the bottle and slowly pours it into your mouth, his eyes filled with lust as he watches the stream of water spilling from your lips down your neck to your bare breasts.

Palming his neglected erection, he takes a gulp of water and bends down to kiss you, sensually passing the water from his mouth to yours. Keisuke slowly swirls his tongue, teasing yours with the ball of his piercing. The taste of your pussy is still on his lips and tongue. You moan into his mouth as he takes the tip of your tongue between his lips and gently sucks it.

Baji eagerly lays on top of you as you reach down between his toned quads to stroke his cock from base to tip. Warm precum leaks from the engorged head into your palm. The veins in his thick shaft are completely swollen, his dick feels so heavy and huge — you need both hands to stroke him properly. Groaning, his hips reflexively roll forward, thrusting his needy cock against your hands.

“Keisuk-ehh,” you purr, looking up at him with yearning eyes. Bending down to kiss you, his pendants dangle from his neck above you. Baji slips one of his large hands between your legs. His silver rings scrape against the tender skin of your thighs. He easily penetrates your drooling wet pussy with two long fingers, curling them upwards. A low groan vibrates from his Adam’s apple when he feels just how wet and ready you are for him.

“Ufff… I need to be in you,” Keisuke grunts, his usually velvety deep voice sounds gruff now, making your pussy ache. You whimper, gyrating against his fingers inside you, needing to feel the friction from his hand against your slick lips and swollen clit.

Your horny noises and thrusting pussy are too much for Baji — a hoarse growl emanates from his throat as he grabs you by your thighs, spreading your legs and pulling your hips flush beneath him. Your pelvis instinctively bucks up as he grips his thick cock in one hand, gliding it over your slippery folds. You both moan as he slaps the head against your needy clit.

“Mmm, baby… you’re so wet,” Keisuke gazes down at your glistening cunt, his sharp canines biting into his lower lip. His eyes transfixed on your shiny swollen labia, he slowly eases into your warm wet hole, groaning at the sight of your drooling little pussy taking in his lengthy cock.

Baji bends to kiss you, teasingly licking your lower lip before penetrating your mouth, massaging your tongue with his. Your whole body tingles from the sensations of his fat tongue in your mouth and fat cock in your pussy.

He moans into your mouth as the plush walls of your hot little cunt stretch to accommodate his lengthy hard dick. He sensually circles his hips, thrusting into you, his large hands firmly gripping your ass and thighs.

Keisuke fucks you hard, burying his shaft deep in your pussy, with each thrust his heavy balls bounce against your ass. He stares lustfully at your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you. Both your bodies slick with sweat, incoherent sex noises and lewd squelching sounds from your pussy fill the room, the air thick with pheromones.

Baji reaches between your legs to rub wet circles around your clitoris, then gently pinches it. “Fff…uff,” you moan, toes curling, back arching off the mattress as you writhe beneath him. He groans as you buck your hips up, grinding your swollen clit against his pelvis, your walls gripping his entire length inside you.

Keisuke leans forward to suck on your titties. He wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it, swirling his tongue around the hard tip, drooling — his eyes closed in pure ecstasy. Mewling, you grab his muscular ass with both hands, pushing him deeper into you. Baji moans as your sopping-wet pussy sucks him in.

Your walls begin to contract and flutter around him, and you whimper, burying your face in one of his pillows. Your toes curl as his cock swells even larger inside you, making your pussy throb. Your entire body tingles, waves of pleasurable heat flow through your core. “Ffuu… uhf… KEI!” You call out his name, moaning, trembling, your thighs shaking. Keisuke gazes down at you, his golden brown eyes half-closed and dreamy as he fucks you through your orgasm.

The hot pulsating sensations of your wet walls fluttering and squeezing his cock soon push Baji to his limit. There’s a warm tingling in his balls, the muscles at the base of his dick tighten and contract. Keisuke grunts, clenching his pelvic muscles, trying to hold back, but it’s no use.

It’s the way you look panting beneath him: You’re just too hot, your pussy’s too wet. Your sexy little moans… the fuckin’ needy way you called out his name as you came so hard, creaming around his cock…. FUUCK!

Baji groans, exhaling a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I’m gonna cum!” He calls out your name, you moan as you squeeze his thick cock, milking it as he thrusts into you, sloppily jerking his hips, shooting his hot cum deep in your pussy. Keisuke moans, his shoulders shuddering, the aftershocks of his orgasm sending shivers down his spine. He collapses on top of you with a little grunt.

“Fuck, baby... you wore me out,” Baji chuckles as he rolls over onto his pillow next to you.

“You’re so pretty when you cum…” he touches your mouth, tracing your lips with his index finger, “and your little noises are so sexy.” He smiles at you with soft affection in his eyes.

“You’re pretty hot, yourself — Baji-san.” You both laugh at the name he specifically told you not to call him when you first started working at the pet shop.

“C’mere, gorgeous.” Keisuke pulls you onto his sculpted chest, embracing you in a full-body hug. He lowers his chin and kisses the top of your head, “You smell so good,” he murmurs into your hair.

The silver pendants from his necklaces press against your face. You push them gently aside, laying your hand on his heart. He begins drawing tiny shapes on the back of your hand with his fingertips. Sighing, you nuzzle in closer to his chest. Baji’s skin smells warm and comforting — a faint blend of sandalwood, pot, and sex. Soft strands of his long wavy black hair tickle your face.

“Y’know, it’s kinda funny…,” Baji pauses to clear his throat. You can feel his Adam’s apple bob and vibrate as he speaks, his deep voice low and soothing. “I asked you to come over tonight ‘cos I was gonna ask you out.” He entwines his fingers with yours. “I even made sure Chifuyu and Kazutora would be gone so we could be alone.”

“Really?” You smile as you feel Baji’s heart begin to beat a little bit faster in his chest.

“But I wasn’t sure if you liked me in that way… y’know — romantically,” he mumbles, and you can practically hear the blush in his voice.

How is he so fucking cute?

“Keisuke,” you lift your head to peer up at him. And he is blushing, his chiseled cheekbones dusted pink. He momentarily looks away from you, breaking eye contact. He’s embarrassed because he blushed and you saw it.

“Kei,” you sit up and place a hand on one of his pink cheeks. “I came over because I wanted to have sex with you. Like, that was my plan from the beginning,” you tell him, thinking it will reassure him.

Baji looks into your eyes. His expression is soft and sincere, vulnerable. “I don’t want just that though…,” he pauses and self-consciously rubs the back of his neck, trying very hard not to break eye contact.

“Fuck — what I’m tryin’ to say is… I don’t wanna be,” he makes air quotes here, “‘friends with benefits’, or fuck buddies. Or any of that shit. I want more than that. I really, truly like you… a lot,” he realizes he’s still rubbing at the back of his neck and puts his hand down. He grins at you sheepishly, a wide smile that makes his brown eyes crinkle adorably shut.

“Keisuke!” You’re completely unable to think of anything even remotely coherent to say. He looks down at you expectantly. And you just stare back up at him for several long seconds, with pure adoration in your eyes. If heart eyes were real, you’d definitely have them.

Finally, you’re able to speak — sort of: “I-I like you too… really, so so much… like I can’t even begin to say h—”

“Then just kiss me already,” Keisuke chuckles, pulling you towards him.

©️poorly written by Bajiisofine 2dmenforme, 2023. Please do not copy, translate, upload to other platforms, or claim as your own.

[sleepiexx]

Right Under Her Nose

Valeria Garza x fem!Reader + Platonic!John “Soap” Mactavish x fem!Reader

Note: This has been a wip for mooonths dude

Summary: Valeria had expected that her girlfriend just wanted space, albeit not so fond of the idea that she couldn’t respond to a simple text, she’d grant her wish and leave her alone. Oh how wrong she turned out to be.

Warnings: Lots of talk about blood, death, and some gore, kind of graphic but not super detailed, Valeria and Reader fight, and the first half is Valeria-less

Word Count: 3859

The only sound resounding in the near empty room was the dripping of blood, a sick echo of the liquid dripping onto concrete. (Y/N) was so out of it that she had originally assumed there was a leak in the ceiling, but she was wrong. She only realized it was the sound of her own blood when she saw the pool of the red liquid under her rippling in tune with the dripping noise.

She knew she was hurt, of course— how could she forget the rigorous hours of torture she had been subject to? But she didn’t know that a person could bleed this much and survive, it reflected in her physical state heavily. Everything hurt, even thinking.

How did she even end up here?

She led a normal life. She lived off of tips and the wage she earned by waiting tables at a cushy place downtown. After long nights and rush hours, she would return home to her apartment and plants. Along the way, she met a woman who she loved with her entire heart and was lucky enough to call her girlfriend. (Y/N) (L/N) lived as normal as life could get and yet somehow, someway, one of those life choices led to her capture and torture by members of the cartel.

“I don’t know anything!” She’d sobbed for hours as they dismantled her physical and psychological being without relent. Drawn out beatings, cuts, slashes, all blended together in her mind as one heaping pile of pain.

One name stuck out. The one that they had asked her about her connection to over and over again: El Sin Nombre.

She had no clue who El Sin Nombre was. She guessed they were some rival to the men who had been torturing her, but she knew nothing more than that and she certainly didn’t know how she fit into the equation.

She didn’t run with any cartels, or do drugs— hard ones anyway, she couldn’t imagine her marijuana use had anything to do with this. She knew for a fact that her plug didn’t dabble in selling or consuming harder drugs either, so it couldn’t have been him. Besides, who gets tortured for enjoying a blunt every once in a while? She was innocent, why couldn’t they see that?

The door pounded, wood splintering and cracking from the pressure. That wasn’t good. The cartel had been angry throughout her interrogation, that much had been clear with the way they had treated her, yet now they were unable to even keep their cool. What happened? Was she no longer “useful” to them? Had they decided she was better off dead? What made it so urgent that they couldn’t use the key and had to knock the door down?

The door finally caved under the pressure. The big group of men that (Y/N) had been expecting turned out to be just one man. One man with a gun.

Panic shot through her veins, a newfound energy along with it. She thrashed around in her chair, desperate to get away from him, yet the restraints didn’t budge.

He stomped towards her, a blank face as he held the gun in a position that suggested he was ready to lift and shoot at the drop of a hat.

She would do anything to survive, grasping at straws for a chance at life, “Hey- hey, wait wait wait- I thought- you need me, you need the information I have.” She didn’t have any information, she knew that, and it seemed so did he.

“Your information is not important.” He huffed, a deep glare etched into his eyes, “Something’s come up, I have to tie up the loose ends.”

His gun raised, aiming straight for her forehead. Tears fell from her eyes, with nothing to lose now she had no qualms crying to her heart’s content. All shame she felt dissipated as she sobbed and begged— begged for her life.

“Please- Please, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did please, please don’t kill me.”

Her throat felt raw as her sobs bordered on screams. She saw his finger wrap around the trigger and she closed her eyes as she heard a loud bang, waiting to feel the pain and then nothing at all.

But it never came.

She felt a spray of hot liquid splashing on her face, which she suspected was her own blood, but confusion consumed her as she still felt very much alive.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. The man who nearly killed her was on the ground, resting in a puddle of his own blood.

“What the fuck?” She whispered, eyes wide. She looked up, met with the sight of a man. He wore a uniform, army, and he had stubble and a Mohawk. He looked like any average soldier and yet after hours of unrelenting torture, you could never be too cautious.

She struggled against her restraints once more but it only proved to be a harder task now that her adrenaline levels were fading and exhaustion was taking over.

“Hey, Hey!” He called out to her, trying to calm her down, “it’s okay, love, it’s over. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

She calmed at the thought, staring at him with hopeful eyes. “Please.” She begged. At this point, she didn’t even know what she was begging for.

He stepped forward carefully, “I’m Soap, I’m going to try and untie your restraints. Is tha’ okay?”

She didn’t like how he treated her like a scared animal but she appreciated him narrating everything he was doing. It made things predictable, less scary that way. She nodded.

Despite getting the go ahead, he continued at a slow pace, in fear of startling her or triggering something. With the state of her blood-stained body, he could only imagine the horrors she had went through in however long she had been there.

She felt nervous as he had to stand behind her to untie her wrists. Out of her line of vision, he was unpredictable. But as a seasoned soldier, he knew that, knew exactly how she was feeling, and he would do anything in his power to alleviate some of the pain.

“The ropes aren’t budging, I’m going to use a knife to cut them off, so I need you to stay real still, okay?”

She nodded.

He sawed the ropes until they fell off with a wet plop onto the soaked floor. She pulled her hands forward, shoulders aching from having been kept in that position for so long. She stared down at the red lines that followed her wrists where the ropes had been. She had struggled so much that she rubbed her wrists raw and bloody.

He walked around to the front of the chair, where he squatted down and did the same to the restraints on her ankles.

Completely unrestrained, she got slightly overzealous and attempted to stand. Her legs were weak, though, having only stood few times in the past however long when the cartel felt gracious enough to let her go to the bathroom. She nearly instantly collapsed and likely would have fallen right on top of the dead man had the soldier not been there to catch her.

“Hey, easy, easy. Don’ think you should be walkin’ on your own just yet.” He looked down at her, trying to help her stand on her own but it was proving impossible in her state, “alright, I’m going to pick you up.”

One of his hands snaked down from where they were on her sides to the pit of her knees, picking her up in a bridal carry. She groaned at the movement, open wounds aching and sending shooting pains throughout her body.

“Steamin’ Jesus, what did they do to you?” He wondered aloud, concerned at the whines and pained moans leaving her mouth.

She didn’t respond, too emotionally and physically exhausted to have a deep conversation. As he carried her throughout the compound, her eyes began to shut, almost succumbing to darkness. Soap instantly took notice.

“Hey, you can’t go dying on me now, love. Gotta stay awake. Talk to me.” He hoped she would start rambling so he could gauge the state she was in without having to take his focus off of the compound in front of him, but she just blinked at him. It was a hard task to ask of a girl who had just been through hell. But Soap was witty, and he had no problem finding another way for her to talk, “What’s your name, hen?”

“(Y/N),” it came out like a whisper, but before this she hadn’t talked to him at all so it was progress.

“(Y/N)? I like it. What’s your favorite color, (Y/N)?”

“Blue,” she murmured.

He smiled, “nice color, I like green.”

“Green? Is your full name Irish Spring?” Her voice was weak, and wavering, so it was hard to get across a tone to match the joke she had made.

He shook his head, not understanding that she was joking, “I’m Scottish actually.”

“Irish Spring, like the green soap.”

He looked down at her and smirked, “I did not think you were capable of makin’ quips like that.”

She looked away, feeling some of the effects of the blood loss hitting her. Loopy-ness being the main one, she found herself unable to control her words, “What kind of name is Soap anyway?”

“It’s not a name.” He said, kicking down a door that stood in their way. Quickly checking if the coast was clear before finishing his statement, “It’s a callsign. My real name is John.”

“John,” she mumbled, “that doesn’t really suit you.”

“You can call me Johnny if ya like-“

Just as Soap thought he was making progress, keeping the hostage’s thoughts on other things, he was met with the sound of more cartel.

“Fuck.” He muttered, mind racing through all of his options.

(Y/N) could tell they were coming, her eyes were wide and her heart rate picked up. Fear consumed her once more. Especially as the soldier set her down on the ground.

“I’m going to deal with this, you stay right here.” He explained, not giving her room to speak as he b lined it out of the door, towards the gaggle of cartel members.

All she heard were gunshots, gunshots and screaming. She made an attempt at self soothing by rocking back and forth but it didn’t help that she was wounded to shit, making her movements jagged and painful.

What if Johnny died out there? What if her only hope at escape from this awful place was shot and killed defending her?

She didn’t know if there were more soldiers, or if it was just him, all she knew was that she needed him, desperately.

God, how she wanted to peek so bad, especially when the room went silent. But she knew she couldn’t disobey the soldier. Not when it was his judgement that had gotten them this far.

Like an answered prayer, he appeared right in the doorway.

“Hey, hen.” He smiled at her, trying to cheer her up, but it faltered when he saw just how harshly she had reverted to the nervous state he had found her in.

He walked up towards her, picking her up once more. “I’ve gotcha,” he coo’d, hoping to calm her down slightly. He knew he had to get her out of there, fast, so he sped up his pace.

It went like that for a while, until they finally made it to the evac point.

Soap could see the confusion portrayed by each of his team members as he carried the wounded woman towards them. She was covered in blood and limp, to the team she looked like a corpse, yet Soap could see her eyes staring at any and everything, they still had life behind them.

The masked man spoke first, “what’s this?” His critical eyes analyzing her.

Soap could tell that his teammate’s imposing presence scared the girl, so he nodded him off to the side, “This, Ghost, is (Y/N), the cartel was holding her hostage.”

Shortly after, he turned to (Y/N), not wanting to talk about her with them right in front of her, “this is my team, Ghost, Gaz, and Captain Price.”

The man he had referred to as Captain Price stood at attention as their evac helicopter came inbound. “Plenty of time for introductions on the chopper, Soap.”

He nodded and hopped in the second the aircraft landed. In the short time it took to load everyone in, he called out to the crew who had already been in the chopper, “can I get a medic?” He yelled, gesturing towards the blood coated woman.

Thankfully, of the small crew they’d taken with them, a medic was amongst their ranks. They took to the girl, packing her bigger wounds with gauze as she groaned in pain.

“Oh, fuck!” She called out, face twisting into a grimace.

“What did the cartel want from you?” Price prodded.

Soap went to get onto him for questioning her as she writhed in pain, but Gaz beat him to it, “Jesus, Captain, the poor thing’s gettin’ treated for extensive wounds and now is when you want to question her?”

The men stared at each other, but (Y/N) relented. “I- I don’t know. They kept bringing up some guy in a rival cartel but I don’t- I don’t know anything about it.”

A loud whine left her lips as a particularly deep gash was treated. She couldn’t stop the tear that fell down her cheek from the pain.

Soap frowned, trying to stay positive, “we’re gonna get you home, alright hen?”

And she nodded, reluctant but hopeful.

The rest of the ride was a blur, at some point she passed out, she only woke up days later in a bright hospital room. To her surprise, the Scottish soldier was by her side.

“Johnny?” She mumbled, voice raw and cracking from a lack of use.

His head shot up, staring at the girl who had been asleep for nearly four days. “(Y/N), hey! How are you feeling?”

She groaned, body sore, “like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

He chuckled slightly, “yeah, you look it too. But the doc says you’ll be back to your old self in no time, whatever that is.”

“So nothing too serious?” She asked.

His lips flattened, not liking the way her words discredited what she went through. “You took quite the beating, hen. Nothing deadly or physically altering, but you broke a few ribs, got a couple of deep gashes, and you suffered so much blood loss they had to drug you up until you were fixed.”

She sighed, taking in his words, “fuck, man.”

“But the doctor only let up on the drugs now because everything’s sorted, as long as you follow the doctors orders and get one last physical, you’re good to go home until the next checkup.”

Her expression didn’t change at the good news, “I- I don’t even know where I am. Or how to get home.”

Soap grabbed her hand, “Don’t worry about that, I’ll get you where you need to be.”

She gulped anxiously, but nodded nonetheless.

By the end of the day, Johnny fulfilled his promise. She was discharged from the hospital and he himself drove her back home. He even went as far as to walk her into her house and give her his number, should she ever need him.

She stared at the ground, never good at goodbye’s but still wanting to say her thanks, “Thank you, for everything.”

He pulled her into a hug, “No need to thank me, hen, you get some rest.” And just like that he was out the door.

Unbeknownst to the two, their goodbye had been watched.

Mere minutes after Soaps departure, frantic knocking sounded at (Y/N)’s door. Recent trauma still fresh on her mind, she panicked. A million possibilities flashed through her head, all ending with the cartel knocking down her door and taking her away once more.

That idea was shattered as (Y/N) heard her girlfriend yelling behind the door, “I know you’re home, (Y/N)!”

She hesitantly stepped towards the door, unlocking and cracking it open before Valeria pushed her way into the apartment with anger written all over her face.

Valeria slammed the front door shut, fuming words spewing out of her mouth before (Y/N) could even form a sentence, “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you like crazy for two weeks and you’ve just been gone. No voicemail, no text, not even a note.”

“Val I-“

“How could you just disappear like that? I care about you (Y/N), it really fucking hurts when you can’t seem to tell me you’re going somewhere.”

(Y/N) knew she was pissed. Valeria never talked about her emotions, ever, and here she was baring her wounds to (Y/N). Sure she was regularly angry, but (Y/N) knew her better. She knew that this was worse than any superficial fight they had ever had.

“Valeria-“

“And who was that man you were with, huh? Are you doing something behind my back?”

To (Y/N), this meant cheating, but to Valeria who had met Soap before, she had feared a full betrayal. She only fell short in her words as tears fell from her girlfriend’s eyes.

“No! No, I wouldn’t do that!” (Y/N) sobbed, “I was kidnapped, I barely made it out alive. He saved me!”

“Kidnapped?” Valeria whispered to herself, but (Y/N) heard it.

“I know, I know it sounds crazy- fuck, I feel crazy,” (Y/N) cut herself off, breathing out the last part, “but yeah, I was taken by the cartel because- because they thought I had ties to their rivals but I don’t, Valeria, I swear I don’t.”

Valeria’s face shifted to an expression (Y/N) couldn’t read. Some mix of pity, sadness, and almost… guilt?

She placed her hands on either of (Y/N)’s shoulders, “(Y/N), baby, do you remember who they were asking you about specifically?”

(Y/N) sniffled, “I don’t know, it was something like El Sin Hombre— no, Nombre? I don’t know, one of those. Why?”

Valeria’s face darkened. Her eyebrows knit together and the guilty look deepened. Her glare burnt a hole into the floor.

“You do have a connection to El Sin Nombre.” She muttered.

There was a beat of silence before (Y/N) spoke.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, confusion evident, only making her more distraught.

Valeria’s eyes slowly lifted to meet her girlfriend‘s, “(Y/N), I am El Sin Nombre.”

“No.” (Y/N) mumbled, ever so slightly raising her voice, “No, you can’t be.”

She tried to squirm away from Valeria, but the grip on her shoulders was too tight. Eventually she gave up trying to get away and allowed herself to collapse into her lover’s hold, sobbing into the crook of her neck.

“Please, no.” She cried, “it hurt, Valeria, it hurt. Please god no.”

Valeria pet her hair, tears quietly streaming down her face. The sound of her lover’s pain rang out like rusted church bells, raw screaming echoing off the living room walls.

Knowing that all this was her fault— that all of (Y/N)’s pain was caused by her— it hurt more than any bullet or shrapnel that Valeria had ever felt buried beneath her skin.

“They hurt me so bad. Please, Valeria.” And, god, (Y/N) had no clue what she was begging for but all she could do in this moment was plead— for respite, for love, for an end to her pain. She was reduced to this residual ache, physically, mentally, everything hurt. She hadn’t prayed in years and yet now she found herself yearning for divine intervention.

She choked on her words, yet Valeria heard her loud and clear.

The statement made Valeria shake not only in sorrow, but in a cacophony of despair and rage.

“I’ll kill them.” Valeria’s voice carried a malevolent undertone, laced with venom and spite.

(Y/N) stilled, her eyes trailing to slightly meet Valeria’s despite the way the rest of her face was hidden behind Valeria’s shirt, “What?”

Valeria pulled her from her chest, cupping her hands around (Y/N)‘s cheeks. It was in this moment that she finally saw how bruised and swollen (Y/N)’s face was, the full extent at which those men had hurt her. A rage bubbled beneath Valeria’s skin. “I will kill each and every one of them, (Y/N).”

And it wasn’t perfect. Everything still hurt. (Y/N) still felt like she was splayed out on the floor with her guts ripped open. And yet, it was enough. The promise of healing— of fixing things, however violently things needed to be fixed. And so they sat like that, Valeria holding her lover as she sobbed, for the rest of the night, and many nights after that, as long as it took to heal.

Months later, Soap was working late at the base, filling out paperwork from a recent mission. It was likely he was the only one working this late in this part of the building. That’s why it surprised him to hear a voice from behind him.

“Working hard, soldier?”

He knew the voice, but he thought he had imagined it. He was shocked as he turned around and confirmed his suspicions. She was leaning on the desk behind him, arms crossed.

“Valeria,” he looked the woman up and down, scanning her for weapons, “Why are you here?”

She sat up from the table, uncrossing her arms, “I came to thank you.”

“Thank me? For what? I got you arrested.”

She raised an eyebrow, staring into his soul, “I know that. I’m talking about something different.”

His brows furrowed, “go on.”

“A few months ago you saved a woman who was being tortured for information.”

“(Y/N),” he confirmed.

She nodded, “(Y/N) is my girlfriend.”

His jaw nearly dropped at the statement. “She told me she didn’t have any connection to the cartel,” he frowned, slight betrayal ebbing at him.

Valeria shook her head, guilt coming back as she remembered (Y/N) sobbing the same thing to her, “She didn’t know, I hadn’t told her.”

That made him feel better, but he was still confused, “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

Valeria’s tough attitude seemed to falter, “I just- Thank you. Thank you for saving her. I didn’t even know she was taken, I fear for what would have happened had she been there any longer.”

He nodded, “She’s a good person, never hurt her.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” And with that, Valeria walked right out of the military base— presumably the way she came in. Soap knew he should follow her, should track her down and capture her so she could be arrested. But when he thought back to (Y/N), he knew he could never do that to the poor girl. So he let her go.

[technologyculturedneo]

SOS: Am I Alive?

“As long as I’m still here, you’re still my bitch.”

SUMMARY. Tending to commit crime and causing havoc, Mark and Haechan tagged along with their brothers find themselves trapped in a rich mansion with two spoilt wealthy girls. Dae and her sister Yezi pray for their father (Chenle) or even the police (Jaemin and team) to save them as they’ve failed to hold their own ground. With no saving arms in reach the girls end up submitting to all of the boys request, including degradation and demoralization- all in the name of preventing bloodshed.

PAIRING(s). Burglar, Delinquent!Mark, Haechan, Jeno, Renjun; Police!Jaemin, Jisung; Husband!Chenle, OC (original character) 

GENRE. Longshot. Angst. Crime. Strangers to lovers. Smut (non-consensual). 

WARNINGS. Alcohol, smoking, marijuana use, toxic relationship, family, swearing, s content (non con, choking, restrains, intercourse, degradation)

Read next: SOS: Poison In My Mind

S1: E1-7

"But mum I've got tickets-"

"Even if you have tickets, the answer is still no if you don't place all your assignments on my desk." Our step mum, Chungdae, drones out like a machine to my 16 year old sister, Yezi, while focusing her mind on preparing a meal for my dad. “Just because you’re homeschooled shouldn’t give you the right to flunk on your assignments whenever you want.”

"Come one mum, Professor Doyoung said it'd be okay if I hand in my work on Monday. Which means, I still have today, tomorrow to finish the work." Yezi points off her fingers seemingly desperate in trying to convince mum. “Come on mum,”

“I’m not off. And I don’t care how many days you have. Those are my rules. You’re not going anywhere until your work is on my desk. All of your work.”

One thing Yezi tremendously fails at doing is trying to get mum to say yes to anything. Already knowing that, it would be fair to not even approach mum with any proposal, unless of course it’s educational content- not some kpop meet and greet. 

"Come on mum. You let Dae do it all the time. It’s not fair." Yezi nags, slowly losing her cool and temper. But mum is immune to it all by moving back and forth from the cooking book to the pot on the stove that’s steaming hot.

Pointing my fork, that has a pineapple slice, to Yezi, I chip in to defend myself. "That's because I'm in college, responsible and go to events that actually benefit me in the future." Yezi rolls her eyes. "Not what you do-"

"That's because you're boring. B O R I N G. Boring." Yezi deadpans leaning over the kitchen counter, blocking my mum from reading the ingredients book with her hand. “And mum you don’t need this book. I hate all the dishes here-”

“It’s for dad you idiot.” I remark getting irked by her nagging tone. “Not you.”

“Did I ask you?”’

“I don’t need your consent to speak.” I counter back munching on the rest of my pineapple salad.

Mum picks up the homemade cooking book that Mrs Chittaphon gave her, a book given in order to prepare new and cultured dishes for my dad.

Mrs Chittaphon is our Thai neighbor who over the weekends (for free) teaches Yezi how to speak Thai. She’s also the person I blame for influencing Yezi in a lot of weird eastern side culture. Not that it's a bad thing to learn about another culture, but I think it’s personally annoying hearing Yezi continuously watch 'Thailand dramas' and claim that their history facts are all that.

But regardless, at this point Mrs Chittaphon is almost like family, simply because she's Thai who speaks Chinese and is familiar with Chinese culture- and we're half Korean half Chinese, who speak no Chinese or Thai. 

I think my dad just wants us to keep the ‘Chinese culture’ by being with someone of our own, and someone like Mrs Chittaphon who speaks many languages being Korean, English, Thai and Chinese. Her presence is essential to my dad, as he gets the piece of mind that culture is not lost. So thus, she's almost like family. Almost...mostly to my dad and Yezi, to me and mum she's a mean lady from Thailand who's married to a monk man, Mr Chittaphon. Or as we like to call him Ten, because it takes 10 seconds for him to curse us out whenever we step foot on his perfectly trimmed garden whenever we visit.

The reason Mrs Chittaphon is so close to us, is because my dad mentioned that it would be nice if mum learnt a few Chinese dishes, so that he would feel more at home instead of eating salads and unseasoned Korean diet meat. The other reason is so that mum could also become 'friends' with Mrs Chittaphon and learn Chinese. Which is impossible, the lady and her husband basically hate mum- having to do with the reason that she’s my dad’s second wife and that she knows nothing about China. Can they blame her, she’s never been to China before, she’s full Korean and knows very well about her motherland, our motherland.

Fine culture is what graces our lives, yet mum is more humbled and not as flashy as dad, me and Yezi.

"Sweety don't call your sister boring," mum says distantly, trying to focus on the ingredient list. Crinkles appear on her forehead when holding garlic and ginger. “Which one is it?” She mutters.

"Okay fine mum, I promise before 4 p.m. I'll get all my homework done and it’ll be on your desk ready for Professor Doyoung who'll come Monday. Then can I go?" She proposes with perky attitude. Shaking my head and placing my bowl in the sink washing it- I wonder on the final verdict from my mum.

"You can go. As long as Dae goes with you."

"Oh my fucking god. What?"

“Language Yezi.”

"I don't wanna go to her stupid thing." After drinking my glass of water, I turn around drying my hands. “It’s useless to me.”

"Mum she can't go! She'll ruin the whole thing!" A frown and sharp stare attacks Yezi’s eyes as we stare brutally at each other. “Just look at her.”

"Oh come on sweety she won't ruin the whole thing-"

"Yes she will!" Yezi boils out and screeches- catching us by surprise. "Come on mum, she's the best at all she does and all she does is make people hate her!"

"Sweety don't say that about your sister-"

"Mum I don't even want people thinking we're related!" Yezi exclaims again. "I could get stoned for knowing someone like her."

"You pissy brat!" I throw a spoon at her to which she dodges and throws back her shoe.

"Girls! Girls!" Mum stands in front of me. "Dae you're 19 years old, act your age, you're too old for partaking in this behavior."

"Tell her again, and don’t forget to mention she’s too old to still be living in her parents house." Yezi folds her arms fuming. "Mum pay attention to me leave her alone," She whines again.

Cooling down, I take a seat down on top of the counter and fold my arms glaring at her. "Why are you screaming when she's right here? You're so annoying."

"And you suck."

I roll my eyes mocking her tone. "You suck."

"Ugh! I'll just have to go ask dad," She huffs.

"Sweety, don't. Listen. He came in late last night. Let him him rest." Rigidly  leaving the ingredient book on the counter, mum walks to Yezi holding her shoulders.

Our dad, Zhong Chenle, an infamous Architect designer and real estate agent for his own housing and company creations. He works around the world designing and building houses for rich and partly famous people, he showcases a lot of his work in London, the States and China, thus making him constantly on the move and travelling. Being the heir to the family business, he’s often on work mode and hardly gets time to rest. On the days that he does have time to catch a break, he prefers to spend it with us, yet mum advices and convince him to catch a break before engaging with the family. 

Right now if Yezi had to go to him, disrupting his sleep, he would allow for her to go to that meet and greet and also for her to go alone because of the guilt he feels for not being around- if anything Yezi has a sharp tongue and can make anyone upset with her words. Unfortunately, my dad is weak to that. He’d even go as far as giving her extra money to waste. There’s always something about him throwing money at us to cover the guilt he’s feeling, it somehow makes us all feel better. It’s something dad constantly does, to the point where I also believe that throwing money at all my problems will make them mysteriously hush down. But seriously, money talks and has the ability to shut out all the guilt. So even though mum doesn’t like that we disrupt him from his sleep and make him feel guilty, we still prefer to run up to him just to get the dad bank. If we don't bother him then who will?

"I want all your homework on my desk before 4 pm and you’re going with Dae end of discussion." Mum says walking back to the counter and book.

Yezi's face becomes as red as a chili pepper about to explode. She stomps her way out the kitchen- like every other time when things don’t go her way.

"Oh shame are you going to cry because things aren’t going your way again? Spoilt brat." I mumble the last part when her door slams loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. “Such a brat.”

Mum lets out a breath going back to her station. She clears her throat, "Your sister is something else. It feels like she’s a riffle gun just shooting out nonstop." She sighs. "I wonder how your mother did it."

I smile at her. "You know mum, you're too nice for your own good. You need a back bone," 

"What do I do now?"

"Don't give up. Just have a little more strength and stop treating her like a baby, she's already spoilt." I hug her from behind hanging my head on her shoulder. I don't like seeing her stressed out because of Yezi or anything. She's a really good woman who I've grown to love. “Plus, dad will enjoy this dish. You know he loves it tradition style,”

“Yezi said he’d hate it.” She laughs a little, "I am glad that she's not the only child."

"And I'm glad that my dad remarried,"

Haechan, a young thug, drives to his usual parking spot which is by a small arena venue. He isn't expecting a mob of girls to be flooded at the parking rentals. Turns out there is an occasion this evening, in the small assembly. 

It’s in the afternoon when he parks his car, and together with his partner in crime Mark, they carefully snuggle into the cars around to get out a ‘thing or two’. Easy money is following a large crowd and getting lost in a sea of people. So while Haechan only came to park his car, he found himself staying longer because this spot right here was gold free of charge. And as the sun slights sets Haechan and Mark’s eyes peer over at all the girls that leave the venue. “Who are we gonna rob?” Mark enquires having his eyes fixed on the cheer filled girls leaving the arena and entering their cars- some of which Haechan and Mark had already stolen from.

Now the sun is out of sight and the once fully packed arena is now almost vacant with about 8 or 9 cars. Throughout the wait, he and Mark drink light beer beverages and smoke in the car to not draw any attention to themselves. The only thoughts in their head is who to rob next.

After the meet and greet: 6pm on the dot.

"OMG did you see the way he looked at me!" Yezi squeals beside me jumping up and down with all her gift bags and posters in her hand.

"Please there were 3 other girls behind you whose breast were practically begging for attention,"

"Do you enjoy sucking the fun out everything or are you naturally a bitch?" Yezi sends sharp eyes in my direction but I ignore her. I'm missing out on spending time with my friends for her stupid meet and greet and she's bitching. "You're negative because they didn't look at you,"

"Neither did I." I fake a smile going back to texting my friends in our group chat.

The event went successfully well and was kind of fun, as much as I don't want to admit. A lot of girls were there wearing nothing but the most revealing of clothes, few were decent but majority were overruled by revealing clothes. Yezi wore a black jumpsuit with a white top inside- upon seeing the styles in which the girls were dressed in she nagged and whined about how she should've worn a skirt too. I on the other hand wore all black, long sleeved shirt and high waist skirt with my black knee high socks and black boots. I dressed up, because I was still going out and thought I might as well be presentable. But eventually after getting bored, I found myself outside texting with my friends and waiting for Yezi. But now that she’s done, I have to multi task in ‘talking/ignoring’ her as well as texting my friends.

Hendry: u still out?

Me: Yep and my sisters bitching

Hendery: send her over, we've got an ancient Chinese healing that will whip her back into shape

Xioujun: I wonder why ur sister likes those type of music- Chinese melodies is where it's at!

Yangyang: You guys clearly haven't heard of WAP. That’s literally where it’s at.

I end up sending a message to my dad once Yezi is done mingling and getting contacts with some of the other girls. Feeling lazy to walk to the bus stop or order an uber and listen to my sister talk non stop about her experience that's not even interesting- I text up my dad.

"Are we walking?"

"No, I sent dad a message." I answer. "He'll be here soon,"

Yezi sighs joyously staring out into the empty. "Imagine I marry him and become Mrs Min-" I burst out laughing at what Yezi says.

"That name is awful. It sounds like that house cleaning product Mr Min,"

"Dae you are so heartless. Every time I try to talk about the things I like you shut me down."

I roll my eyes but stop halfway when catching something behind her. A guy. He’s leaning on a wall, drinking on a glass bottle of what looks like Terra beer. Chugging a mouthful of the alcohol- he downs the remaining in one gulp. He does all that with his eyes on me... Uneasiness washes over me. But I try to ignore it.

The event ended half an hour ago resulting with majority of the fans and people leaving. There’s only a few people loitering around outside the building and inside as well. Yezi and I are part of the few inside the building sitting on the vacant chairs, as the workers clean up... so maybe that’s why he’s looking at us...at me. Maybe because he works here and is possibly a manger trying to lock up...otherwise it wouldn’t make sense why he’s looking at me.

The man downing down his beer for a living propels himself to lean on the wall. He looks zoned out and not here, yet his whole figure screams out that he’s not acting normal. He’s got such a defined face, and his eyes although small are distinctively on me. My heart beats in speed when he tilts his head to the side his eyes going down my sitting figure- 

“It’s like you don’t even care about me.” 

Yezi’s voice brings me out of the trance I seemed to have gotten myself in with that guy. Peeking back only for a little bit, his lip curls up into a sly smirk. This time he preys open another can taking a big gulp of the can still with his eyes on me. I gulp down and look away feeling uncomfortable watching him drink on while using me as some sort of muse for him to watch. 

“Earth to Dae? Hello?”

Shaking my head and blinking my eyes away from the guy, I pane my view back to Yezi only to be irritated by the sight of her face- which is so close. 

“Look Yezi, if I don't care, I don't care. Go marry that cleaning product and leave me alone."

"That's his name." She says clinching her jaw and looking away while shaking her head. “And I wasn’t even talking about that.”

“Yezi piss off, I’m busy.” My eyes focus on the chats sliding up by every new incoming message. 

Trying not to mind the drunk gaze that heavily lingers on, I try to focus on the chats. I finally relax and we fall in deep silence. She takes selfies with her items while I chat on, but then she stops, her eyes looking back occasionally.

"Dae," she whispers my name.

"Hmm,"

"Is it me or has that guy been looking at us?" She tilts her head nudging to the side. I follow her head and my eyes land on that guy again. This time he’s seated on one of the chairs.

He’s seating backwards on it, while leaning his drowsy head on his arms as his lazy eyes directly rest on me. Our eyes meet again, and just like before, he doesn’t back away maintaining a firm stare. Aside from this present moment, a part of me feels like I’ve seen him before. His jet black hair and his buff build being contained by the leather jacket he has- only enhances his appearance as if I’ve seen him before.

"Uh let's go outside and wait for dad." I end up saying feeling a bit creeped when his eyes begin to travel down my body.

Yezi and I make our way outside instantly spotting one of our dad's black vehicle’s pulling in. "Thank the heavens." Yezi begins jogging towards the car, while I take my time walking on the parking lot- afraid I might slip with my high boots if I run.

However I quickly regret my decision when hearing faint whistle sounds. My head turns to the side spotting an almost faded rusty car, with some guys whistling out. “Yes babygirl, fuck, yes,” A guy moans out looking at me. “Just like that, fuck-”

“Shut the hell up.” The bitter tone of my dad can be heard resonating out the car, and I can only assume he’s talking to the boys because no sooner then later, they let out mocking laughs.

“Fucking sexy girl,” The rude insolent boy comments again. Getting to the car, I finally get in the front seat hearing the boys whistling grow louder in praises. “Yes baby,”

“What- what-” My dad’s about to get out his seat and open the door but I close it shaking my head. As irritating as it is, I can’t have my dad about to lose his mind on his day off.

“Dad, just ignore it. They’re a bunch of low, poor class, hooligans who don’t deserve an ounce of our energy.” I fiercely comment. “Are you really gonna get mad, when they’re car looks like that? They’re not worth it dad. It’s okay.”

My dad’s sharp glare leaves the window as he takes a deep breath and looks to Yezi behind. Yezi’s eyes immediately calm down and she tries to change the atmosphere in the car. “Dae’s right dad, besides look what I got! San threw it to the crowd and I caught it!” She announces brightly- easily getting my dad to smile tightly. The anger and irritation still evident on his face- yet it fades for Yezi’s sake.

"What did you get?" He asks with a clear genuine interest, even though his eyes shoot glares towards the car once more time before he drives off. Meanwhile the question sends Yezi over the top as she basically starts to yell about the event pointing at her items. 

My dad laughs surprisingly being stunned by the ‘shirt’ Yezi caught, as he drives out the venue. I look out the window shaking my head and not wanting to listen. I end up making eye contact with the guys who made those idiotic comments. One of the guys licks his lips and sends me an air kiss. I fake a smirk his way giving him the middle finger mouthing out 'fuck yourself' before rolling up my tinted window.

He laughs and slowly waves.

Creeps.

Minutes before...

A luxurious black Range Rover slowly drives past Haechan’s small red and rusty old car, catching his attention behind the wheel. He stares at the big car as it drives past and stops by a parking space. “This is it.” He mumbles.

Something about the way this car carries itself turns Haechan on.

"What a sexy car," Haechan's cold eyes checks out the car mumbling out praises. Sternly looking at the black posh Range Rover he adjusts himself on his seat wanting to see clearer. "Mark, Mark look at the car, look at the car." He whispers out.

Mark, on the passenger seat adds more ‘relaxation’ to Haechan’s high when he blows gusts of weed into the air, before placing the bunt between his lips inhaling again. With all the windows up, the smell lofts around the car leaving the boys in all zooted smiles and high. Mark turns to the spotted car that Haechan motions to and sits up.

Just like Haechan, he’s struck by the glossiness of the car. Seeing the lavish car, his head lights up with another idea. “This night is already beginning with a bang.” Mark comments. 

In the back seat Renjun, Haechan's adopted brother, tries to sleep with his head against the window, with his neck in an uncomfortable angle as he half listens to what the two in front were talking about, while also keeping his nose stuffed in his mask to avoid the weed smell. Unlike Mark and Haechan, Renjun only wanted a ride from campus and back home, and was not a part of their crew. To his surprise, he was dragged everywhere and witnessed the menacing actions and robberies his brother performed.

The two juvenile boys, Mark and Haechan watch the car as their minds wonder darkly in the same orbit. They give each other mischievous smiles, having the same idea. "Are you in?"

"Let me finish my bunt," Haechan snickers just as Mark puffs out another wave of smoke out in the car. “Here comes Jeno, he looks drunk as fuck.”

Jeno, Mark's young brother stumbles into the rusted car in silence. 

“Geez man, how much did you drink?” Mark turns to his brother in the back seat catching his drowsy state. Before Jeno can answer, his eyes look out the front window getting a glimpse of the last two young girls leaving the center and going towards a Range Rover. A few minutes ago, he found himself inside the building drinking can after can without his brother’s watch, meanwhile his eyes also kept still on the two girls lounging around. Most specifically, he kept his eyes on a girl named Dae. His mind wondering around on how it must feel to be rich.

"This night keeps getting sexier, look at those girls Haechan," Mark breathlessly chuckles.

Mark’s gaze holds onto the girls, or rather the one trailing behind with her arms folded and her hips moving hypnotically. Her skirt is short and shows a portion of her milky legs, and the way she walks seems almost too purposely- otherwise his pants wouldn’t be bugging so much. Maybe it’s the weed, but he’s pushed into ecstasy wanting to have the girl. 

“I need to have that,” He opens his door, stepping a foot out, leaning over the doorframe and begins whistling. “Hey babygirl, come over for a bit?”

“Mark get in the car-” Haechan starts laughing when the man in the fancy rich car gives them a sharp look, glaring at them. 

Mark, despite the warning, ignores the gnawing and death eyes of the man continuously cat calling the girl. “Yes baby fuck, yes,” He moans, his hand patting his bulging member. “Just like that-” Profanity words can be heard from the car however that doesn’t stop Mark from hooting his mouth towards the girl, leaking his lustful comments. The girl even goes further to ignoring him. “Fucking sexy girl,” The moment she gets into the car Mark- like the dog he is hypes her every moment whistling out and praising her. “Oh yes, yes, yes, bend that body for me. Oh- oh yes, just like that, fuck. Yes baby,”

The posh car abruptly stops once the girl closes the door and Mark can see the man in the car trying to come out. Must be the father. Mark takes on the challenge now directing his attention to the supposed father. “Big boy wanna come out? Come out big boy,”

“Idiot,” Haechan is bowling in laughter when Mark gets back in the car, closing his door shut chortling a little when nothing happens.

“2 baddies,” Mark comments inhaling the bunt getting high  again. “And a grumpy man,”

“Mark you fucking shit head.” Haechan finally calms down from his goofy laugh. He drinks his last can of beer in one big gulp letting out a strong groan by the substance hitting his throat bitterly- yet tasty. “Let me get in on some of  that,” He sticks his hand out to Mark, who offers him to take a huff and puff of his weed. Haechan gives back the stick shaking his head exhaling out.  

Haechan rolls down his window with force while applying speed wanting to see the fuming pretty girl in the massive car more clearly. Mark chortles rolling down his murky window too, wanting to see her face. "Ah, fuck, she’s so sexy," Mark puffs out from his weed bunt again. "Jeno you seeing this?"

Renjun’s eyes are grave serious when looking at the mess the two boys in the front wheel caused. “Is that Dae? What the hell are these two idiots doing cat calling her like that?” He quietly asks to Jeno, who’s is extremely quiet yet drunk. “You need water.”

Jeno watches on, stuffing his hands in his leather jacket while looking out the window to the car and ignoring Renjun's words.

"She's looking, she's looking," Haechan gets on cloud 9 sitting up on his seat and blows her an air kiss. Jeno in a calm daze watches her, she casually throws her middle finger up in the air. 

"Who taught her to do that?" Mark asks taking a whiff of his bunt and puts it in his mouth breathing in. “Rich bitch,”

Haechan laughs bitterly, "Daddy's little rich princess."

“I’d love to be her daddy,”

"Can you guys stop that. She’s got enough intel to call the police on you guys. Her and her father." The 'sleepy' Renjun states in a raspy sour voice as he watches the girl in question roll-up her window. He suddenly sits up groping his neck in pain. “You should just be lucky they didn’t get your number plate.”

"You know the girl?" Mark asks in bewilderment.

"Yes. Dae, proud, top of her class, rich, narcissist. We go to the same college," He enlightens both Mark and Haechan. “Her father is a real pioneer. He’s known to have built some faculty buildings on our campus, as well as upstate houses and penthouses in extremely rich areas.”

“He said rich right?” Haechan chortles. “Rich bitch,”

“I don’t know about rich, but I would love to teach that brat a lesson,” Mark scoffs throwing his finished bunt out the window, already beginning to roll up another one. “She should learn to respect her elders,”

"Let’s just go home." Jeno speaks up with an irritated throat and throbbing head, either trying to deprive the older ones dirty thoughts into something else or, away from Dae.

The Range Rover already begins to drive out the entrance gate, causing Donghyuck to quickly start up his own small car, with a little rustle his car starts. “We’ve been waiting all afternoon for something. Should we follow it?” He peeks in Mark’s direction who nods his head.

Haechan and Mark exchange quirky looks again recalling their initial plan.

While Jeno and Renjun share worried looks, Renjun is the one to voice out a question that seems to already be answered the moment the car starts moving in a similar direction as the classy car. “Donghyuck, what are you doing? Why are you following the car?”

"If it’s not already clear,” Donghyuck, just a few cars behind the black vehicle watches as it takes a left turn to a road he’s never gone on before. “I want that car."

"Don't forget to do the dishes Yezi!" Mum reminds while forcing her foot in a pair of white heels going together with her sun dress. “Do I look okay?”

I nod my head watching her frantically moving around her wardrobe looking for a scarf or jacket.

"Don't forget okay. I left sticky notes on the fridge and in the cooking book." Mum says running around her room making sure all her stuff are in her carrier bag. “Don’t leave Daegal outside, nowadays she seems to like being outside,”

"Don't worry mum, Yezi and I will be fine. Besides, Dad will be here." I point behind her to dad who's putting on his black blazer. “It’s not like we’ve been left motherless before,” I darkly joke, causing dad to peek up from his phone shaking his head. “What? Too soon?” I chuckle.

“Yes honey I will be here, stop freaking out,” Dad states while going back on his phone. “She’s arrived at the airport, c’mon let’s go.”

Him and mum are going to the airport where Mrs Chittaphon is at.

Mrs Chittaphon mentioned that she was going to China for a few weeks and offered to take mum along with her, dad gladly accepted on mum’s behalf. It was exciting at first since dad thought he could go too, but Mrs Chittaphon sternly said she wanted mum, so not wanting to ‘disappoint’(?) Mrs Chittaphon she agreed to going. Still scary and shocking since they don't get along that well, but my dad assured mum that it would be a bonding experience.

Escorting mum with her bags, we follow dad out to the garage as he selects a car. Switching on the brown Jaguar with the remote he opens up the boot while mum and I fill the boot with her bags. Our little dog, Daegal barks around the tires of the wheel keeping my dad in a smiling trance as he looks down at her. Daegal loves this car the most. This is like a special car for them, since this is the car he had when he was still in the dating phase with my mum and he got Daegal for the first time too.

Yezi finally comes out the parking with silk pink pajama shorts and a merch t-shirt with a face of one of the guys we saw today... it’s probably the shirt they tossed out and she caught. When we came back from the venue Yezi went straight to her room, posting pictures and unwrapping her merch. She has been there ever since asking for nobody to disturb her, but yet as soon as my dad starts the car she's out the house. She gives dad a tight hug and walks over to us. She smiles and gives mum a big and tight hug. "Have fun in that country with no internet. We'll miss you and also thank you for letting me go," she let's go of mum and looks at me sticking out here tongue. "I hate you and I still think you're annoying."

"The feeling is mutual." l I can't hide my grin. I know Yezi loves me. “Isn’t that the cleaning supply husband you wanted to marry?” She hits my shoulder mumbling profanities going back in the house.

"Guys don’t fight.” Mum lets out closing the boot and turning to me. “I guess this is it," mum says.

"Don't say it like that, we'll see each other in like a few weeks time." I open the front door for her and she gets in. I bend down to see dad in the car busy with Daegal on his lap while massaging mum’s hand.

“Why are you shaking,” Dad laughs teasingly. “Daegal, why are you shaking? I wanna know, I wanna know,” He plays with the dog on his lap gently setting her in the backseat. I guess he's taking her with him.

"Dae make sure to lock the house and close the front door, I left it open for Daegal to enter, but she’s already here. Make sure Yezi sleeps on time, she's got a bad habit of sleeping past midnight," Mum says rubbing her hands together looking to dad. "Okay,"

"I'm coming soon." Dad says and drives out. I head back in the house looking at the control panel waiting until I hear the car out the driveway. Meanwhile I switch on the lights outside. When I hear the car drive out I press the button that closes the garage.

Haechan's car comes to a stop, parking down the road and away watching from afar. They’ve been seated in the car for some time, simply taking in the view of the enchanting residence. The neighborhood is built on exquisite land and even the air itself smells different. All the boys in astonishment take in the sight of the various mansions around.

Haechan blames it on the cream sunset that slowly sets behind the dwelling place of the deluxe rich family, creating a luxurious and costly aura around the house, for him to be taken aback and in almost tears. “This is bank,” He mumbles already scheming inside his head.

The house the boys arrive at is everything one would desire. A palace, a fortress, a gold dripping tap with four stories stacked high adorning lavish balconies and vast verandas covered by gardened fence built on polished bricks- even the garden itself was cultivated, refined and neat. The design, the layout of the house, is something out of a novel, a comic book, a past that with held old money and a future that would take over the rich. The scenery itself is ingenious and and screams out rich. The house itself looks grand and high class, even the heavily guarded gates are artistic with the layers of polished Chinese ancient styled stone. 

Jeno, partly drunk looks out his window to a particular floor on the house- the one which he knows is her room. Dae. She was breathtaking and he couldn't help but become attached to her. What started off as something small, turned into stalking. He didn't consider it to be stalking until he realized that he had more pictures of her in his photography collection them anything else.

Following Renjun one time to school, he found himself becoming obsessed with Dae and her charming glow. There was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on. Although arrogant and proud, she seemed like the type of person to wear a mask of faces, and that’s what made Jeno curious about her ever since. He followed her once or twice back home escaping her glances- the days he followed her was when she would sneak some guy back to her place. Those where the only days where she’d walk from school to home. It only took one to three trips for the sight of her house to be so deeply engraved in Jeno’s mind.  

He took pictures of the neighborhood and her house, in particular her room when the curtains where open. It was tough taking from the ground level especially since the house was tilted high- but taking pictures none the less only made him fascinated, especially whenever she was by her window. He’d snap a shot avoiding any preying eyes. Whenever he would take a picture of the residence he was greatly reminded and would feel belittled by the differences between their two worlds. 

Their house itself was a stone mark of being high in status and above everyone else. In some parts, Renjun was telling the truth when he said she’s a narcissist. It came out naturally for her because her family is beyond rich and wealthy, they’ve entered god mode. It’s something she tried not to show to others lower then her, but it still showed by her appearance. She was prideful and like Haechan said, a rich princess in her daddies castle. 

“How long are we gonna sit here?” Jeno asks when the throbbing pain slowly kicks in is head. He leans forward on his seat taking the can of beverage in the cup holder. Picking it up, he drinks on it letting out a satisfied grunt. Being an alcoholic had it’s perks. He’d drink and feel woozy for a certain amount of time before returning to a hinged conscious version of himself- even though he’d still be tipsy, he’d still be conscious. Right now more than anything, he wanted to be unconscious of the actions he knew his brother and friend would take.

Mark and Haechan hold similar thoughts being, tonight would be a fortuitous night. 'The bigger the better' Mark always said. The mansion is situated on the far side and Southern hills of the city. In this area all the house's are far away from each other, almost by a bridge gap, but yet this house is steep and the highest on the hill sitting at the top. It should’ve scared the boys away, but for some reason Mark and Haechan were determined. They’ve only robbed one floored houses, and to at some point robbed apartments- yet looking at the wide spread mansion and all it’s charms, they know this is something new for them and should tread carefully. 

"Until the sun goes down. We wouldn’t want god to disturb our luck,” Haechan mumbles with lustful eyes, raping the house bare. “Rich people," He scoffs. "They just can't relax without making the rest of us feel like shit," His awestruck emotions quickly turn sour after digesting the house for way too long.

While following the Range Rover they had to refuel, almost got lost, nearly got pulled over by the police- twice! At some point there was a security border gate for the area of houses situated on the hill, fortunately for them, Mark who was already used to cracking safe boxes, put his skill to the test when entering a 4 digit code. He got it wrong 2 times, but was lucky on his third try. 

Despite all the drawbacks, it seemed like the mansion they were going to rob wanted to be robbed- nothing held them back at this point. It was all worth it since the prize would lead to a glorious landscape of house. "They've never walked a day in our shoes, might as well teach 'em a lesson," Mark runs his fingers through his dark hair that was unevenly cut with scissors.

The mansion is perfect for the plans Mark and Haechan had. Jeno, still half drunk, saw it as an opportunity to get closer to Dae and see where she lived up close. His fantasies coming to life.

"Guys this is wrong. Please can you just turn the car around and let’s go home. Please." Renjun on the other hand, the only one feeling petrified for his life, urges the boys for them to snap out of their high and return home. Never in his life has he ever gone through the motions of being mad- but right now in this car he felt as though he’d gone mad. How is he the only one to realize that this is wrong?! The only one sober and trying to wake up the conscious of the drunk and high guys. "Guys you need to snap out of it!" Renjun fusses getting quiet and then louder by the second. "You know the embassy will send me back to China if I get caught in this mess. Or worse, we could all be sent to jail! Donghyuck!”

"Jail isn't a place I'm afraid of." Haechan leans back in his seat, eyes dead set on watching the house. “Besides, we didn’t do anything yet. Stop crying like a little bitch.”

"Jeno! Don't tell me you're also going along with this?" Renjun asks his friend, confused and shocked that he too would even consider what the others were thinking.

"Renjun I’m just sitting. Please stop screaming in my ear-" Jeno pushes Renjun off his side. “Just enjoy the view-”

"No!" Renjun yells again gaining a glare from his brother in front.

"Listen here you twat. You're only here for a ride so shut up," Haechan glares at his brother from the rearview mirror.

"No Donghyuck! You know this is wrong. Mum can't handle any more of your troubles." Renjun points at the silent and not interested Mark. “Mark, do something, why are you allowing this to happen? It’s all your fault why we’re here. Just say something, anything and Donghyuck will listen to you.”

Mark thought about the fortress and also wondered about the girls, in particular the one with the stunning legs. His fantasies already playing out like a movie in his head. Waiting outside felt like hell especially since he had to bounce his knee to ignore the poking in his pants. Rolling up another wrapped weed bunt, he smoked it and let the lucid fantasies play out in his mind. 

Feeling and groping her body, her breast, her ass, those juicy thighs- tearing off her clothes from her body and slapping her around until she was red. Choking her while his fingers worked inside her slippery wet pussy. He could almost feel the stickiness between his fingers and how good they’d taste in his mouth. Grabbing her by her long hair and making her suck his long cock and-

"Mark!”

His head jerks away from the distant thoughts hearing a wailing Renjun in the backseat. “Why can’t I have my thoughts in peace?” He mutters turning his head to Haechan. “Did you really have to bring your orphaned brother here? He’s starting to piss me off.” 

Renjun abruptly cuts Haechan before he can even speak. “You turned Donghyuck and Jeno into thugs-"

"Listen up you ass whip, I didn't change anyone. The thug life chose Haechan and as for Jeno," Mark smirks at his young brother, who watches the house intensely. "He liked what I offered."

Mark rolls up another weed bunt feeling good and settling himself to be comfortable to let his imaginations wonder off again.

"Besides, do you see any police around? Live a little Injun," Mark smiles while licking the edge of the wrapper of his bunt. “Now shut the fuck up.”

"It's Renjun. And we’re all going to go to-"

"I’m gonna say this once, since you didn’t catch me clearly. I said shut the fuck up. If I repeat myself again I’ll deport you back myself to the border that you jumped over." Mark sits upright on the seat and turns to Haechan once dismissing a defeated Renjun once he’s finished making his weed bunt. "Do I look high?"

“Nah you’re good.”

“Good.” Mark nods his head stashing his wrapped weed bunt in his pocket along with a packet of cocaine from the dashboard. 

“What’s that for?” Jeno in the back asks curiously. 

“My dear brother, this is for when the fun will begin.” Mark drapes his black hoody over head. “What are we waiting for?”

"Nothing." Haechan replies leaning over to his side opening the dash panel, grabbing and gripping his pistol by its edge taking some bullets. He fixes his snapback on over his black lengthy hair, making sure his eyes are covered.

"Jeno you coming?" Mark asks.

"Mmhm." Jeno silently replies making Renjun’s jaw drop.

“I thought you said you’re not gonna-”

“I just wanna see inside the house.”

Renjun scoffs. “And you’re saying that confidently as if you know that you’ll excel in getting in the house.”

“Hey border jumper,” Mark slurs on Renjun with a cocky laugh. “If you could jump over from your country to here, what makes you think we can’t do just that?”

Renjun humphs. “Because this isn’t some country you can jump into. This is a freaking house- a house you can’t get caught in! This is Zhong Chenle’s house-”

“I don’t give a fuck of who this Zhong Zhong guy is. Clearly he’s also a border jumper-”

“He is a multi millionaire. This home is a line straight to hell if you get caught in it!”

“Clearly you don’t know me or your brother.” Mark chuckles picking at his own gun. “I gracefully walk into prison when I’m caught. Besides, what will a border jumper do to me? Haechan, I like your brother.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, finding the whole encounter between Mark and Renjun hilarious. He’s partly sober, yet also partly drunk, but one thing in his mind that’s clear, is the mansion. “That house is calling my name, are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Mark confirms and Jeno simply sticks out his thumb, taking another can of beer in his pocket.

"One more thing," Haechan says. "Let's use codes instead." 

"Mark." Mark says not bothering with a nickname knowing that none of them ever called him. “You don’t even have to call my name, just look at me and I’ll understand what you need. Jeno?”

"Uhm, I don't have one."

"How about Zeno?" Haechan suggestions making Jeno breathlessly laugh. 

“You really hate me, don’t you.” Referring to a nickname Jeno once gave himself when he was young. Zeno Zee The Zuperzero.

"Okay then Zeno and Haechan." Haechan points to himself turning to Renjun. "Stay in the car and if you wanna piss do it outside, not inside."

"What are you even saying? You guys do know you're gonna get in trouble? Big trouble. Donghyuck you can't be serious. Are you guys really going in there?" Renjun asks but no one answers him, they all leave the car treading carefully along the sides of the neighborhood before making it to the edges of the house.

“It’s either I’m high or this house is fucking huge.” Mark mumbles looking up the walls. Seeing no sharp barricades he pats Donghyuck. “Let’s climb over the wall.” 

As the wall is built on furnished stone, they find it simple to go over the wall with their climbing skills, jumping down to the soft grass. Briefly chuckling amongst themselves and preying closer to the house. 

Haechan being the lead, walks along the sides of the house deciding to move to the back. The front door was off limits knowing that they would immediately get caught, even though it was wide open they couldn't do it. The temptation too real.

The boys crouch by the wall of the house reaching a large back open space with a covered swimming pool. "How do we get in?" Jeno asks, his heart pounding loud from the adrenaline rush he felt.

“C’mon,” Haechan speaks as though he’s been around the house before. One thing Haechan always knew about breaking and entering houses, was that the layout was always the same. Small houses had joined sets, while big house had disjoined sets. Meaning that either everything was outside, or it was all inside. And by the tough exterior of this mansion, Haechan knows it’s a joined house. He just had to find another opening- and as if luck is truly on their side he spots a long drive way with a garage and right at the bottom there’s a little box. “Bingo.” He nods his head. “You got a knife?”

“Always,” Mark nods his head understanding that he needs to defuse the box, to make it easier to enter. Whether their are security camera’s or not, Mark and Haechan continue by chance. 

“What if they catch us?” Jeno asks wondering why everything felt easy.

“It’s always like this.” Haechan speaks lowly. “Rich people with such high security, don’t really think they’ll get robbed and so they don’t keep their guards up. They think that nobody else is around them- so why look around when they can only look up? The only problem, is that they don’t see the troubles down below.”

“It seems too easy.” Jeno mumbles chuckling.

“They’re never prepared for the unexpected.” Haechan speaks again. “They think, their untouchable. That they can’t get robbed.”

“What happens when we go inside?” Jeno curiously asks.

This time Mark turns to his brother with high red eyes. “Just follow us, and you’ll be okay.” Their about to sneakily run through the drive yet right on cue- the garage slides up very slowly and majestically, revealing a brown Jaguar that’s making it’s way out.

"Shit!" They all say and duck hiding themselves behind the wall and tall garden bushes. Mark spots two people behind the dark tinted windows of the car as it drives out.

"There there there!" Haechan silently yells, the boys speed up while crouching towards the open garage before it closes. Pressed up against walls, still crouching and panting hard Mark hits his brothers side, feeling ecstatic that his brother tagged along.

“Fuck yeah!” Mark whisper yells hitting on Jeno. “Nice, boy, nice.”

"Holy shit," Haechan lets out when the lights of the garage dim down and he sees what’s actually inside the garage. “Mark, fucking look at this shit.” Standing up looking around the garage, he’s joined by Jeno and Mark who peek around. The two boys look around too and their eyes light up in the car. Rows of gleaming glassy fancy rich motherfucking cars, all different brands and colors. “You gotta be shitting me.”

Haechan practically jogs to the cars touching each one and checking their brands. Mark looks around a smirk placed on his face, "I told you, the bigger the better."

Jeno bites his lips and heads towards the wall of keys. "Is it this easy?"

Haechan notices the keys and pushes his gun in his back pocket. "Damn." Haechan mouths. "Mark start working on the fuse box. We need to get the garage door open if we’re going to get them out."

"Look," Mark nudges to a door that's by the corner. "Fuck me, let's cause some trouble first before we go,"

“Nah, that’s too risky.” Jeno shakes his head still a bit drunk but well aware of the pressing conversation and the two boys already walking to the door. “You guys only wanted the car.”

“You pussy,” Mark laughs walking towards the door regardless. “I saw two people in the car leaving, if I’m correct it looked the grumpy man and a high class maiden with a tote hat. Let’s cause shit, come on, Zeno.”

Jeno nervously sighs feeling hot. “Shit, okay.”

"Dae!"

"What?" I ask entering the kitchen, where Yezi's washing the dishes. I open the fridge taking out a can of cold drink.

“Those guys at the parking lot were pretty rude.” Yezi mumbles. “Are you okay?”

I turn to Yezi hearing her concern and feel a bit touched. “A bit disgusted by it, but I’m okay. I just hate that dad had to be there for that,”

“Did you see his face?” Yezi asks peeking at me with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen him look so dead ass cold. He even stopped the car ready to jump out and fight.”

“He was about to explode, I know.” I lean on the counter shaking the image of  my dad in anger out my head. 

“Low life boys are such fucking pricks. Which is why try your best to keep up the standard when it comes to guys. No disorder, just respectable men in suits with paper. I don’t even wanna marry a guy from here, I want a man from Thailand,”

“Those pricks in the car could be from Thailand.”

“Ew no. They weren’t from Thailand, you could see them, they’re from here, the disgusting and filthy side though. I want a respectable intelligent Thailand man.” Yezi states blissfully. “I mean, a respectable man who prides himself yes, but also a man who isn’t all about intellect. No.”

“What? Why?” I question.

“Because I want to have fun. And a guy who’s studied his whole life, won’t understand when I tell him ‘we should have fun’. He’ll look at me and say I’m a child.” Yezi reasons. “For example, that sugar daddy guy Kun, the one you were dating,”

“It was just a fling, we weren’t dating. What could he offer me that dad hasn’t already gotten me?” 

“Uhm sex?” Yezi laughs.

I shake my head blushing at the mention of him. A nice sweet rising businessman who wanted to spoil me rotten with gifts and everything money can buy.

Yezi’s eyes widen. “He was so fucking hot and he knew how to have fun. I wouldn’t mind him taking care of me for the rest of my life. I want someone like that, chilled and not too serious but still respectable and decent enough for dad,”

That makes me laugh. “I think dad’s a bit disappointed that I didn’t want to take over the family business. So I’m gonna have to pass on a man taking care of me. I need to sustain myself and prove to dad why I chose journalism,”

“Uhm because you suck at math? Thought it was obvious,” Yezi jokes around. “I also don’t want anything to do with architecture. You better pave the way nicely for me,”

“What do you want to do?”

“Duh, a man who knows how to have fun? That’s what I want to do.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I’ll cross that bridge when I’m there. Hey by the way, where's Daegal? Mum left the front door open for her, but she still hasn’t come in,"

"Dad took her. Please don’t forget to close the door," I mumble yawning a little. "I'll be in my room."

"Wait, wait. Dae, look over there by the corner," she motions with her head to the window. I walk to her being confused by her stricken face. Looking above the sink window out to the street below, right across the street at the far end there's a small car, all rusty and crispy.

"What's wrong?" I ask shrugging my shoulders opening my can.

"Its on our street, dad didn't call any one over and Mrs Chittaphon isn't here, so who is that?" She asks watching the car. She washes her hands wiping them with the cloth. She goes out the kitchen into the living room, I follow her just in time to see her sending a silent alarm to the police station.

"Really Yezi? Like seriously? Dad's gonna be pissed. That isn't a toy you can just play with you know." I walk past her and to the kitchen to throw away the can while picking up a banana. I begin walking up the stairs eating the banana. “Yezi lock the garage door as well as the front door,”

“But you were in the kitchen just now, why didn’t you close the garage door?” Yezi whines.

"Because I didn’t open it,”

“Well neither did I,”

“Oh well, you’re gonna have to close it. I'm going to sleep. Wake me up when dad's back, I wanna be present when he yells at you for playing with the silent alarm," I head to my room leaving her in the living room watching TV and ignoring me.

I enter my room closing the main light switch but suddenly feel eerie when thinking of the car that was outside. Come to think of it, it looked like the crispy car from that center. Opening the twinkle lights setting the color mood to red, I pounce on my bed picking up my phone. 

Feeling skeptical again, I get off my bed and walk over to the window. Checking the window, I pull open the curtains only a little watching the car.

That car does look suspicious. All the way from the the second floor of my room, I can see light coming from the front door. Damnit, Yezi being stubborn in her not closing the door will- Before I can even close the curtains to my room to go downstairs and close the door- I catch a glimpse of a person getting out and running towards... our house. The person disappears down below and I can’t see him anymore. After waiting a bit trying to determine if I’m being paranoid for no reason, my eyes enlarge when seeing the person’s hand gripping at the top of the bricked wall and hurling himself over. Shit! “Yezi! Close the-

"DAE!" 

My heart accelerates at the sound of Yezi's blurted scream and I pounce out of my room sprinting from my floor and the long corridor all the way to the stairs. My heart bloating and swelling up as I try not to panic rapidly going down the stairs- I instantly freeze in my tracks, by the door of the living room as something cold and hard presses against my head stopping me altogether. My whole body trembles in cold sweat and I look to the side when my eyes meet Yezi's bloodshot stare in pure fear looking up to the man that has her trapped on the chair. His whole body lunges close to her with a sickening smile as she has both her hands covering her mouth. My body shivers just looking into her tears fall from her eyes as she trembles in uneasiness. The hooded guy resembles the pervert who kept patronizing me while I walked to my dad’s car, he even sounds like him.

I focus my attention on the guy who's holding the gun to my head, disgusted by that same dirty smile plastered all over his face, my mouth shakily opens up as I gasp out in horror. It's that guy from that center, the guy who was in that car. "Oh my god.”

“We decided to come out because the sun went down. We didn’t want god to see this.” He smirks. “Oh sweet cheeks, why do you look so nervous to see me?"

"Please. What do you want?" I ask holding back my tears from spilling but fail as they start blurring my vision. I gulp down the lump in my throat, yet my tears still fall over my cheeks. I back up just as he positions himself in front of me.

"Awe, where's the confidence now?" He chuckles running the barrel of the cold metallic gun down my chest and over my stomach. My body is paralyzed in a gripped dread as I feel the gun pass over my skirt before he puts it underneath and pushes the barrel in between my thighs rubbing it against my shaken core.

“Please,” I tremble when he begins to rub it while forcing both my hands above my head.

“Please what baby?” He darkly laughs whispering in my ear. “You want it?” I briskly turn my head to the side. Seeing Yezi now up on her feet visibly trembling while the hooded guy positions himself in front of her. She still has her hands covering her lips with tears streaming down her face. 

“How old are you?” The hooded guy smiles and runs his long slim fingers down her chest and over her silk pajama shorts. “16? 17? You’re so perky, I bet you would be such a good fuck.” He then positions himself behind her and wraps one arm around her abdomen before thrusting his covered member into her. Her gasp is mixed with a sob and I cry. 

“Please stop, we’ll give you anything you want, just stop please.” My croaked voice trembles to the guy who’s hands play with my exposed skin by pinching and groping my bare things underneath my skirt, yet still with his gun in hand.

"Anything? He laughs out. “I want your pretty little middle finger," he smirks. "In my mouth.” He pushes me hard against the wall with his gun now moving away from underneath my skirt and between my legs to his pocket. Freeing his hand and allowing himself continue to touch me while his teeth sink into my warm neck causing me to squirm and whimper. "You're so fucking hot you know," he whispers in my ear. I quiver as his fingers go up my exposed skin under my crop top fumbling with breast that’s covered by my bra. Cowering and shaking under his control my hazy eyes meet Yezi’s pain stricken eyes as she’s now seated on some guy I never thought was in the room.

“You still a virgin right?” The hooded guy asks to the man who Yezi sits on. The guy shamefully nods his head but moans when the hooded guy stretches open Yezi’s legs and grips her hand forcing her to palm the man underneath her. “You can’t have a big boy body but have never been touched before. Come on girly, make my brother feel good.”

“No!” Immediately I push the guy off me with shock strength panicking and coming back to my senses. He stumbles back but gets back at me with speed slapping my face tightly. 

“Don’t play with me rich bitch,” The guy in front of me warns forcing both my hands up.

"Haechan she's mine," The hooded guy says forcing Yezi up with a playful smile. “Take this one, she’s a fucking virgin. She’s still tight.”

I now notice that the other guy in the room is the same guy from the center. My eyes widen when I do realize that it is truly him, the one who was watching me while drinking. He palms himself before taking something out his pocket- a beer can and opening it. Drinking, my eyes watch his adams apple and I’m stunned that it’s actually him. Silently observing, he sits on the chair shaking his head and ruffling his hair groaning out. I should've known from the moment that I saw him that something bad would happen. But not only that- he looks familiar again.

“Dae! Dae!” My eyes snap to Yezi who’s now being forced on her knees while the hooded guy lifts his hoody and starts fumbling with the belt on his pants.

"Please let go of me!" My attention is forced to the guy with a snapback. I try to push him away but he pulls out the gun and straight into my mouth. 

“What’s wrong?" He dangerously whispers in my ear with a cold laugh. “I thought you had a sugar daddy. You should have experience in this stuff. Be a good rich bitch and open your legs,” he leans in closer to me again his hands going back to where they were. I bite my lip feeling the urge to beat him away from me.

"NO!" Yezi shrieks out loud when the hooded guy grabs a handful of her hair, leaning down and whispering to her.  "NO! PLEASE DON'T!" Yezi urges in piercing screams. 

Finding fear strength again, I sharply knee the guy in front of me in the groan and he doubles over yet grips the gun to my head.

"Fuck. Why’re you being so difficult sweet cheeks, just give me what I want and I'll let you and your sister go." He says. I spit on his face and try to run to Yezi but the guy grabs a handful of my shirt pushing me back to the wall roughly. "You fucking cunt. How dare you spit on my face?" He whips of my spit, pressing me harder to the wall.

Yezi screeches and fights the hooded guy with her hands and legs- the adrenaline finally kicking in her when she tries to resist the man with his belt open. The guy is strong and rapidly turns her around and plants her face roughly to the pillow on the chair. "I like rough sex, so if that’s what you’re into I’ll gladly comply. So stop squirming!" he says and then looks at me pulling down his hoody. "I wanted your sister, but you’ll have to do." I gulp feeling all the nerves in my body heighten. “You’re gonna watch me fuck your sister.”

"Zero get me something to tie this girl up." The guy in front of me says. The guy on the couch, Zero, gets up and walks out to the tv set, ripping out  the cables from the various power supplies coming closer to me. His eyes are hooded and he looks a bit unstable- he’s drunk. Now that I think of it, they all look like their not conscious with their red eyes and uneasy postures.

Haechan grips both my hands and uses the cable ropes from the TV, that the Zero guy hands over. “Haechan, don’t tie it too tight.” Zero mumbles out to the Haechan guy in front of me.

"Alright here's what's gonna happen," Haechan presses himself against my back leaning to my ear. "Show me daddy's possessions and goods and then I let you go okay sweet cheeks?" My face is red as all the blood and tears rush up. Regardless I nod and he pulls me up and pushes me out the living room but I bump into another body and both me and the person scream out.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GUYS DO!!?" We all get startled by the loud voice. The hooded guy and Haechan rapidly turn with their guns ready to shoot. I turn to look up at the guy in front of the living room entrance and see a panicked looking guy- Renjun?

"Renjun!" I call out his name and try to escape to him but Haechan's hand grips my shirt and brings me back to his hard chest.

"DONGHYUCK WHAT THE HELL! YOU SAID YOU ONLY WANTED THE CAR-" Renjun is on panic mode and looks to all the guys in the room. His breathing is uneven and he grabs his hair.

"Oh great the border jump decided to join. Haechan handle your brother before I do." The hood guy says. I look to Yezi noticing that the Zero guy ties her hands behind her back with her legs also in the process of being tied. She squirms and shakes but the hooded guy holds her down firmly with the pistol in her mouth. He looks up and smiles at Renjun. “Came to  have fun?”

I look back at Renjun whose eyes are wide open and his hands are still on his hair. Is he confused at what's going on? "Renjun do something please!" I yell with a trembled tone.

"JENO WHAT THE HELL?! DONGHYUCK! MARK PLEASE LET HER GO! YOU GUYS ARE GOING TO JAIL! HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GUYS EVEN GET IN?!" Renjun yells walking over to Haechan, who points the gun towards Renjun.

"How the hell did you get in? Don’t tell me you walked in the front door like a little bitch. I told you to stay in the car!" Haechan says pushing me back and I stumble falling to the ground- into the arms of the drunkard Zero guy. He pulls me down on the chair laying my back flat. I'm about to scream but he forcefully puts his hand against my mouth. 

"Don't scream I’ve got a fucking headache already. I won't hurt you, I promise. Just don't scream please, please." He begs in a whisper tone looking sincerely tired.

My tears slowly start to come out and I can't handle or control the flow that leaves my eyes while hearing the two boys fighting. Now there are four boys in total. Renjun, the one complaining and fighting, Zero (or rather Jeno as Renjun called him) the drunkard, the one hooded guy called Mark, who’s sitting by the edge of the chair smiling at the two fighting. And finally the ‘sweet cheeks’ guy Haechan. My heart pants when Haechan grabs Renjun by the collars before harshly punching him down.

“Give him another one!” The Mark guy cheers Haechan on. Haechan gets on his knees holding Renjun’s collar again. “Come on border jumper, show him-”

Suddenly the house makes a noise, making everyone fall dead silent. It sounds like the doors and windows are closing, imprisoning us! Haechan gets up moving to the curtains by the corner living room pulling them open. I see the metal bars locking the house and I gasp- the control panel. Snapping my head to the control panel I see the Zero guy with his finger on one of the buttons! He pressed on it, the lock down button.

"What the hell is happened?" Haechan asks with befuddlement.

"Calm down it's just on lock down mode." The Zero guy says breathing out. "There's bars around the windows and main doors leading to the outside.”

Haechan moves back to Renjun. “Take your ass back in the car and wait for us. We won’t be long-”

“Speak for yourself Haechan, my dick is loaded-”

"Fuck you Mark!" Renjun gets up on his feet again glaring at Mark before turning to Haechan again. "Donghyuck this is serious, if we don't-"

"Stop saying my name." Haechan lands another punch on Renjun’s face and I shut my eyes crying out. I can hear Yezi crying out when the Mark guy on the end of the couch leans closer and slaps her butt. His knee sinks on the couch and he places his body on top of hers with a dark chuckle-

Bzzzzzz

All heads turn to Jeno who looks back to control panel when the buzzing sound comes again, it's the outside buzzer connected to the monitor panel. He presses on a button and waits.

'Hello? Mr Zhong Chenle?’

Oh my soul! It's Officer Suh Johnny from the police department. I hope he didn't come alone. My heart raises up in anticipation.

Renjun raises his hands to his hair ignoring the blood that slowly travels from his hair over his head as he crouches down, a string of curse words leaving his lips. “Donghyuck-”

“Shut up you bitch.” Haechan growls out and in an instant draws closer to me, pulling me up and heading towards the speaker pushing the Zero guy away. He places the gun on my head again pushing it against my head. He breathes heavily in my ear, "If you dare defy me I will blow your brains out and rape your sister. Do you hear me!" I rapidly nod not having time to think about it. "Answer it." Haechan leans close and presses the ‘answer’ button on screen. Johnny’s face appears on the screen taken from the outside camera.

"Ye-s he-llo," I say trying to make my voice come out natural as possible.

'Miss Dae is that you?' The male police officer asks.

I look to Haechan and he nudges me to answer. "Ye-es it's, it's me." I squirm a bit, making Haechan angry he pushes the gun harder against my head making me cry.

'Miss Dae what's going on? Are you okay?' He looks around concerned.

I think of a lie quickly and answer, "Yes I'm okay- it's just it's just, I'm watching this movie with Yezi and it's so sad." I lie holding in my tears.

The police officer seems to believe it as he smiles a little. 'I understand. There was a silent alarm sent to the department and I was close by deciding to check on you guys. Is everything alright?'

"Tell him it was an accident," Haechan whispers in my ear- strangely calm as if he’s used to this.

"It was an accident." I repeat.

'That's okay this happens all the time, but may you please come to the gate for a bit.' I look at Haechan who shakes his head. 'There seems to be an abandoned pick up trick on your street and your house is under locked.’ The officer says seriously. ‘Are you sure everything's okay?'

"Tell him some people are fixing the lights," I repeat what Haechan says.

I look over to Haechan who looks tense and looks over to the couch. I follow his gaze watching the hooded guy get off Yezi with a gun in hand. They eye each other down before the hooded guy nods, hastily taking off. Haechan presses a button- the unlock button- and the house starts to unlock itself.

“OFFICER SUH! THERE ARE 4 MEN IN THE HOUSE! PLEASE WE NEED HELP!”

Haechan’s eyes enlarge the moment Yezi yells out. “MARK FUCKING SHOOT THE POLICE!” Haechan yells out and ditches me running out of view the same place Mark ran to. The Zero guy quickly comes and stands next to me as we both watch the screen of Johnny on full alert with his gun positioned forward as he looks at the gate. 

“OFFICER SUH RUN THEY’RE COMING-” Jeno is quick in shutting me up frantically covering up my mouth with his whole arm while he forces me back.

BANG! 

A gun fire breaks out but I can’t even see where it’s from as Jeno drags me back.

BANG! 

Mark shoots again from far sprinting forwards when he sees he’s landed a shot. The gun fire echo's around the whole house and also around the quiet deserted street. Mark uses the front door to escape running down the driveway before reaching the house entrance gate, he holds the gun steady in his hand and watches the police male figure try to crawl away. He doesn't get far, only two walking feet away and Mark chuckles.

Officer Suh Johnny holds onto his radio by his collar still pushing and dragging his body forward. The thoughts running in his mind is to protect the girls and send backup quick. "Back up.. please. Mr Zhong's residence. 4 men. Pick up truck aban1doned. 2 girls inside. Hurry. I've been hit."

Mark watches with fascination, the thought that the police had a shot at escaping death makes him chuckle.

Haechan appears at the doorway seeing Mark between the bared gates at the end of the walking way. He runs to where Mark is and his eyes fall to the police officer. He looks over at Mark, who's still smiling and looking at the male. "What the fuck Mark. He's still moving." Haechan says calmly. “Kill him already.”

"He won't get far," Mark smirks and points the gun once again aiming for his back unaware of the bulletproof vest.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

While he shoots, Haechan watches the officer. “He’s got a bullet proof vest.” Johnny’s back arches obviously in pain and he wiggles on the floor, a crimson color of blood trailing behind him as he still wiggles and moves on the floor - trying to get away.

"Damn, he's strong 5 bullets and he's still going on. Wow, what it means to be a fighter." Mark pouts his lips loading his gun again with an evil smile and red high eyes looking ahead in delight. 

“Shoot his head.” Haechan says. “We need to take care of those bitches fast and leave.”

“Let's see how many it'll take to finish him." Mark is deaf to the rest of Haechan’s words and aims his gun at the polices head. “You ever seen a head explode Donghyuck?”

“No.” Haechan shakes his head still with his eyes trained on the wiggling police officer who was now closer to his car.

“I have.” Mark’s lip twitches in a pained smile that’s quickly covered by his horrendous laugh. “It was my father’s head. It bursted out like...” Mark pulls the trigger on the police officer and splatter chunks of blood spurts out. “Bang. Just like that. And I shot one more time, to make sure he was dead.”

BANG!

Similar actions are done back in the living room by Renjun as he holds onto his chest every time the gun goes off. His bottom lip trembles, and just like the crying girls he’s also in tears and afraid. Standing up in absolute fear he tries to breath but gets his heart shocked when the gun fires three more times and it becomes silent again. The silence too tense and almost tangible.

Yezi wails around the couch tears streaming down her face, Dae on the other hand didn't even budge from the floor with Jeno right on top of her. Jeno held her down with his eyes trained on the monitor screen. Dae knew that something was wrong when Jeno’s eyes widen every time a gun shot was heard. Officer Suh must’ve been on the receiving end of those bullets otherwise Jeno wouldn’t be letting out a breath of relief and grabbing his canned drink and downing down another lump.

Renjun roughly pulls his short hair back and furiously marches to Jeno pushing him back. "Jeno, they killed him. Stop drinking we need to get out of here." He pushes him again and Jeno falls on the ground- losing his balance totally- the alcohol merging with his senses. 

Dae takes her chance and tries to get up even though her hands are tied up behind her. She runs with speed to another corridor in the dark hallway, to where another monitor is. Her teary eyes see the still body of the officer on the ground with blood pouring around him and she trembles and with her tongue she firmly sticks it on the screen trying to send another silent alarm. Her tongue hazing on the screen until it’s sent. 

Her whole head snaps back when hearing Yezi wail out louder. She panics and carefully goes back to the living room seeing Haechan squeezing her neck tightly slapping her cheek again. Cowering back in fear she tries to run back to the hallway again but hits into a hard chest falling back down. Mark is in front of her with a smirk. He pulls her up by her hair clicking his tongue. “I found her.”

"You think you can get away from me sweet cheeks huh," Haechan bitterly laughs walking away from Yezi. “I was teaching your sister a lesson for opening up her big mouth. Jeno told me you snitched as well, so I think you deserve this too-” The moment Haechan reaches Dae and Mark his hand swings back and he gives her a wild back hand slap sending her flying to the ground as Mark let’s her hair go. This time Haechan grabs her hair pulling her up. “I hate when my plans go south-”

"Please! Let me go! Donghyuck-"

He slams her back on the floor before grabbing her hair and dragging her to get to the living room. He throws her on the floor once they’re in the living room again. She let her tears fall down screaming out when seeing Yezi’s red face with tiny bruises. Haechan points his gun at her and clicks his tongue. "Don't you dare say my fucking name ever again!"

"Donghyuck! What the- what the hell!?" Renjun taunts out again hurrying over to his brother gripping his shoulders. "Mark shot the police! He shot the police! You said you were gonna steal the car! Not tie up the girls and shoot the police!"

Haechan becomes silent in hearing that, the image of the police’s head being shot several times still fresh in his mind, he gulps and points the gun to Renjun. "This wouldn't have happened if you stayed in the car like I told you." Haechan says holding the gun back down. "You could've warned us that someone was coming or you could've told the police a lie!"

"What lie? That my brother went to hijack a car!"

"I didn't say the truth! I said lie! Lie! You could've lied for us!" Haechan grabs his hair feeling stressed not knowing where his 'in and out' plan would lead to. "We need to get the hell out of here before more police come. We need a plan Mark. Jeno lock the house again, just in case somebody comes unprepared."

He looks over at the girl on the couch and the older girl on the floor, he sighs and scratches his head removing his cap letting his black long hair fall over his forehead as he scratches his head. 

Breathing out he begins talking. “Right. We’re gonna take a car-”

Sirens are heard outside startling everyone in the house but not as much as the bursting gunshots that shoot from the outside.

Renjun curses ducking his head down. Yezi and Dae look around in relief thinking they're safe but it’s when Dae notices that Mark is nowhere to be seen that she begins to panic. Especially with Jeno leaning on the wall watching the monitor, struggling to stand straight still downing the last bits of the can before smiling. “Mark is fucking awesome.” He whispers out. The sirens stop but the gunshots continue on. After some time the gun stops too.

Dae's view:

The hooded guy appears by the door, looking jolted, signaling Jeno to lock the house. Jeno presses the button and looks around as the house makes the imprisoning sound again.

"Yah! Mark what the fuck? Were those sirens?" Haechan quizzes.

"I don't know." Mark leans on the door putting more bullets in his gun. He pushes the gun in the front of his jeans, he pulls up his jersey revealing another gun, he pulls the other gun out and puts bullets in that one too. I watch his actions, afraid that he might kill Yezi and I. "I pretended to be a fucking gardener and they said another silent alarm was sent." Mark scoffs. "It's either that or that dead cop called for backup."

Haechan eye's immediately snap to mine.

"Another silent alarm was sent. Oh fuck I hope you had nothing to do with it sweet cheeks." He comes close to my face pulling me up to my feet his black eyes burning into my brown eyes. "Aggh!" He throws me back on the floor making Mark quickly hover above me. He makes me sit down properly and rubs my back lightly.

“Don’t worry baby girl, there’s nothing to be afraid of. Are you okay?" Mark darkly chuckles laughing out. Why is he laughing as if everything is funny? His red eyes, show how high and wasted he is, just like Jeno who can barely stand straight. My body shakes by his touch and I gasp out when leans his head and dives straight for my neck. I close my eyes and twitch a bit when his teeth nibble on my skin, as his hand immediately spreads my legs while his palm cups my-

“Mark you can’t be serious- we’re about to get caught in a cross fire and you’re fucking making out with her?” Haechan questions pacing around. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" Haechan yells out. Pulling his dark hair back. He puts on his cap backwards and sits on the couch.

"Jeno tie her legs up." He points over to me. "Put that one in a room," he points to Yezi.

"What? After all that's happened you still-"

"And I certainly don't want you around!" He points to Renjun dead shot. "You're gonna keep an eye on that girl and Jeno, watch her." Haechan bosses around. "Put them in separate rooms. Mark and I are gonna scoop the place, get what we can and fill it in a car. When we’re done, we leave." 

“Be good baby girl,” Mark gets up following Donghyuck, not before patting my head.

Jeno and Renjun are silent but soon obey.

"Now how do I carry her?" Renjun asks looking at Yezi, who looks like a net.

Jeno picks me up gently putting me up on my feet. I look back at Renjun who's trying to lift her up. Renjun’s soft eyes turns to me, his eyes in pain as he looks at me and Yezi's hands tied. He looks down with shame. "I'm sorry.."

I'm unable to reply as Jeno pushes my back.

"Lead the way to your room," his deep voice makes me shiver. I walk slowly, climbing the steps.

"I like your style, I couldn’t stop looking at it at that center," he says very quietly. The alcohol can be smelt from his breath. I look down, seeing my crop top exposing my bare stomach and my high skirt exposing my bare legs.

S1:E8-15

Zhong Chenle's pov:

"Please take care of the house and the girls and-"

"Don't worry, my love. Everything will be okay." I kiss her lips softly drawing her body near, ending with a sweet peck. "Now go before Mrs Chittaphon takes the flight without you. It’s a miracle she waited for you." We both turn our heads to where Mrs Chittaphon is by the terminal gate staring at us. Seeing that our attention is on her, she turns around and is out of sight.

"Shoot." Chungdae laughs kissing my lips again before quickly walking off.

"I love you!" I scream out waving my hand. She turns around her face pink, revealing a row of nervous perfect teeth. She blows out a kiss and I cringe while catching it and looking down at the heart before shaking my head and placing it in my front pocket. Knowing she’s expecting one back, I peck the palm of my hand and blow it out towards her. She catches it like a giddy little girl before speed walking to the terminal gaze. Standing in place simply watching her until she’s out of sight I breathe out feeling suddenly empty. I already miss her and the aeroplane hasn’t even yet taken off.

We were under the impression that the plane would leave exactly at 7pm, so by 6.30 we were already pulling into the parking lot (as our home isn’t that far from the airport) to our surprise the plane is said to leave at 8pm. The reason we even came late instead of at 5pm like Mrs Chittaphon suggested was because Chungdae didn’t want to spend hours talking with Mrs Chittaphon. But even though coming late, she still has a hour hour and 30 minutes to chat with Mrs Chittaphon.

Oh well. Two weeks. I’ll see my wife again in two weeks. 

I get to my car moments later getting myself some coffee, seeing how two lurking people are staring at my car. "Daddy look, is this Jaguar as fast the real Jaguar?” The kid’s eyes light up as he bounces up and down. “The Jaguar! The Jaguar!" The boy's father looks over at me smiling an embarrassed smile taking a hold of his son’s hand who was about to touch my car. 

I return an awkward smile and get in the car thankful that the little boy didn’t set a print on my car. Making myself comfortable and seeing Daegal still sleeping on the passengers seat, I place the little treat bag on the chair and turn on the engine. Wanting to be bit spontaneous, I put on a show for the little boy by making my engine roar to full maximum power.

As expected:

The kid

Loses

His mind.

He begins to jump up and down literally screaming in joy, "Oskar vrrrr ! Oskar vrrrrr! Oskar vrrrrrrr! vrrrrr! vrrrrr! vrrrrr! vrrrr!~~" he chants aloud bouncing around his father.

His father gripping him trying to bring him back on Earth. I laugh silently carefully driving out the parking spot and eventually out on the road, pushing down on the accelerator making my car go as fast while passing the other cars on the highway. Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I peer at my phone that’s planted by the phone grip. I press long on it’s side turning it on. I chuckle to myself when thinking of my wife and how she always nags about me having a phone when I hardly even use it. While it switches on, I turn on the radio switching through the channels to find any music station as my CD record has no CD’S of my taste whatsoever- most likely because of Yezi, it would explain those random Thai CD’s.

Upon turning the radio, my face frowns when I hear my name on one of the stations. I quickly go back, finding the chatting team.

‘From what we hear the police have barricaded and surrounded the mansion, it’s also been reported and said that his two daughters are inside with those burglars.’ The hostess speaks causing my anxiety to rise. I’m sure that I heard my name a second ago- but among hearing that two daughters are trapped in a mansion with potential burglars my heart pounds harder. Did they just say police have barricaded and have surrounded the mansion? ‘But can you just imagine the intense amount of fear traversing through the father at this moment? His own home that he built with his very hands being used as a prison for his daughters. What sick cruelty.’

‘It’s moments like this when you realize that even millionaires who try to live amongst the ordinary- still get picked on by burglars.’ A male hosts comments. ‘I personally thing it was a mistake for Zhong Chenle to pick out a situated area like that. I understand he’s humble enough to reflect that he’s richly ordinary, but maybe a more reserved area would’ve been well fitted for him and he wouldn’t be stuck in this predicament of having his daughters trapped in a building,’

Did I hear right? 

I’m not even sure because all I can hear are the heavy thuds of my heart.

‘I agree. Let’s just hope the situation gets better,’ The hostess comments. ‘This has been Build Architect Talk on 94.7 highveld stereo, send your comments through twitter on what you think about the-’

My heart races to the same speed of the car, the wind swamping through the little space of the window. I slow down the car seeing the traffic lights a few pints away. I stop at the red light picking up my phone urgently now noticing the white light that flashes through HOME LED. Oh my god.

_____________________________________________________

|*⚠3 ALERTS FROM: SYSTEM HOME

______________________________________________________

|*▶1 NEW VOICE MESSAGE            

______________________________________________________

|*↙ 9 missed calls

______________________________________________________

|* ✓ FRIEND REQUEST(s) ON FACEBOOK

___________________________________________________________

|*Yezi: Dad please buy some takeaway for us?

____________________________________________________________

|*$ Cash Transfer/Deposit

____________________________________________________________

Why are there three alerts from system home?

I click on the Alerts patiently waiting for the system to load. I breath out only expecting to be proven wrong by what I just heard from that radio station. How could the radio station be informed before me? But then how would I have been informed if my phone and any other gadget used to contact me were off- Two silent alarms sent?! My head begins to throb as I read the feedback report and the times the house was locked? If two alarms were sent on different times it means that it was not accidental and the girls sent it for valid reasons. But now reading the report of the house being locked multiple times only sends me in a frenzy. What the hell is happening? The 9 missed calls are all from different people- but none from the girls. 4 are from the police?

Speed dialing Dae’s number- her phone rings and rings until my call is directed to voice mail. I try again two more times- but they all go to voice mail. I try Yezi-

HONK! HONK!

Getting startled by the car behind and the bright green light on the traffic light I curse out. I press on my paddle at the green light speeding down the road ignoring all the speed limits and pass the other cars in a flash.

“Please be okay. Please be okay.” I mumble continuously while swerving through the other cars my heart beating on raider and loud for the whole world to hear.

I'm startled again when my phone vibrates on my lap. I pick it up immediately answe’ring the call, swerving the car avoiding accidents.

"Dae?" I call out my voice rising.

"Mr Zhong Chenle. Thank god we finally got a hold of you. Sorry for the intrusion but this is urgent-”

"I'm sorry I can’t right now- I need to get to my home-”

The guy over the phone calmly interrupts with a bold statement that paralyzes my core. "This is regarding your house with your two daughters. I think it would be best if you drove to your residence as soon as possible," The officer cuts off sternly. I hear my heart pound hard against my chest, my vision becoming blurry.

"My god what happened to them." My emotions get heightened and the words from the radio all come back to me.

"Mr Zhong please be calm everything will be okay. Drive safely and get home as soon as possible.”

Once the call cuts- I drive anything but safely on the free way continuously pushing the limits to the point where I’m even unaware of the trial of traffic cops following behind me, my only concern; that my girls are safe. It’s only when I drive into the residents housing area do I notice that on my street- a large gathering of police cars and men in uniform surround the house all proactively doing something. I barely shut the car off but all I know is that my feet are hot when running out and straight to the gate of the entrance gates. I’m about to open up the gate with my remote key but I’m hurled back by strong arms holding tightly onto my whole body.

“My girls! My girls! My girls are in there! LET ME GO!”

“Unfortunately we can’t do that.” 

A voice cuts me short of breath as I stare wide eyed to one person I’d really not like to see. 

“Zhong Chenle, CEO of G.H Constructions, the same man who evicted me and 29 other people from a main land building, all in the name of building a fucking bus station-”

“Moon Taeil, is this really necessary now?” Chenle yells out. “My daughters-”

“Yeah they’re in house, we know. We’ve been trying to reach you, but you were M.I.A. on all the calls, so we had to proceed without you. And for your information it is General Moon, respect the initial-”

“General I don’t think that’s necessary right now.” A punctual and straight voice interrupts Taeil’s ‘superior speech. I pant out frustrated when the hands of the Officers around me let me go and I turn to the new officer showing me a screen on the tablet. I dive in closer gripping the tablet seeing an image that’s been zoomed in. It’s Yezi’s window. She’s pressed against the window with a gun to her head. “The moment we tried intruding, this is what happened.”

“Tried?” I stand back looking at all the cars around. “You mean to tell me that even with the number of police officers out here- you still haven’t done anything but tried?!”

Moon Taeil steps forward with stern eyes. “Mr Zhong. We are tying to do our job-”

Staring at him in disbelief I grab him by the shoulders shaking him up. “If you’re considering this just a job then you should go! My two daughters are in there and all you can do is brag around about your new job and title? I can make one phone call right now and you’re entire career is over-”

Taeil tsks while scoffing. “You’re children are hostages in that stupid mansion and all you can think about is ruining me? Haven’t you already tried that? I wondered why you never even cared about the 29 people who were left homeless, I should’ve realised back then that it’s because you’re a narcissist. Even your own girls are there but you just want to-”

“That’s enough General Moon. You placed me in charge of this case, now with all due respect I need you off the premises effective as of now.” The Officer commands with his hands sharp out the ‘General’. He sharply turns to me with stern eyes. “Mr Zhong I need you to calm down. Engaging in trivial matters right now isn’t good for your blood pressure or ours. We need to stay clear and focus. Now if you may, follow me.”

“Who the fuck is that?” I glare at the Officer man walking away. 

Moon Taeil scoffs. “If you must know everything, he’s the man you will be answering to if you want your daughters to leave there safely. Now if you’ll excuses me, I’ve got errands to attend to. I would say all the best, but I don’t even think you care.”

I try getting a grip of myself and not allow myself to lunge at the parting General. My daughters are trapped inside the house right now, and all the barbarian officers can think about is their stupid titles and power over me. 

“Uh Mr Zhong, I’m Officer Park Jisung,” An officer appears in my face looking a bit hesitant. “Officer Na Jaemin sent me to fetch you-”

“I’m coming.” I sharply glare. “And who is he?”

“Officer Na Jaemin?” The Officer Park’s eyes widen. “He is second in command and one of our youngest military transfer. The Chief and General recruited him after an impressive take down of a kidnapping situation. He did that all by himself." Jisung chuckles. "Chief calls him a man team."

“Youngest? How old is he?” I ask before looking up and down at him, seeing he’s also young. “And how old are you?”

"Oh," Jisung chuckles again. "He's 23 years old. Don’t let the age fool you, he’s a gifted prodigy recruit straight from the highest military academy. He's got honor badges and was the top of his class, passed with flying colors and dignity. He respects and handles all situations well, so he’s age is just an age, but mentally, he’s on fire." Jisung continues rambling on about the achievements of the Officer as Chenle zones and follows in the direction the stern serious Officer Na Jaemin left to. 

After turning around several police cars I finally find the ‘Officer Na’ and make my way towards him. “Officer Na, tell me if you’ve got a way to end this right now. If not then I can make a phone call to National Security and end it quick.”

Officer Na raises an eyebrow in my direction seemingly trying to refrain himself from making a haste comment. “I understand your dying urge to save your daughters from the scene, I have kids of my own, but they’re mice and their trapped inside my apartment with a frenzy crazy cat.”

My eyes enlarge. “Did you just compare my precious daughters to your-”

“Here’s what we know so far.” Officer Na cuts throws revealing a journal with hand written notes. “You’ve got two daughters by the name of Dae and Yezi. They were in the house until they sent a silent alarm to the station around 6.57pm. By the details of Officer Suh, now in another place, he stated there was an abandoned car parked by a distance on this street. This car right here-” Officer Na turns to the vehicle on the side and I pane my eyes as well doing a double take. I’ve seen this car bef-

“My god.” My eyes enlarge. “Those perverts.”

“You know this car?” Officer Na asks and I bite my lip in fury.

“Continue with what you’ve gathered.”

“Upon checking the security footage by the neighbors house, there car seemed to have arrived minutes after yours drove in. And that was around 6.10pm. It stayed and rested there with no movements. Around 6.30pm we saw 3 boys exit the car and make a straight bee line for your house. They climbed the gates and that was the last we saw of them. Moments later we saw your gates opening and a car getting out, we assume that was you and your wife, and that was around 6.45. From our calculations between 6.45 and 6.57, 13 minutes were in between. And we assume that the 3 boys somehow entered the house, to our surprise one more guy left the car at 7.00pm and climbed the gates over and entered, resulting to their being 4 boys in total. Officer Suh, who’s now in... critical condition, arrived at your house at 7.09pm and constantly kept speaking into the monitor. He mentioned your eldest daughter Dae answered the monitor and her voice sounded shaky, he heard voices in the back and persisted to ask about the abandoned car. She stated somebody was fixing something inside, and that’s when he knew something was wrong. He offered for her to come to the front, but before any movements could be done he heard the girls over the monitor yell out that they were trapped with four boys and that they were going to kill him. Just like that rapid gun fire came his way. He sent a distress call of a hostage situation of 4 burglars and 2 hostages- from the security footage, it shows he was shot about 7 times while trying to make it to his car.”

“Where is he now?” I ask in worry. If they shot him mercilessly, how sure am I that my daughters are in ‘safe’ hands. 

“Right there in the ambulance truck.” Officer Na motions with his hand. “Like I said, he’s in critical condition.” Officer Na states, avoiding to mention that Officer Suh is now dead, after being shot on the back of his head. “After he sent the distressed call around 7.12, another silent alarm was sent 7.13pm and 4 officers we’re already on the move in 2 separate cars. Upon reaching the house and seeing the Officer Suh’s body on the ground they proceeded with caution where they met a ‘gardener’. They explained the situation and the ‘gardener’ supposedly shot out to them to which they returned in a shoot out battle, where unfortunately the ‘gardener’ had the upper hand. By now we know you have no gardener and that it was actually one of the boys. From the means of it, after searching their car, we’re 100% sure that most, if not all the boys are under substance influence as we found marijuana and weed plants in the car, multiple of beer cans scattered around and dust of cocaine on the dashboard.”

Officer Na turns the pages of his book, but I quickly ask. “What else did you find in the car? Anything about those boys?”

“We looked for anything else to identify the boys as the security camera couldn’t capture there faces- we found nothing but a school bag. Within the school bag there were art supplies and sketches and drawings of flowers and portraits of people- that’s not important, but what is important is that it belongs to a scholarship student Huang Renjun.” Officer Na points to the hood of the rusted car, were smiles files and notebooks were place. “We did background detail on him and found out he was adopted by a widow, Mrs Lee. We gave her a ring, but she was at church. She ended up calling back and we asked about her adopted son and the mishaps he caused. To which she was flabbergasted as Renjun would never do such a thing. The usual mother talk. However, as she was completely against the idea of her adopted son Renjun causing malicious crimes, she was purely certain that her own son Lee Donghyuck was involved. Lee Donghyuck, a mastermind of schemes and trouble, he’s a regular at juvenile prison. Commits minor crimes and serves his time for a short sentence, before doing the same thing. He’s a kid who’s seen trouble one too many times. And from that information we know for certain that Lee Mark is also involved.”

“Brothers?”

“No.” Jaemin shakes his head. “They first met in juvenile prison when they were 13. Know Mark, is one of those kids you never want your child to come across. Buys and sells drugs to minors, is always in possession of illegal cocaine and  frequently gets into fight with anybody that looks at him. So it’s no brainer that him and Donghyuck are a match made in heaven. They were inseparable since meeting, they mixed up in the wrong crowds together, caused twice as much damage then they did alone, served their sentences together, and eventually joint by the hip by a common love for crime. Where one is, you’ll most likely find the other. So now we know for certain that Lee Mark, Lee Donghyuck and his brother Haung Renjun are there. As for the fourth guy, we assume it could be Lee Jeno, as he’s Mark’s younger brother and every time Mark isn’t with Donghyuck, he’s with his brother, Jeno. But we don’t know yet. Jeno has no criminal record, went to primary school and dropped out of high school performing side jobs here and there.”

“What side jobs?” I ask.

“He’s a self proclaimed photographer.” Jaemin answers, spreading out the printed photo’s of all the boys on top of the car. Where Mark and Donghyuck both are mugshot photos, Renjun and Jeno are seen in high school photo’s. Renjun an honor student, and Jeno a shabby looking boy who barely smiled.

“They are so young.” I mumble. “How old are they 17?”

Jaemin grunts. “These are old photos. They’re all in their 20′s currently. Mark and Donghyuck are both 21, Mark being the eldest and Renjun and Jeno are both 20, Renjun being the eldest.”

“We assume they’ve got eyes on the premises outside, partially because as soon as we tried to enter from the back, they held up your daughter Yezi by her window and we withdrew from anything further.” Jaemin says yet, he leans over the car unwrapping a white A3 folder. “As we’re talking now, a team led by my best man Officer Sungchan are hidden inside the premises outside the garage door. On my go, they’ll enter as soon as I give them the greenlights. Speaking of greenlight, are their any surveillance cameras in the house- so that we can get our setup guy to activate?”

I shake my head. “My family disliked the ideas of the cameras in the house. They didn’t like the idea of being ‘watched’ so I took them out. The only camera’s we have are outside of the house.”

“That’s okay. With your 2 daughters in there, we need to be extremely careful otherwise-”

“Officer Na! Officer Na!” 

We both turn our heads to a an out of breath officer. It’s Officer Na who grunts. “Jisung I told you to stay off the scene. And what the hell are you doing with that damn dog?”

Seeing the white fluff ball in his hands, I instantly go over and pick up dog from him. “Oh Daegal, where you sleeping in the car?”

“That’s yours?” Officer Jaemin questions with confusion before looking to Jisung. 

“I was outside off the scene like you said, but I saw Mr Zhong’s door open and I could hear a dog barking. When I went closer, I saw the dog and also-” He looks down when the large phone in his hand began ringing. “The phone keeps ringing.”

I take a hold of my phone seeing Yezi’s contact ringing on the screen. My eyes widen instantly answering the call. “Yezi-”

“Shhhh. I’m sorry sir. My name’s Huang Renjun and-” I place the phone away from my ear setting it on loud speaker for Officer Jaemin to hear. Surprisingly I can hear stone hard Chinese leave the young boy’s lips. “- telling you this to help get us out of here. I don’t know what was going on in there minds but I swear they didn’t hurt the girls. I just need help- I’m not sure how long they’ll be down there but we need help.”

Yezi watches as Renjun keeps one of his hand on the phone and the other on the cold cloth covering his bruised cheek. “Are you sure he’ll answer?” Renjun looks to Yezi on the bed still with her hands tied up. Feeling bad that she was in this situation he untied her legs and allowed her the space to cry until she composed herself. Now after having charged her phone it was 15% he opened and searched through the contact until finding her dad. She said, her dad would know what to do.

“Yes he will.” She whispers. “I saw the police outside when they pressed me against the window. I’m sure he’s there now.”

“But it’s been ringing and he’s not- oh.” He’s stunned when hearing the connecting sound.

“Yezi!”

He hears Zhong Chenle speaking into the phone and he can’t help but break out into Chinese while feeling panicked. The words flow out so fast that not even the people on the other hand get a grasp of a word he says. He silences down when hearing a voice over the phone.

“Listen here. I need you to calm down and breath okay? The only thing we heard was your name, Renjun right?”

“Yes.” Renjun answers in a much calmed tone while standing up pacing nervously. 

“Okay good. It’s Renjun on the phone, he somehow has your daughters phone-” Renjun can hear the voice, but the male isn’t talking to him. Meaning he must be on speaker. “Where are you now?”

“I’m in...” He looks to the girl nervously. “What’s your name?”

“Yezi.”

“I’m in Yezi’s room. They sent me here to make sure she doesn’t escape.”

“Yezi’s room?” The Officer asks and from the outside they look up as soon as they see a figure approaching the curtains. The curtains open up a little and Renjun places his hand on the window. “Hold your fire,” He hears the Officer speak. “Okay Renjun, I need you to listen to me and answer my questions. We already know you, your bother and his friend are in the house, failure to come to a middle ground will put you all in danger-”

“No disrespect sir, but I’m already in grave danger talking to you. My brother could appear any moment and I can see the police want to shoot me-”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. Relax,” The Officer interrupts hearing the panic through the phone. “Renjun remain calm okay, we’re not going to shoot you okay? Listen to me, can you confirm this? Are their 4 boys in the house?”

“Yes.” Renjun looks carefully to the door. “Me, my brother Donghyuck, his friend Mark and his brother Jeno.”

“Did you guys bring any weapons?”

“I don’t know but I saw Mark and Donghyuck with guns-” Renjun scratches his head pacing around and walking to the window again looking at the scene outside before, seeing a hand wave.

“That’s me, you’re talking to me.” The Officer comments. “Are-”

“Officer I’m scared right now, but I can’t go to jail! My mum is sick and-”

“Renjun I need you to calm down buddy, it’s alright-” 

“No it’s not- Donghyuck goddamnit. He just likes following Mark around and-”

“Lower your voice.” Yezi whisper yells in panic, feeling scared nervously looking to the door. The fact that Renjun was badly beaten on the face and shaking like a fish out of water only made Yezi more anxious that something bad would happen to him if he was caught.

“Okay I’m sorry. I got carried away for a minute- they’ll be finished in any moment.”

“Do you know what the other boys are doing now?”

“Donghyuck and Mark said something about filling up a car with materials. So I think they’re both downstairs. Jeno and I are upstairs in each of the girls rooms.”

“Were you the one holding the girl Yezi by the window?”

“No- that was Donghyuck.” Renjun answers remembering the scene. “They tied her hands and legs up, so when Jeno helped me carry her to her room, I undid her legs but she tried to run away and then Donghyuck held her at gun point shoving her to the window telling her he’d kill her for everyone to see.”

“Where’s Yezi now?”

Renjun looks back at her. “She’s on the bed, she told me where her phone was and said to call her dad.”

“You guys did good, don’t stress.” The Officer says before speaking into the radio monitor to which Renjun makes out. “Stand by.” The Officer looks back up and clears his throat. “If it’s possible, I need you to stay on the phone with me okay? We’ve got a plan, but we need your cooperation, cool?”

“C-cool.”

-

“Something’s wrong.” Donghyuck mutters looking out the creak of the window behind the blinds. As soon as they put the girls in their rooms, him and Mark searched around the place for anything valuable and began stashing it inside the car. Upon Yezi’s outburst and attempt to escape, Donghyuck warned her by forcing her against the window. His initial plan was to scare her by throwing her out- but as soon as he saw the arrival of the police cars and the officers outside he panicked. He placed the gun to her head before closing the curtains and commanding Renjun to watch her. 

When he got downstairs, he was surprised to see mugshots of himself as well as Mark. Mark was sniffing in powder of cocaine while watching the news. After much convincing for Mark to hurry up in stalking the car with materials- he found himself inspecting the downstairs window again. The police were outside...doing nothing. 

Which was strange at first, but then Donghyuck thought that maybe it was because of holding Yezi at gun point. Even so, right now there still seems to be no movement. No one is doing anything, they’re just standing outside. Plus, one of the officers keeps looking up- not to the window he’s peeking out of, but instead to one of the girls’ room- most likely Yezi.

“Yho Haechan, you need to see this,” Mark stands by the living room door. Donghyuck get’s up from his position against the wall following Mark who goes into the kitchen and then gets to the door leading to the garage and stops before peeking inside. “Look,”

Donghyuck leans against the door looking inside. The light are switched on and the large black Jeep car has the trunk open. It’s the car, they plan on taking. “Do you see that?” Mark asks.

“What?” 

“Under the garage door.”

Taking a look at the garage, my dead tilts to the side upon seeing something weird. There’s a twig like stick poking from underneath the door. “Is that...”

“A tactical electronic under door camera from Call of Duty? Yes.” Mark nods his head. “I was walking around and noticed it, I tried not to be obvious but I purposely moved around it enough to see it’s a camera. They’re watching us. Follow me again.” Following Mark we make it to the living room where the monitor is set. “I kept fiddling with this trying to see if I could turn on the garage light, and as soon as I saw this-” He points to the screen where there are buttons of: Porch, Garage, Swimming Pool, Back Yard, Veranda, Hot tub, Garden and many of the outside areas. “When I saw this, I thought is was the lights for outside, but then when I clicked garage, I saw this.”

He clicks on ‘Garage’ and surely a surveillance footage of the outside comes up. The area around the garage, the drive up path and the little bush around. 

“Check this out,” Mark points to the long thin black stream line- the same one we saw in the garage- it’s connected and it’s leading straight to the bush, where Donghyuck makes out a hand. “Do you see it?”

“They’re gonna come in through the garage?”

“I counted and saw 6 here.” Mark comes out of the garage footage and moves to the yard footage. “Counted 4 here,” Mark comes out again, while going to the next footage and the next. “Swimming pool 2, veranda 2, porch 2, hot tub, 2 and garden, there’s only 1 guy. In total there’s 19 guys around the house right now, ready to take us out.”

“I bet they’re waiting for a signal.” Donghyuck’s eyes widen and he drags Mark to the living room blind where he was. “If they wanted to take us out, they would, but look.”

“Wait a minute-” Mark leans closer squinting his. “Is that Officer Na Jaemin?”

“The parole officer?” Donghyuck going to the other side of the curtain. He can’t see the faces clearly but still sees that one officer looking up. “With one command they’ll come barking in.”

“We need to stop it.” Mark comments rubbing his red nose. The extra intake of cocaine in his system made him extra alert and attentive to any small movement around. “Is he on the phone?”

“He is.” Donghyuck answers, still wondering why they’re not doing anything. 

“Oh I know that look,” Mark laughs while looking at Donghyuck’s face structure. “We’re about to have some fun aren’t we?”

“They don’t know who we are if they think they can fuck up our plans.” Donghyuck mumbles with a pissed off tone and trudges towards the stairs- having a feeling that the Officer is surely looking at something on the window. Perhaps the same window where he threatened the girl- 

“C-cool.” 

Donghyuck barges into the room instantly catching Renjun off guard as he was talking into a phone. Balling his fist Donghyuck lunges to Renjun punching him on his already busted up face. “Fucking knew it!” He lands a fierce punch and grabs the phone placing it to his ear ignoring Yezi who cries out in the back worried about Renjun. Donghyuck points a gun towards Yezi causing her to rapidly silence up. “Get the fuck here.” He grates through his teeth at her. 

Meanwhile over the phone, he hears the familiar voice. “I assume this is Lee Donghyuck on the phone,”

“How do you know my name?” Donghyuck asks already anticipating to connect the dots to what Mark said. It really could be the Parole Officer, Na Jaemin. “You know what, let me make this quick and clear. I spotted some of your men by the garage and around the house. Get them off or I start shooting.” Donghyuck is quick to pulling the curtains open before grabbing Yezi by her neck and slamming her against the window throwing the phone after placing it on speaker and pulling out his gun. 

“Donghyuck w-”

BANG!

Yezi screams out shutting her eyes as soon as Donghyuck shoots out the glass window. “CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU?!” He yells out the window down to the officers. 

“SEIZE FIRE DON’T SHOOT! I REPEAT DON’T SHOOT!” Officer Na Jaemin yells out to the other officers, with his hands up. “Seize your fire Donghyuck! Don’t shoot!”

“Give me the phone Renjun!” Donghyuck yells out to Renjun on the floor. Like a wounded puppy, Renjun gets up with more blood pouring out on his mouth and nose as he scampers to the phone and hands it to Donghyuck. Grabbing the phone from him, Donghyuck continues to point the gun to Yezi, who’s got her eyes shut tight as she’s trembling with tears running down her face. “Get them out now or the next thing I target is her.”

“Tell him about that Officer I shoot in the head.” Donghyuck hears Mark from behind. Mark leans by the door lighting up his brown wrapped weed stick. He looks down seeing the carpet is stained with blood from Renjun, who’s face is botched up making Mark chuckle. “Border jumper, what happened?”

“He was snitching like a bitch.” Donghyuck comments for Mark to hear before talking back to the Officer. “If you think I’m bluffing, you’ll see blood flying out.”

“You’re going out of line Donghyuck-”

“I didn’t ask any questions! Get them out now and then we talk!” Donghyuck cuts the call closing the curtains- yet the wind still blows lightly on the curtains. He pushes Yezi to the ground next to Renjun before pointing the gun to the both of them. “I’m asking this once,” Donghyuck shoots the floor making both Renjun and Yezi yell out by the blowing wind of the gun shot on the floor. “Who’s idea was it to call the police?” Donghyuck asks, knowing very well that if the Officers couldn’t hear the screaming, then they most likely heard the gunshot. “Mark check on the monitor, make sure their all going.”

Mark puffs out once before leaving, he winks to Yezi on the ground. “I’ll be back for you babygirl,”

“Renjun, do you want to end up with a bullet in your head?”

-

With her hands and legs tied with a scarf that Jeno found resting around the room, Dae’s laying on her bed with her mouth stuffed with socks that Jeno found in her drawers. Ever since being placed in my room, he walked around lazily and wobbly as he tried to tie her up. His headache only irritated him more. The fact that he was trapped in a room with a girl he’s watched from afar, a girl that he had fantasies about- the fact that he was trapped with her and his head kept pounding only made him irked with annoyance. Maybe he shouldn’t have drank so much. After tying her up, he warned her not to do anything stupid and ended up going downstairs to help Renjun carry the younger sister into the room upon helping Renjun, he went downstairs (while Donghyuck ran upstairs because Yezi tried to escape) and found Mark sniffing some cocaine on the table.

“Mark we should get out of here.” He said to his brother who was down on the table blocking one nose airway while sniffing in the powdered substance from the table.

“Jeno, you’ve got a beautiful girl laying on her bed right now.” Mark started, his reddened eyes telling Jeno just how high he was. “Seize the moment, everything you want to do, simply look around and do it. You’re free. Enjoy these minutes right now, because what will happen next, will be dark. Which is why I’m preparing myself.” Getting back on the table sniffing out the lines, Jeno got up leaving Mark alone. Not wanting to confront the girl who he’s admired since, he walked into the kitchen taking his brother advice. Everything and anything he wanted to do... he didn’t want to remember hurting anybody or even remembering what his fantasies wanted to do to her- so he looked around the fridge and cabinets for anything strong like alcohol or even wine.

Getting out the kitchen, he ended up finding a wine cellar. With various flavors and brands from all around the world, this wine collection was absolute heaven for Jeno. Best part of it was that the flavors where from the weakest to the strongest. He took 4 bottles the absolute strongest and found himself in Dae’s room- chugging down the 2lt glass bottle of a bitter drink until his mind went blank. His eyes couldn’t help but admire the red mood lighting around her room. Not only did it create a dim sensual feeling but it made Jeno feel really drunk as the only color he saw was red.

He walks around her room, touching on all her stuff, opening and closing drawers either observing or blanking out. Dae’s eyes observe his every move- the fear of running away so strong but after what happened and how she heard Yezi screaming out and some bullets shooting out- she didn’t want an encounter with the person shooting the bullets. Her best option was to comply, and so far the only thing she could do was sit still and watch a drunken Jeno barely standing up straight and leaning here and there every while.

He leans forward on her desk as an attempt to get balance, but also because of a book that’s wide open. Her handwriting looked so decent and modest, as if she herself were a machine. Even in his drunken state he felt her superiority. Something as simple as handwriting showed her status and her level in society. Jeno liked that she didn’t even need to try to show how powerful she has, the air she breathed showed that she was a somebody. Picking up the book and stumbling back a bit, he trips his way over to the bed before sitting down with a hard fall. He groans from his head being dizzy before placing the book on her lap. “R-read it,” He slurs out before swinging the bottle back into his mouth.

Dae looks down to the book in her lap and back to the drunk male who could barely keep his eyes open. “Why?” She shrieks back when his body fumbles on the bed over her legs before weakly placing himself beside her.

“I said read it,” His words come out slower then before but his eyes are now open- attempting to stay open as he looks down on the page.

Taking a deep breath trying to calm her heart, her eyes scan over the words. She wrote this entry today after getting back from the meet and greet. “I swear on my entire life that I will work as hard as my father, to achieve all that I’ve reached out for. I will work my ass off until I see myself going higher instead of lower. After the sight my eyes bare witnessed to this evening, I know for sure that I never want to be poor. Upon finishing my home school studies and started attending an actual university, I was stunned by the different types of people who’ve walked crazy journey’s to get to where they were. One of the guys who I’ve recently started to get to know, was this boy from China. I mean, he’s lived here most of his life, but I found it interesting how he’s from China. His name is Renjun-”

“I knew I wasn’t tripping when I saw his name.” Jeno mumbles upon hearing his friend’s name. “Carry on,”

Dae bites her lip, feeling aware and cautious of her writing. She knows what it’ll led to but she prays that Jeno’s half conscious doesn’t hear a thing. Little does she know, Jeno’s conscious is wide awake upon hearing his friend’s name. Why would she be writing his name?

“His name is Renjun. He’s an Art student. I think he mentioned something about art therapy...Can’t you do something else? Like-huk-” Jeno’s hand lifts up to her throat, slapping it before carefully massaging yet squeezing it. Dae feels his fingers tightening on her neck and she shrieks in pain.

“Is there something wrong with your voice box?�� He questions blinking his heavy eyes. “I said read it.”

Once letting go, Dae pants out and looks down on her book feeling angsty. “Art therapy. He’s a top achiever in all his classes. On Monday, we were told that all the top achievers would be treated lunch at the ‘Royale Cuisine’. I thought it would only be the rich and smart students, little did I know that he would be there. You could just see it, he didn’t fit into our type of world, but yet he tried. As if thinking that coming to our country and working hard will get him somewhere. I hated him at first, because it was funny how he thought he had a chance, but now believe it or not, I’m actually intimidated by him, by how he thinks he has a chance. After the trip, his invalidated self came up to me and he actually spoke. I can’t even believe that he had the nerves to come and talk to someone like me. His conversation was too useless to remember but I do remembering telling him that my dad owned part shares to the school and that anything he said badly against me would only get him in deep trouble- basically just letting him know of my position above him and him below me.” 

Dae licks her dry lips feeling hot and embarrassed reading her words out loud, trying to lower her tone to one of humility, her words still strike so hard and are so condescending on their own. 

“Someone like him, can’t just walk up and talk to me. It’s humiliating and embarrassing on both hands- for me to be seen with him and for him to think he even has a chance. I watched him walk off and he went off to this other boy who I’ve started to notice more. I don’t know his name- but I’ve caught him a few times secretly taking pictures of me. I don’t want to be retarded and think he was taking pictures of me when he wasn’t- but I will say I’ve caught him on multiple occasions with a camera in his hands and aimed at me. So to make it easier for him, I walked up to Renjun and told him to take me a picture and keep it for his friend- so that his friend will stop taking pictures of me. He was confused but took it and went his way. I saw that creepy stalker again today, I saw him enter a car with other low class friends and I even think that Renjun was there. Someone like him, like Renjun, should never be allowed out of the cage he crawled out of. In their poverty stricken world, they are the dogs that scamper around for food- they are the type to run around with their brains gone and rob stores to get money so that they can even try to afford food. How can he even dream that big to think he can talk to me? That’s why I have to work hard- to make sure that someone like him will never forget his place. Someone like him will always be made for the - AHHH!”

Dae finds herself yelping out squeezing her eyes shut when he throws the glass bottle roughly against the wall- he rolls and stumbles out of bed bending down to get another bottle. “Why’re you yelling princess? Are you disgusted that someone like me from my poverty stricken world, managed to get in your highly praised house? You’re a bitch. A heartless-” 

He scoffs still standing woozily and forcing the thub off the green beverage bottle. Popping it open he takes a deep swing of the liquid, his face imitating the harsh taste as it pours down his throat. Barely even finishing the bottle his legs loosely lumber to Dae on the bed and he grabs her cheeks tightly crushing and squashing her jaws inflicting hot-blooded pain on her. Tears form by her eyes and her face becomes red- just what he wanted to see. 

“You think you’re so high above the clouds?” His lip quivers with anger. “I bet if I punched you in the face right now you’d bleed like every other low life dog, wouldn’t you?"

“No- please don’t-” 

“Please?” Jeno babbles out. “You know that word? Someone like you, a rich narcissistic bitch, knows the word please?” Jeno jerks her head once with vigorous anger. His grip tightens on her jaws as he still squashes her cheeks watching the tears leave her eyes and her lips quivering. His words come out flimsy and fragile while looking deep into her eyes. “Tell me Dae.  Why am I poor and you’re rich?” Dae looks into his wobbly eyes while her own tears pour out silently. “Is your money guaranteeing your safety right now? Is it protecting you from someone like me? You’re such a bitch.” 

Jeno seems to come back to his senses when he blinks. He clenches his jaw before picking some socks on the floor and stuffing it in her mouth.  

“Shut your mouth if you don’t want to die.” He pushes himself off her looking around her room. “I may be a low life, but at least I can keep my room clean.” 

He bends down still with a heavy brain mixed with alcohol and begins cleaning. Once in a while, he slits his finger tips accidently while trying to pick up the broken glass pieces on the floor. He groans wiping off the blood on his jeans before carrying on to clean the floor, until there’s nothing left on it. He rubs on his eyes picking up another drink and laying on the edge of the table drinking, while looking at her. His alcoholic mind blurred with her belittling words- looking at her was beginning to piss him off.

Upon finishing 2 and a half (not to mention that one bottle he broke) out of the 4 bottles he brought in, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, holding onto his head jolting straight whenever his body slightly jerked back. He feels tired and weak- but Mark and them aren’t yet done. 

Dae gets startled with shock when his heavy body falls flat on the bed passing out completely. Her eyes widen seeing the weightless body of the big man on her bed. Hastily, she fumbles with the scarf tied tightly on her wrist trying to get it off. Her wrists buckle and turn in uncomfortable angles while her teeth grip on the scarf material pulling with all her might. Whatever this knot was- it was messy, drunk and complicated but eventually she breaks free from the hard material with red bruises around her wrist. She quickly tries to unfasten the material around her ankles too, realizing it’s faster to attempt to get one leg out. 

Picking the sock out her mouth throwing it on the floor when she gets one leg out with a struggle, she carefully sets on foot down on the floor glancing down at his sleepy face. Finding balance while setting her other foot down on the ground, she attentively gets up hearing her heart race against her chest. 

The moment she lets out a shaky breath of relief his eyes snap open- his pupil freezing her in place. Her gasp is shortened as she bolts for the door but is instantly grabbed from her shirt before both his heavy arms haul over her mouth and body- one tightly over her mouth and the other compressed around her torso. Even though drunk- his grasp around her is paired with precision and weight. With much pain being inflicted upon her, her arms shoot up grabbing onto his own arm around her mouth trying to prey him off so that she can breath.  

His tongue pokes against the side of his mouth as he shakes his head at her poor attempt. “With all the riches you have, you couldn’t even afford lessons on self defense? What bull crap are you trying to do?”

In that moment, her door opens up with Renjun. Dae’s eyes are wide open when seeing his clobbered face full of swellings, bleeding forehead, nose and lip and raptured busted lip and nose. He holds onto his jaw with his own hands his eyes enlarging. 

“What the hell happened to your face?” Jeno too is in shock upon seeing his friend’s face.

Meanwhile Renjun’s eyes are engulfed by the red lighting room as he witnesses Jeno manhandling Dae to her bed- picking her up and swinging her back with ease. He grabs the scarf she broke free from and begins tying her up while also kneeing her stomach down on the bed. She cries out in pain- causing Renjun to watch defensively. His face already hurt from Donghyuck using brute force against him- when he took the blame for Yezi’s suggestion.

He was sure that her room was red instead of his own blood blurring his vision. But the sight of Jeno being violent has him blinking in pain. With his lip being slit, his mouth hurt whenever it opened by he needed to stop Jeno. “Jeno stop-”

Jeno groans out holding onto his head when he’s done tying up Dae on her wrists and ankles even tighter. “Shut up Renjun. My head hurts like a bitch Renjun.”

“Please let her go-”

“Why do you even care right now?” Jeno bursts out asking his friend who’s following behind him while he attempts to open up another bear bottle. “Why do you care so much about these heartless girls?”

“Because this is wrong.” Renjun lets out weakly and closes the door behind him. “Did you hear those bullets earlier? Jeno, Donghyuck is losing his mind and the police are outside right now. Mark and Donghyuck both know what they’re in for- but we don’t. Jeno just stop for a minute-” Renjun rounds around Jeno holding onto his shoulder trying not to cry. The only person who would listen to him was Jeno, and if that didn’t work, then he’d have to kiss everything goodbye. 

“Why’re you crying Renjun?” Jeno asks seeing the brim of tears pool by Renjun’s eyes. 

Renjun ignores Jeno and ask. “Why did you even agree to join them when you know deep down that this is wrong?”

“I wanted to see her.” Jeno rolls his eyes pointing to her. “But that was a complete waste. Fuck my head hurts.” He snorts a dark chuckle. “She’f fucked in the head-”

“Jeno! Look at you right now! If she’s fucked up in the head then what about you? You were supposed to be the bigger and better man out of-” 

Jeno grabs onto his hair backing away with boiling rage. “Fuck Renjun- better man for who when those police are out there aiming at us? It’s no use fighting at all when we’re already being accused-”

“I’m angry too! I’ve done nothing but worked hard but now I’ll be charged as a criminal with my stupid brother.” Renjun pants out. “Jeno, it’s hard being wrongfully accused but it’s even worse when the people looking down on you are are clods who have never read a book or traveled more then twenty miles from the place where they were born. Please, Jeno.” 

Looking up into Renjun’s eyes seeing that one is clogged with blood and the other is swelling around, Jeno can just imagine the amount of pain Renjun has endured this night alone just wanting to stand up for this being wrong. Jeno breaths out even with his throbbing head- he can barely stand up straight but when he does he nudges his head towards Dae on the bed. “Is she a clod?”

Renjun breaths out lowly holding onto his left eye. “Jeno we need-”

“I don’t want to do anything without cleaning you up,” Jeno gets down picking up his beer bottle. “You look like shit,”

Renjun gulps down a lump acknowledging the discomfort and soreness all over his face. He looks to Dae on the bed who has her eyes wandering all over his face. “I’m sorry to ask this but, do you have medicine?”

Dae nods her head her heart swelling in pain upon the face of a person who has been trying to simply get his friends out the house. “There’s medicine in the washroo-”

“Save it princess, we don’t need your help.” Jeno’s groggily lets out, still bitter about her view on Renjun. The door creaks open causing all eyes to move to the direction of the door.

Mark’s eyes are in awe looking up to the twinkling lights that set a red mood theme- unaware of the eyes that fall on him. His eyes move over to the bed where Dae is placed and he can’t help but be lust struck by her position, especially combined with the red lightening around the room. 

“Your sister should really know when to shut her mouth, I wish her luck with Haechan, he’s sure gonna lose it,” Mark chortles inhaling onto his weed turning his gaze to Jeno crouching on the floor and Renjun with one hand to his face. “Border jumper, things would’ve gone easier if you stayed in that car. You wouldn’t have been beaten to a fucking pulp? You’ve chosen death.”

"Why are you here?" Jeno asks when he senses his brother glaring holes into Renjun’s head. It’s hard enough feeling like his whole world is spinning, but to have his brother on the edge and influenced to knock out Renjun has Jeno trying to focus and stay clear of his brother. Jeno gets up grabbing Renjun’s wrist making wearily line for the door- only to be blocked by Mark.

“You wanna leave?”

“We can’t leave him alone with her,” Renjun whispers hoping Jeno can hear.

Jeno rolls his head around lazily looking at Mark. Mark sees the impatience in his brothers eyes, not only is he dead drunk, but he’s pissed, only making Mark laugh. 

“Are you guys done searching the house? We’ve overdue our stay.” Jeno grunts out bitterly.

“You can make yourself comfortable in the car,” Mark moves out the way but Renjun un-grips his wrist from Jeno’s hold looking at Mark. 

“What are you planning on doing now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know snitch,” Mark walks away from Renjun edging close to the bed where Dae lays. “How you doing baby girl?" He asks causing her to shift uncomfortably and away from him. He gets one knee on the bed with a coy smirk on his face looking down at Dae. He wanted her. Badly.

“Mark-”

“Why can’t I have my thoughts in peace?” Mark groans shutting his eyes. "I'm not gonna repeat myself border jumper. Get out.”

Renjun on the other hand enquires again while forcing Jeno’s weak grip away- again. “Mark haven’t you guys caused enough trouble? Can’t we just leave? Enough is enough-”

“Enough is enough.” Mark mimics in a high pitched voice. “You sound like a fucking little girl nagging. Leave.”

“No.” Renjun surprisingly stands his ground. 

Mark turns his head to Dae leaning over with the bunt in his hand passing it through her lips. “Since you like expensive things, why not put this in your mouth. Don’t drop it.” Mark cheekily warns before shutting her eyes with his other two fingers.

Before anything else can happen Dae hears ruffling and pounding going against the wall. She peeks her eyes open before shutting them tight again sharply inhaling her own breath to not draw out a cry and also not to make the stick between her lips fall. 

“How many fucking times do you want me to remind you that I’m not your brother? I’ll kill you with my bare fucking hands and deport you back to your fucking country you cunt.” Mark has Renjun hurled up against the wall with his bare veiny hand around Renjun’s throat. 

Renjun’s face is red tightened in grief while gripping onto Mark’s hand. Jeno lunges in trying to get Mark off of Jeno- but it’s too late when Mark lands a straight punch right into Renjun’s face causing him to get knocked out on the spot.

“Fucking cunt.” Mark mumbles when being pushed violently from the back just as Jeno attends to Renjun. Crouching down and picking up his friend from the shoulder, Jeno struggles to be balanced straight and sways to the side from Renjun’s heavy lumpy body to his own mass weight.

Dragging his own mass as well as Renjun’s body weight out the red room, Jeno leaves behind a panicked Dae alone with Mark. The bedroom closes shut with Mark cockily turning around as he nears the bed with Dae slightly trembling. To Mark, her vulnerability is the hottest thing he’s seen. Hand tied in front, legs trying to break free of the knot around her ankles, weed stick in between her lips and the coated sinister red room, he can’t help but bite his lip at the sight of her. 

“You know, we were in the house when you and your sister had that little chat about ideal types and whatnot. And I’m curious to know, did you really have a sugar daddy? Did you have  sex with him? Even with all the money your father has, you still went ahead and had a fucking sugar daddy?” He chuckles removing his own jersey remaining in a black t-shirt. “So tell me, how good did he fuck you?”

His hands gently skim the scarf material tied around her ankles, before his attention diverts to her shoes and he begins to unfasten them. His eyes preying up on her slim and juicy thighs with such lust. A leering smile coats his lips once he gets her shoes off and looks at her small feet. He sinks into the bed like a predator about to devour his prey slowly crawling up her legs while his head lowers allowing his nose to smell on her smooth delicate skin.

“I’m guessing he was old,” Mark lowly laughs when pressing little kisses over her belly that’s exposed by her crop top. “You know guys with money, they only have sugar babies for sex because no rational girl can climb up on their tiny dicks. So tell me baby girl, did you climb up his tiny dick?”

Dae’s breath hitches when his lips move up to trail against her neck planting kisses. Feeling him suck a hickey on her neck she shuts her eyes feeling mixed emotions swirl in her stomach. Unintentionally her body reacts to his teeth that graze up her earlobe. Her reaction edges him to breath down her neck lapping his slippery wet tongue over the bruised hickey spot. With his legs on either side of her body, he feels himself growing hard with how heated up she was. Moving back a little, he admires the hickey he gave her as he removes his weed bunt from her lips. In haling it and blowing it on her trembling lips he chuckles.

“If you did climb on that fucker’s little dick, you’ll be surprised when you see my massive cock,” Without wasting another moment, his tongue brushes up against her lips before he sucks-hastily getting into her mouth with his greedy tongue. The kiss is sloppy, messy and Dae finds it the most difficult to breathe. 

“I bet you’ve never been kissed like this before.”

S1:EP 16-20

5 minutes before

“If I even so see one cop car tailing us, we’ll kill them.” Donghyuck spits out through the phone before cutting it and turning to Mark who leans by the door way of Yezi’s room. 

“Where’s your brother?”

“Who knows?” Donghyuck glares at Yezi on the bed. She’s back to being tied on her hands, as Donghyuck can’t trust her. The tears are still running out her eyes. It’s because of her he had to beat up his brother and now she’s crying as if he hit her. “What the fuck are you crying about now? Do you want me to give you a reason to cry?”

“Leave her alone,” Mark chuckles a little. “What the hell was that about? On the phone?”

“Bargaining with the officer. They intersect and the girls will get hurt.” Donghyuck gets his eyes off her crying face to her hands that are wrapped around a tight fabric of a scarf.

"Are we taking them? As sex slaves?" Mark questions, the thought of touching the girls tingles his senses.

"No, as wager so they don’t think we’re bluffing." Donghyuck shakes his head closing the curtains walking over to the bed. He runs his fingers through his hair removing his cap completely shaking his messy tossed hair. Mark takes a whiff of his weed. “This whole thing has fucking been brought out of proportion. We can’t afford to take them with us.”

"Actually, they could become sex slaves while we’re on the move.” Mark suggests.

"We go with them in the car, drive until we lose the cops and then ditch them when we're done?" Donghyuck thinks out his head. Following as his brain connects the dots to what Mark says. Donghyuck is hesitant in agreeing but his lips move and his voice projects what he knows Mark wants to hear. "Good plan,"

"I know." Mark says cockily.

"We still need a backup plan.” Donghyuck says. "For instance, we’re shot down while pulling out the driveway, even if we had to hurt the girls, we’d still be caught. We can’t afford getting caught. Or the drive way-"

"Burn it."

Donghyuck pauses, trying to figure out what Mark said. "Did you just say..."

"We.." Mark looks around Yezi’s room just as she looks up in horrid fear and he gestures around with his bunt. "Burn the house." 

Donghyuck twists his head and this time it’s evident on his face that he doesn’t want to agree. “Mark I think you’ve smoked enough weed for tonight, put it down and-”

"The officers can't see with smoke around. They’ll be too occupied in the girls wellbeing. We find another way out and make a run for it,”

Donghyuck sighs. 

“Come on Haechan.” Mark peers into his friend’s withering eyes. Mark knows how much Haechan hates when things don’t go according to plan, he also knows how stuck and conflicted his friend is, considering it’s not just the both of them but their brothers as well. Mark can only imagine how much pressure Donghyuck is feeling for involving Renjun. “You, me, Jeno, Renjun settle around and linger on for a few more minutes and then we burn it. The cops come charging in and we run off- with the duffle bags no need for the car if we’re at risk.” 

Hearing the logic behind Mark’s words, Donghyuck nods his head seeing a plan he can agree to. “That sounds like a plan.”

“Good. How much time did you bargain for?” Mark asks before scoffing. “Do you really believe he’ll stick to his words? Officer Na? We can’t trust him, you know that right?”

Donghyuck nods his head. “I asked for 20 minutes, but I know they’ll be barking down in 10. All I know is that we have to leave as soon as possible. Have you have a duffle bag?”

Mark nods his head throwing the duffle bag over his shoulder to the ground. “Found these in the master bedroom. How much do you think we’ll get selling these?”

Donghyuck crouches down on the floor opening up the bag. His eyes enlarge as his hands run through his hair. Jewels, gold pieces, other ornaments and gadgets. “Fuck. Their filthy rich.” Donghyuck mumbles.

“Fucking bastards. The only filth here is you. Scampering around like dogs looking for bones.” Yezi quivers with tear venom in her eyes. “You don’t even have shame. You wanna burn down our house so you and your useless brothers can escape? You fucking beat him up without mercy.”

“Speaking of which,” Mark snickers at her outburst and pats the door. “I’ll check for your brother.” And he closes the door leaving an unbothered Donghyuck with a possessed Yezi. Possessed by anger.

“You people are monsters.” Yezi continues to tremble out of sheer anger more than fear. “Have you no mercy at all? No remorse? No humanity?”

Donghyuck ignores Yezi, still looking around the bag at the different jewels adorned, his hands scheming the different gadgets. According to Renjun, the owner of this house is an architect, so business related matters would be within all his gadgets. No humanity? Donghyuck rolls his eyes feeling generous. He picks them all up; the phones, laptops, tablets etc. getting up and planting them on the table. However looking down on her table he’s surprised to see an expensive laptop on the desk along with a tablet. Of course their father would also buy them these. Taking her gadgets instead, he places them inside the duffle bag- ignoring her continuous hate speech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you people? What the fuck is wrong with you!? Normal people don't do this. Do you think just because you've robbed us you'll gain something? You're so pathetic.” Yezi’s mouth firing all the words that strike up in her heart. The distaste too severe for her to shut up. “You’re so fucking worthless. No amount of money will ever change that.”  

Donghyuck finds himself looking around her room, nonchalant to her blabbers. His eyes scan for anything else that may be of value. Before scoffing up when finding something appealing to his eyes.

“You say I’m worthless?” He holds onto a test paper. “If I’m worthless for doing the unexpected, then you are worthless for these marks? 58 out of 100, is that your best? I scouted 80′s and 90′s in my school days. You’re even more worthless with these marks, but let me guess, since you’re some big shot family, society will overlook these marks right? And give you anything you want on a silver platter right?” Donghyuck taunts. “Worthless.”

Yezi being baffled curses out. “Fuck you. How dare you call me worthless you filthy bastard?”

“How dare I not.” Donghyuck mumbles going back to opening up her wardrobe and picking out anything that catches his eye. Without all the father's gadgets in the duffle bag, there's still room for more things the he and Mark can sell. Ignoring her tantrums, he continues to stuff the bag with clothes before moving to the window watching the officers outside. Hopefully Mark's plan works out well and they can leave without any eyes on them.

“Jewelry, electronics, thrifts, even clothes. You’re parents must be so ashamed of you.” Yezi ends up saying in huffs of anger. “Their lousy son, breaking into homes to create self worth by selling stolen goods. Are you even proud of yourself?”

Donghyuck picks up the phone, Yezi's phone, that’s on 7% and begins his search on locations. “What’s the address of this place?” Donghyuck asks unbothered.

“Why? You’re really planning on using me as a sex slave to fulfill your fucked up plan and escape?”

“Fucking hell,”  Donghyuck sighs in disbelief. “Can’t you just cooperate for 2 fucking minutes? Aren’t you tired of bitching? Don’t you want to see your fucking rich father already? Just cooperate and I’ll fucking leave.”

“Fucking leave to your fucked up family?” Yezi pants out. “No. How can I cooperate with you, when you're planning to use me and my sister for you sick deeds! And why can't you cooperate with the police for 2 fucking minutes?"

"You're a pain." Donghyuck holds onto his neck. "I need to leave before I lose my brain here."

"You won’t leave. You need to go to jail for all this mess you’ve caused! Let your useless family see their shameful son!”

“Useless family? Is this how your parents raised you? To look down on families. What can I expect from a worthless class bitch.”  Donghyuck turns his head in her direction with stern eyes. Not expecting his reaction, Yezi feels the urge to pounce on his family some more. He's getting tired of hearing her voice. “What’s the fucking address?”

She’s pissed that he feels no remorse whatsoever about what he’s doing. “You’re so shameless!”

“Fine. You wanna be stubborn? Be that way.” Donghyuck sighs, deciding he doesn’t want the address anymore. He's about to look away but the pent up frustration builds up in him and he turns towards Yezi to complain. "I fucking hate you rich people. Always feeling entitled to everything and wanting the fucking law to be taken seriously on those who aren't up to your level. What if I told you right now, that you and I aren't any different? I bet you the second you're in trouble or in a puddle, someone else takes the blame for your mess. The system is fucked up and you're just as fucked. It’s clear you lack the skills to live in the 'ordinary' world.” Donghyuck responds. “Otherwise you would’ve known that the world is a dark place. You getting robbed, is something that happens every where so get over it. You're not as special as you think.”

“You’re so awful. Is that what your family taught you?” Yezi shakes her head with tears brimming in her eyes. Tears of anger. “How dare you come in my fathers house and try to rob us and have the nerve to say the systems fucked? Hello am I the one disgracing my family?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes sitting by the edge of the bed trying to think while ignoring her words.

“What can I expect from a low class worthless scumbag as yourself? No value, no integrity, no humility- nothing but cheap upbringing by-”

Donghyuck sighs leaning his head back with his eyes closed. "You and I both sweet cheeks. You're just like me.”

“You’re wrong. I am nothing like you.” Yezi spits. “I was raised much more privileged and dignified then you. Because I have two parents who love me. What would you even know about love? Nothing! You look like the type of guy who was rejected, thrown to the curb- all because your parents didn’t love you. My family raised me with love. Something that you can’t relate to-”

Yezi's tantrum speech is endless and her nagging voice is the only voice fueling up the room, Donghyuck tries not to be enraged by her words. Yet the images coming to his mind of his family, sets him on edge. What would she even know about love when it was given on a silver spoon? His own father’s prime example of love was to follow his heart and leave his family behind so that he could unit with his new lover. His mother’s prime example of love, that can even be described as the bane of her existence, is to always be together and survive as a family. If it weren’t for his mother, Donghyuck knows that he would’ve long abandoned his mother the way his father did. But because she’s been consistent in keeping the family together- no matter how much trouble he caused or how long he would’ve been locked up for- his mother always had her arms open for her son to return-

“You’re not worthy of love, or any type of affection. You are a crude pathetic excuse of a human being. Instead of taking the blame you're throwing it to far more superior people then yourselves. You've got two legs and hands, yet the only thing you can think of is causing trouble and expecting to bare fruits. The only fruits you bare are of pain, so it’s no wonder your parents never showed you any love.” Yezi’s voice continues to nag, bringing Donghyuck out of his own thoughts and into Yezi’s hateful spite words. “Your parents failed at raising you. You are nothing but a product of failure who resorts to using his useless brain to fucking up people’s lives. It's clear that you're only this way because of your pathetic fami-"

“You're talking so much crap right now. Can't you just shut up?” Donghyuck groans out in anger. He gets up running his hand down his face. "You think you're better then me? Right now you're the one proving to me how much of a bitch you are-"

“You’re the real bitch here.” Yezi strikes. "A low life bitch-"

Donghyuck grumbles as he gets down to zip up the duffle bag. “You’re getting on my last nerve. Shut up.”

"Why? Because I'm telling the truth? Because you're a disappointment to your family?"

“It’s either you’re the biggest disappointment in your family or you just like talking a lot of shit.” Donghyuck’s jaw tightens when spotting the Officer Na who sticks out 10 fingers.

"Talking shit?" Yezi pipes up after a second of silence. "I don't know anything about shit, so tell me, does your father talk shit, or maybe your mother? In fact, while talking about your mother, tell me, does she ever regret giving birth to you?” Yezi voices out while watching him stand by the window. He stands there, peeking out the window and attempting an escape in his mind, meanwhile, Yezi thinks of her dad. The thought of these boys using her and sister makes her so upset that the only thing she can do is cry. The tears well up by the brim of her eyes, but she doesn't want to let them out. Not in front of a low life. Her crying would only make him feel good. “I wish your whole family dies.” Yezi spits out with venom sniffing back her tears.

"Just shut fucking shut up already!"

“I really hope your stupid family dies. Your pitiful brother, your scornful friends, your hopeless family-"

"Aren't you tired of talking-"

Yezi yells out again. "All of them! Your garbage father, your disgraceful mother! I hope you all die and go to hell! Just die! Die! Die! Die!"

"You finished?" Donghyuck asks after closing the curtains when seeing the other man who's standing with Officer Na, peek at the window. That must be their father. "I need you to shut up now."

However Yezi's eyes are drenched as the tears spill out nonstop. "I wonder if your mother ever feels ashamed of you, out of all of you, I hope she dies the fastest. For giving birth to such a thing like you, she should be punished in hell for committing the greatest sin of all."

By Yezi's ill mouth begging for his mother to die, he can't help but stop in place. His death glare egging Yezi. “Don't talk about my mum.” Being triggered by Yezi's sentence he deeply breathes in and tries to regain his composure. His mum is sick right now. She's been looking for means to pay off her medication refusing for any help from him. The last thing, he'd want right now is for his mother to die without him helping her to get the money she needed for treatment.

"Why shouldn't I talk about your wicked, shameful mother who's spoilt you rotten-"

"Shut up." He whispers trying to breathe in and out while closing his eyes.

"A disgraceful woman like her should be hanged and burnt and go straight to hell-"

By her absentminded sentence his hand is faster then her lips' when he sharply slaps her head to he side glaring down at her. "I said shut up!"  

“Why should I stop? If I too had a son like you, I’d want to die! To be put into an early grave-”

He grabs onto her neck banging her against the headboard of her bed. “Do you wanna die-”

“At least if I die I have a clear conscious unlike you and you’re trashy-” Donghyuck bangs her again but her mouth doesn’t stop talking- only cutting him with her words with full force matching the fire in his eyes. “Your useless worthless mother will go to hell for raising such a disgusting-”

“Are you fucking deaf?”

“I’m not deaf you shitty bastarded! I'm just saying facts about your worthless, useless, pathetic mo-"

“I said close your fucking mou-”

“Or else what?” Yezi challenges not being able to back down even with Donghyuck grabbing her by her hair pulling towards his face. “You’ll teach me a fucking lesson?! What am I going to learn from someone with no value who's unlucky?”

“Do you want to be taught a lesson?” Donghyuck pants with rage.

“On how to be a useless mother who gives birth to disap-”

“Bitch.” Donghyuck’s hand, hard and tight when he smacks the side of Yezi’s face. Yezi’s breath hitches and she peeks back into Donghyuck’s burning red eyes.

“She must be so ashamed of you! You’re an unlucky bastarded only making those around you suffer-” Yezi’s eyes bulge out again as she gets another tight back hand across her face.

Donghyuck spits out. “I dare you to speak again!”

“You'll pay for this! You filthy! Cheap! Vain! Unlucky! Worthless! Useless! Pathetic! Miserable! Fucking–”

Donghyuck pins her tied hands above her head. “Unlucky? Me? Really?” In a quick move he grabs the material of her merch shirt ripping it off her body completely exposing her. She yelps kicking her legs up but he gets on top of her pinning her down on the bed. “I’m gonna enjoy making you my bitch.”

While Donghyuck throws the ripped material of her top on the floor, he reaches in his pocket for his corkscrew knife. Cutting the material of her white bra from the middle- he’s eyes darken as her boobs pop out and splatter side ways. From the way she rambled on and on made her sound like a child, however upon seeing her body Donghyuck feels excited and doesn't waste a second instantly covering her mouth.

Even though her mouth ran too much for his own liking, the sight of her breasts gives him edge to be inside of her.

Just as Donghyuck positions his hardened member against her shorts penetrating her covered core- Mark is in another room turning Dae over and allows his hands to go up her spontaneous sides and gifted behind, lifting up her skirt taking in the glorious view of her black lace underwear. His eyes are enlightened each time he takes in the sight of her body. In reality he never cared if a girl was rich or poor, all that mattered was for the girl to look after herself, and looking at Dae, he can tell that she pays extra attention to her body. His hands roam over her two firm and smooth behind instantly feeling pleased by how soft they feel. He smacks her ass once just to watch her butt shake. A sight to behold, he licks his lips his hands kneading on her flesh with desire and lust. But unlike Donghyuck, he takes his time in admiring Dae's precious ass. The cold rings press against her warm skin making her shiver arousing him more when seeing what the cold does to her shaking ass.

Dae grunts and whines softly when his hands begin massaging her- a little then she likes. Her eyes flutter closed when feeling her half thong slide in between her cheeks when, Mark, in his own world, grips her underwear watching the material disappear between her ass. He chortles in pleasure before sinking his face lower until Dae can feel another form of heat. His teeth biting on her ass- leaving kisses and hickies- The feel of his teeth sinking in makes her grunt and arch her back trying not to make a sound. She didn't want to make a sound, making a sound would only mean that she enjoyed it and that's the last thing she wants him to know- OR EVEN THINK. He paws her ass and grips her flesh smacking it and watching it change color. Mark takes his time, despite the time limit and enjoys each tingle when his pants seem to get tighter. His eyes were practically being mind fucked and his hands were stimulating his own urges. As Mark takes his time, giving Dae's body attention- Donghyuck is nothing like Mark.

Yezi is short of breath and trembling begging the predatorial eyes of Donghyuck.

"Please don't-" She cries, her voice lowering by how he's going. Reaching his sweatpants he pulls down his front releasing his hardness barely looking into her face when his knife breaks through her shorts watching her squirm and shakes. He smirks and viscously pulls aside her white panties- his dick having it’s own brain as it pokes into her. He spits down into her core and by a rapid instant she gasps by the moisture being stunned and truly afraid. Her lips are frozen shut only quivering as her eyes watch all that's happening to her.

"Don't-”

Her ear piercing scream erupts throughout the whole room the moment Donghyuck thrusts straight into her. He roughly pushes deeper into her smirking by her cries. He quickly let's her hair go covering her mouth while pushing the knife close to her neck as he continuously thrusts his hardness into her slamming himself roughly as pleasure shoots all over his body especially lower abdomen. "Ah fuck you're so tight shit." He fills his cock inside of her making sure his whole dick enters her warm, squishy core- "Ah shit! You feel so good aguh shit, oh fuck, agh," Donghyuck moans out incoherent words laying himself over her body his hips moving extremely fast. It's been a while since he's last been in a girl, but all the girls he's been in- have been so loose. However her body was just right, the feeling of her heat taking him easily after a while. "Ah shit, you're a virgin right?" Donghyuck can feel her mouth opening up and his ears can hear her inaudible sounds of desperation. Tossing the knife on the bed, he grabs her neck straggling her and blocking her airway. Looking into her tear filled eyes that shut with a mixture of hatred and the burning slow pain...that slowly turns into something else. Her mind is muffled with extreme stress as she refuses to let those feelings out...the feelings of pain turning into...sadness of being used? She refuses completely refuses- her tears still pouring out while she squeezes her eyes shut. Her hands struggle in the knot using her tied hands to try and push him but Donghyuck uses the hand on her neck to pin her arms down again.

“Fucking bitch.” Donghyuck moans out- his strokes hitting differently and deeper. “I’m gonna fill your pretty little whole with all of my cum.” He whispers into her ear licking on the brim still having his way- getting dizzy from all the pleasure he’s in, he’s so amerced into her that he accidently lets her mouth go- she shakes her head screaming out her sisters name but as quick as his hand leaves her mouth- it's back and he slaps her cheek forcing her head to the side and keeping his hand on her hair grabbing the knife planting to her neck. “I dare you to make a sound.” He grabs her face forcing her on her headboard as he changes his thrusts into rough strokes pounding into her- her cries coming out arousingly for Donghyuck- who thinks she’s moaning. But at some point- as all the pain subsides, she grunts angrily at the pleasure boiling into the pits of her stomach. She didn’t want this. “Dae-” Her mouth keeps rambling- yet her voice gets hoarse with each pump his cock produces into her.

Jeno downstairs- hears the scream the first time Yezi let’s it out and ignores it. He lazily continuous to whip out the blood with a damp warm towel on his passed out friend- as he failed to find the first aid kit. Renjun, still knocked out- jolts up when Yezi screams out again. In pain his eyes widen and his head snaps to Jeno. His heart beats with worry and he peeks at Jeno. “Why haven’t you helped them? Why are they screamin- Jeno-”

“Renjun-”

“Jeno I don’t like this.” Renjun breathlessly talks out feeling dizzy and drowsy. The adrenaline over his body striking up his nerves and paranoia.

“Renjun-” Jeno groans out when Renjun flinches by the contact of the hard cloth.

“Jeno-” Renjun gets up grumpily. “Please-”

“We’ll help them after- you’re in-”

“How can you be so heartless?” Renjun panics with stress. “We’re here and they’re screaming!”

“Sh- shit” Donghyuck in the room groans as he thrusts into Yezi once more, his hard heavy thrusts turn into slow, long strokes as he feels himself pouring out in pleasure erupting in pleasure. Staying still for a few seconds as he fills her with his cum. “All mine-” he pants as he kisses her trembling lips roughly before going slowly and eventually softly. Her mind still hazy from the fucking, mascara running down her cheeks as he chuckles at the fucked out image of her in front of him.

“Still wanna run your mouth?” he softly asks as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear- he pulls out slowly. A tiny whine escaping her from the emptiness of his member. Her worn out eyes going down to his cock that was coated in cum- tears filling up her eyes again. She watches a wet string line of whiteness flowing from his member.

Her eyes still in black out dots cries out silently filling unclean- still crying out her sisters name. Her low shaky breathes and pants reach Donghyuck’s ears and he groans out sitting on the edge of her bed cleaning himself with the torn shirt.

Dae, on her back, in her room struggles to close her legs when the baby blue vibrator Mark found under her bed fits perfectly into her tight hole as his fingers work on her swollen clit. Cum trailed down her pussy, lubricating her asshole which Mark still found fascination upon- while pumping his own cock. He changes her position again, wanting another view. With her face stuffed to the bed and her butt propped out with her legs spread open on demand, it’s difficult for her to closer her legs- even harder to stop them from shaking and trembling.

Eyebrows pushing together, her mouth slowly gapping, legs shaking and sweat coating her chest and forehead- feeling her stomach twirl with the need to let go, she edges on refusing to please his oggling eyes. "Come on babygirl, let me taste you, fuck. I wanna see you leak," Not ready to let go, a small grunt leaves her lips, curling her toes as the coil in her stomach tightens- she’s taken by surprise when the vibrator bursts out of her tight whole by the amount of squirts that leave her whole by force. She closes her eyes in tears- her legs shaking while Mark marvels out by her squirts.

"Ah, Ah! Yes, fucking cumming... I'm gonna cum!" He says as the other hand that was on his dick stroked hard and fast. Mark slaps her ass multiple times turning her body around on the bed so that her face was now in view. Not minding the tears- he grabs her shirt pulling her up and in a quick movement both his hands grab the edge of her shirt and he pulls roughly tearing it up watching her boobs pop out- “Fuck yes.” Mark moans out- fapping harder, his own set of cum flows out his dick onto her chest and he moves up trying to force his hard dick in her mouth. She twits and turns her head- but when the knife comes out and parts her lips- she has no choice but to look into his eyes in unease as her tongue comes out and licks his tip.

Mark hisses at the contact. He grabs his own base rubbing his cock in onto her mouth. He fucks himself in and out of her mouth grabbing a hold of her hair. Watching her gag before closing her eyes tightly.

“Fuck baby,” he groans out, “So fucking good.”

Dae doesn’t know why she let Mark use him- when minutes ago she was fighting and resisting his touch. But the moment she heard her sister- her baby sister scream out her name- her whole body froze. The pain in Yezi's voice- blocked out the sneaky fingers of Mark that entered her when she was distracted from the scream. From what Mark mentioned- Dae only thought of the worst. Could Donghyuck be doing what Mark was doing to her?

She feels useless alternating between fast and shallow when swallowing and taking in Mark’s dick in her mouth. Mark edged himself- loving the feel of her warm mouth that got him on the brink of bliss.

The sounds of his ecstasy fills the dark red room. Deep gasps, shorts breaths, hisses, throaty grunts, quiet moans. He was basically masturbating with her body and mouth- so when a clouded Jeno busts into the room in attempt to proving to Renjun that the boys where doing nothing with the girls, catching his brother on top of Dae and fucking her mouth- he’s beyond enraged and his eyes are snapped in paralyzing shock. Snapping out of it, he pounces on his brother tackling him to the ground- his fists catch his brother, Mark, off guard as he continues to strike blow after blow-

His intoxicated and tipsy brain is in pure dejection when seeing the girl he’s admired lay motionless on her bed, her legs open and her eyes trained to the ceiling as the tears slowly leave her eyes. While Mark is still on the ground- Jeno gets on the bed taking off his own jacket pulling her skirt to cover her wet parts. He can’t even bring himself to look into her eyes- but when he lifts her stiff body up covering her with the jacket - he lightly hits her cheek. “Hey, hey, stay with me Dae, stay with me,” As drunk and clouded as his brain is, the complete zoned out stare she gives- springs all his attention on her. “Dae- Dae- I need you to listen to me-”

Dae doesn’t even hear a thing when looking into Jeno’s lips. She can see they are moving, she can feel his hand wiping on the cum that’s dripping out her mouth, she can see him-but all that’s in her head is her sister. Her little sister, being defenseless against a grown guy forcing himself in her. “I couldn’t even protect her,” Dae cries out weakly. “My sister,” She hiccups but Jeno consistently shakes her, his own eyes suddenly watering.

Is this what Renjun was feeling? Powerless to stop all the deeds being done.

Whatever Renjun felt- Jeno knew it was nothing like the emotions he felt when looking into the eyes of the girl he failed to protect from the destruction him and his brothers have caused her family. “Dae, you need to listen to me. You can save your sister-”

Jeno’s words are cut off when a heavy blow knocks him off the bed. Mark stands up whirling his hand around as he glares death eyes at his brother. “What the fuck is your problem-"

“Dae go now!” Jeno yells out when Mark goes over to him grabbing his shirt.

Prior to Jeno entering Dae’s room- Renjun limps around the empty living room waiting on Jeno- as seconds turn to minutes Renjun feels oddly strange. His eyes looking out the curtains watching the officers climb the fence and running towards the back where he couldn’t see. Time is moving fast and it only makes him worried- especially after seeing the cop- he tries to climb up the stairs, but his leg stings. He keeps forcing himself- if only he can get himself on the first floor. If only he can reach Donghyuck and try talking to him again. He knows Donghyuck has a limit to when it comes to hurting people.

And as Renjun takes a step at a time up the stairs- Donghyuck is still seated on the edge of the bed flicking the corkscrew blade in his hand open and shut. His eyes are fixed on the broken window as his ears listen to the little girl behind him let out weak cries. He’s emotionless, trapped in a state of limbo just listening to her sweet cries of sorrow. Broken and sad. Her cries sounding similar to the one he'd hear his mum weep alone in her room whenever she felt hopeless. It feels like a trance, he can't see Yezi, but he sees his mum. Vulnerable, alone and sad. The last thing he wanted was to have sex with Yezi- to rape her, the last thing he wanted was to disappoint his family. Again. Fail his mum, again. Make his whole family ashamed. Once again, he let his emotions get the better of him and as a result he's brought back to the days as a kid when it was only him and his mum.

Single mother. Broke. Heartbroken. Lost. The only thing he remembered about his dad was how much he hurt his mum and degraded her so much that he allowed for others to do so as well. When his dad left, he left his mother burdened and shattered. While Donghyuck was just a boy, who wanted his mum to no longer be in pain, Haechan (his alter ego) had a bad temper and hated seeing his mum in tears. From an early age, he would lash out whenever and where ever, because people would bad mouth his mother. He wasn't the type of kid to take nonsense, so it was engraved into him at an early age- in order not to let people talk bad about his mum, he would let people talk bad about him instead. He could take it, he really could. He couldn't stand to hear his mother crying and thinking suicidal thoughts. So he allowed himself to be the bad guy, to take on all the hate anyone would throw. The more gruesome and dark he'd be, the more attention was off his mother and on him. Of course some would say it dates back to how she was a bad mother- but to his own mother, Donghyuck would never allow himself to look down on his mother.

Maybe it's how all women sounded when they cried, but Donghyuck can't differentiate the voices between his mum and the girl behind him. Her tears seclude him from the personality he evolved into. Haechan seems nowhere in sight- it's only the little boy Donghyuck feeling ashamed and remorseful for his actions.

The moment the room is silent, Donghyuck carefully turns his head to the side.

The pain still there. Tangible in her heart and soul, she whimpers while hugging her body shielding herself from the preying eyes of the cruel rapist. Donghyuck quietly sighs out. He wants to say something. He wants to apologize, but her bare back causes a heavy weight to befall upon his shoulders. Would his mother be proud of him?

"Stop crying." He lets out lowly. "Please don't cry..." he whispers.

Yezi's hoarse voice breaks into the silence as she quietly cries, quietly calling her sisters name and choking on her own tears.

Donghyuck’s jaw trembles. He kept falling, failing, getting tricked and losing a piece of himself every time he was out with Mark- and if he’s honest, also when he was out alone. As time passed, it no longer became about shielding his mother, it just enveloped into him to be ruthless. To others although he looked worthless, pathetic and a bad son, what those people never saw were the times he’d pay for his mother’s surgery, buy food and groceries for the house, or pay for his brother’s high tuition fees- All he wanted to do, was make the people he cared for to be happy.

Who could ask for a better life then that?

But seeing the girl, Yezi shivering and exposed- his walls crack and break. He raped her.

He gets up from the bed picking up some clothes on the floor. Getting close to her, his eyes flame in remorse when seeing her red blotched face and torn clothes. He really did that?

“Are you cold?” He finds himself asking as he clings onto her hands and breaks the scarf off that tied her- holding tight when she tries to pull away. Having changed his mother many times when she was weak- his grip on Yezi doesn’t wither while he dresses her up in a yellow short that seemed long enough, keeping silent as she whispers for him to die and how much she hates him and how he’s a rapist.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Donghyuck’s head snaps to the door and he holds onto his own gun when the door bursts open and Jeno stands there panting and bleeding and alert.

“Are those gunshots?” Donghyuck asks blaring wholes at Jeno.

Jeno points out and looks back into Donghyuck’s eyes. “M-Mark shot Ren-Renj-”

Donghyuck’s eyes widen even before Jeno can finish his words. Donghyuck bursts out the room anxiously running passed the red room and furiously down the stairs. Spotting his brother at the bottom of the staircase with blood- Donghyuck breaths out rigidly sprinting down until-

In an instant an explosion erupts from downstairs causing the bottom of the house to erupt in flames. Donghyuck’s eyes widen and he yells out. “RENJUN!” Getting up weakly on his feet and still sprinting down into the heavy smoke of fire that’s coming from the garage with all the cars- Donghyuck makes out Mark’s figure shooting out to the open garage door. Quickly pulling his brother’s arms and coughing out- Donghyuck’s eyes water with the stinging from the smoke. He moves his way towards an empty hallway that’s clear of flames. Looking down at Renjun’s bloodied form- Donghyuck’s eyes search all over until he finds the new source of bleeding from the side. He presses down with his hand earning an aching grunt from Renjun who flickers his eyes.

The tears pour out by themselves when Donghyuck tries to remove his hoody to try and wrap it around Renjun. “RENJUN! STOP PLAYING!" Donghyuck’s shaky fingers get in contact with Renjun’s skin slapping him lightly, trying to keep his eyes open. His cheeks bounce softly with every pat. "Please Renjun you twap, don’t die on me, don’t die on me,"

[flashback]

“How’s my mum?” Donghyuck rushes across the corridor upon seeing Renjun. Renjun is seated on the plastic chair his leg bouncing up and down in worry.

“She’s my mother as much as she’s yours-”

“You’re not her blood child, so don’t you dare try and pull that card orphan boy.”

Renjun glares upwards into Donghyuck’s eyes. “You really wanna do this here? Oh yeah? Okay you, her blood child who's full of worth, is that right? Oh god help me! How can you be so cruel, inconsiderate and so self involved? She’s in the hospital because of you. She got a phone call from the police department again- because she somehow had to look for money to bail you out of prison- do you even know how much she’s owing our neighbors? Do you know how much weight she’s lost just because of you, her blood son? Do you even know that her stress levels are above the maximum limit- only because she worries about you? The left side of her whole body isn’t working because of her blood pressure- she went into hyper shock this morning all because of you- her blood son! Every time she’s in pain- it’s always because of you. Every time she’s drowning deep in stress and debt is always because of you- for crying out loud- I gave all the money you gave me for school fees just so that she wouldn’t stress about money- do you even care about her? Why do you keep flaunting that blood son title if you don’t even act like a blood son? I may be an orphan but she’s given me a life more than my own mother could ever given me. I recognize all the struggles she’s undertaken just so that I could be a part of her and your life. She’s given me everything and for that I’m eternally grateful. She’s clothed me, fed me, given me the love and warmth I never thought I could receive- but yet here you are. You only show up when she’s in trouble- you only show up when she’s in pain- you only show up when we’re at the lowest and right now you’ve got the biggest nerve to bring out blood son? Are you serious right now Donghyuck? Her blood son hasn’t even seen her smile once but he’s got the nerve to own up and claim to that position. You haven’t even been living with us for the longest of time, but you’ve got the balls to barge in here and say you’re her blood son? Idiot. Please leave. Please leave before something bad happens to her because of your presence.”

Renjun glares at his older brother in pure anger and resentment. Every word he said came from the depth of his heart. Renjun, from the first day he stepped foot into his new 'home' was grateful for all that his new mum had done for him. Upon meeting her son, Donghyuck, Renjun assumed that he'd get along well with the older boy. But Donghyuck would always show his superiority over Renjun and the fact that he was the only son to his mother. No matter how hard Renjun tried to befriend the older one- Donghyuck wasn't kind enough to roll out the welcoming carpet. But after that day- after that day when his mother almost died, Donghyuck had a change of heart regarding both his mother and orphaned brother.

[End of flashback]

It happened 3 years ago, but till today- Donghyuck would never forget the urge he got to want to be like Renjun. Renjun was adopted yes, but the way Donghyuck’s mother would put Renjun on a high pedestal only made Donghyuck want to keep the state of happiness around his mother. He liked the peace and joy his mother was in when being with Renjun. Although it was a working progress, Donghyuck tried as hard as he could- to accept Renjun. After all, Renjun was remarkable. He'd bring back home marks that were astounding, he'd get scouted by top businesses wanting to work with him and he'd especially get praise for his artwork whenever he'd win competitions. With all those marvelous achievements, Donghyuck felt some sense of pride towards the boy considered his 'brother'. From that day on, he vowed to be Renjun’s brother.

The change happened bit by bit- he would suddenly pick Renjun up from school- try to initiate conversation with him- he would go supply shopping with him and even going as far as attending Renjun’s stupid award ceremonies. Donghyuck knew himself- he had a high temper and easily irked, but something about being with his mother who looked upon Renjun with angelic eyes made Donghyuck content.

Even though he was never his mother’s pride and joy, as she constantly was quick to pick Renjun over him any day- somehow made Donghyuck want to be close by to where Renjun- because wherever Renjun was, his mother was always there rooting on for him he was glad that she could be proud and joyous of his brother.

So seeing Renjun in pain and bloated with beatings- Donghyuck feels himself about to lose his mind. Did he really do this to his brother?

[Flashback]

"So, I want to run something by you," Renjun says sitting on the grass, next to Donghyuck who's smoking weed while taking in the warmth of the sun on his skin.

"What?" Donghyuck asks with no emotion, his eyes closed, his lungs breathing in and out the toxic fumes of air.

"On what conditions would you willingly beat me up?"

The question causes Donghyuck to hold the air in his mouth a little longer then usual. When puffing out the air, his eyes open squinting at the bright sun, before he turns his gaze to Renjun who's got his fingers scissoring the grass- trimming it with his fingers. "What?"

"I want you to beat me up."

Donghyuck blinks once. He sits up and sighs out. He offers Renjun a smoke to which Renjun refuses. Donghyuck puts it back in his mouth only staring at the boy. "You wanted to run this by me?"

Renjun nods his head. "So, in order for me to get a grant at the Social Security Agency as a foreigner, I'd either need to be disabled or married, however upon reading over the conditions there were sections that kind of resonated with our current living. Such as the foster child grant, whereby a foster child is placed in your custody by court and if ever the family needs aid- extra cash for the child then they can fill a form. However, right now my identification documents aren't in the right state and mum doesn't want to take any risks in changing them because of how they threatened to deport me. So it's out the way. There's also a section that states if you've been a victim to gang fights or fraud, or government fights or fraud file a complaint with the Federal Trade Commission online- and I'd be willing to do that, but going up against the government is not my cup of tea. Which then results in this non-profit organisation that I saw in our area. It helps abused children and their families with a free counselling service. It deals with issues such as physical and sexual abuse and so on. The 'requirements' are being abused or mistreated by either a family member or community," Renjun takes in a deep breath waiting upon Donghyuck's words.

"So you want me to beat you up to get money?" Donghyuck concludes watching Renjun nervously nodding his head. Puffing out some smoke Donghyuck runs his hands through his hair. "Where's mum?"

"She went to church."

Donghyuck nods his head. "What do you want the money for?"

"She told me not to tell you because you might do something crazy again..." Renjun anxiously let's out before taking in a deep breath. "She went to the hospital for her regular check up and the Doctors discovered something-"

"What?" Donghyuck stops smoking urging Renjun to speak on.

"She's got a brain tumor and since they found it early in it's developing stage they're willing to remove it. The surgery sums up to 7k maximum. They set a date for 2 weeks from now, but she said she'd get back to them in order to sort out her account funds and records. Donghyuck, I went with her to the bank and she doesn't have enough. So, she wanted to reject the surgery and go for treatments instead. But...brain tumors are deadly and she could die-"

"Don't even finish that sentence. She's not going to die." Donghyuck breathes out. He sinks back in the ground and smokes on the weed bunt again. "I'll get the money and I want you to give it to her. If she asks where you got it from just say you won a prize or something. There's no way I'm beating you up for a grant that may or may not be approved - or even helpful."

Renjun's eyes widen. Although he's grateful, he's also on edge of where Donghyuck will get the money. "What will you do?"

"I've got a friend-"

"Mark?" Renjun questions. "You do crazy things when you're with that guy."

"Listen here twat." Donghyuck sighs sitting up once again. "Mark isn't someone I want you to linger around. He's not your friend, neither is he mine. If you think I'm 'crazy' then it means you haven't crossed Mark yet. He's dangerous. Profoundly dangerous and smart and that's a deadly combo. We just get along because we find common interests in things- making money by the means of extracting from people who don't deserve it. Okay, I'm no hero or Robin hood or whatever, but that's just a logic to keep me sane. As long as mum's happy, as long as you're happy, automatically that makes me happy," Renjun smiles a little. Donghyuck never says sappy sappy things like that, so for him to be saying it now means that he's being vulnerable. "So I'm not gonna beat you up. I would be absolutely crushed if something had to happen to you especially on my account. You're my brother and you make mum happy and I don't want to take that away by hurting you,"

Being flustered by all the strange praises and acts of brotherhood Renjun's ears turn a shade red. "Hey," Renjun clears his throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"You've been talking, I don't know what's different if you ask a question. You'd still be talking," Donghyuck mummers.

"Would you go to rehab?"

"I don't need it," Donghyuck answers simply. Taking one last breath of the weed, Donghyuck throws it behind him to somehow prove a point. "I can control myself."

"I..." Renjun shuts himself up quickly before shaking his head.

"I'm in a good mood today. Say what you want to say or go away." Donghyuck closes his eyes now wanting to sleep under the sun.

"I've seen that you get pretty violent when you're on drugs." Renjun says. "And I'm just hoping that you can really control yourself, because if you get the money and mum gets the operation, we'll need to be on our best behavior to not cause her stress."

[End of flashback]

Mark full of anger dodges the blasts of flame as well as rapid fire that blazes all around the kitchen. He sprints away reloading his gun with his last round of bullets. As he's away from the flames and engulfed in smoke- by a specific hallway where he once saw Dae hiding in, he spots Donghyuck on the floor cradling Renjun. There's only one way this plan will work without them having to carry excess baggage or being tailed by the police- and that's to leave the excess baggage.

"Haechan we have to move right now." Mark announces. "Let's go, both of us."

Donghyuck hearing the low voice of Mark before feeling a hand grab on his shoulder instantly turns his head to Mark with bloodshot red eyes. "You shot Renjun?" Donghyuck's voice comes out low but the growl and grunt that follows afterwards makes Mark stunned. "Did you?! Huh!?"

"Fuck man chill! Now's not the time to-"

Before Mark can finish his sentence he's sprung backwards as Donghyuck furiously tackles him to the ground rapidly landing a good rock hard solid punch over Mark's cheek. Blood bursts out of his mouth as Donghyuck lands another aggressive punch on the other side of Mark's face. Being dizzy by the impact Mark lays motionless panting out while Donghyuck grabbed his collar. It's true they were both skilled in combat, however compared to themselves, Donghyuck was actually a much better fighter while Mark was a better gun man. So when Donghyuck hurls out his fist tightly to knock out Mark- Mark is quick to pull out his own gun and blow out straight on Donghyuck's abdomen.

"Fuck!" Donghyuck aches whilst Mark uses the opportunity to elbow him in the face. Getting up lazily on his feet, Mark pants up spitting out the blood before pointing the gun one more time towards Donghyuck's leg.

"See you in prison." Mark mummers quietly. "Or not."

BANG!

Jeno is mindful when carrying Yezi bridal style trying to maintain all his strength and composure on not dropping the girl. Upon bursting into her room and informing Donghyuck of Mark's madness- Jeno quickly went to Yezi's side. However the blood stain that was on the bed and seemed to be dried out on her leg only made Jeno more weary of what Donghyuck did to the poor girl. Renjun was right. He was right about the girls being defenseless against the hard cold boys in their homes. As soon as he lifted her up he could hear her crying lowly and calling her sisters name. But now upon going up the stairs of the third floor where their parents master bedroom is, he jogs to the open door going straight to the private bathroom where he left Dae.

Dae is still motionless hugging her knees staring at the shower. Hearing footsteps she snaps out of the nothingness and sees Jeno with- "Yezi! Yezi!" Dae crawls over to where Jeno lays down Yezi. Jeno gets up grabbing a shower head and flickering it on splashing his hand with some water to sprinkle some on her face. Yezi awakens from her trance of trauma and shoots up blurting out tears and sounds of pain. The sight of the two sisters grabbing onto each other hugging, comforting and embracing their sorrows almost makes Jeno feel so ashamed. He was late at doing what's right, stopping his brother, rescuing the girls and failing to keep his best friend alive. Sinking down against the polished wall far from the girls he lets himself finally breath out as he sniffs back a cry.

This is not how this night was supposed to go.

And as far as he's come, he still needed to save the girls. Sniffing back and getting up he walks out the bathroom moving around the enlarged brown themed room until he sees the curtains leading to the balcony. He opens it up, seeing their at the back of the house. Down below there's a swimming pool and... two officers. He quickly runs back to the bathroom looking down at the two girls. "Can you walk?"

Dae's legs were weak and she couldn't even make a run for it when Jeno was still occupied with Mark. After mindlessly giving Mark a fisted backhand, he managed to dodge his brothers grasp as he ran to Dae on the bed, throwing her over his shoulder and running to the door slamming it shut with the key before he ran and ran- and went up the stairs where he saw an open door. Getting inside, Dae instructed him where the bathroom was. Her legs were sore. As for Yezi, the blood stain alone made him feel uncomfortable. Yezi buries herself deeper into Dae while Dae looks up with dark eyes that are smeared with her messed up make up, she shakes her head.

Jeno gulps and runs his hands through his hair. "Alright, look." He blinks sharply trying to focus. "There's some cops outside near the swimming pool. I don't think you guys can get out through the front door, so this is the only way."

"Take Yezi, I'll try to walk," Dae attempts to get up balancing on the basin. Jeno picks up Yezi who is wildly trembling. He wants to apologize, but the words are stuck on his throat when thinking of the blood. For fucks' sake why Donghyuck and Mark have to go so far? Going over to the balcony door the lights are all turned off and the floor shakes after a loud explosion. Yezi squeaks covering her ears. Jeno hurriedly moves to the outside seeing the two officers running to the cause of impact getting out of view.

"Shit." He curses. He sets Yezi down avoiding her eyes that are worriedly moving around. He hurries back inside trying to make his way in the darkness using the moonlight. Dae is shaken up when Jeno puts his hands on her. "It's only me." 

She breaths out and slowly her grip on her skirt stiffens and her eyes open wide. "What happened?" She whispers, the pitch black bathroom suddenly has a threatening view. Jeno's arm wraps around Dae carefully bringing her close to him. The distant sound of crinkling fires and the light wave of smoke passing in the air makes Dae more panicked.

*

Mark curses as the power erupts, only leaving the flames to bear out light through parts of the house. He secures the baggage of goods in the duffle bag over his shoulder as he quietly wakes out of Yezi's room. The air is hot. He covers his nose with his hand. Going upstairs will only corner him, so he seeks to go downstairs again. But at this point, downstairs is spreading with rapid hell flames and he can hear the police calling out.  

Hearing the police march in union, he ducks and finds himself in the darkness of Dae's room- he feels on his temple when the heat wave brushes past the open wound given by Donghyuck. Thinking about Donghyuck, Mark hopes that Donghyuck isn't caught or trapped in the fire. The blood drips down his forehead and he groans, he grips the bag in his hand...

Looking at his hand, notices a little red light beam. He's quick in moving away grabbing the alcohol bottle and flicking it out the room. He grabs a few more bottles- mostly likely Jeno who drank and he charges out the room in speed towards the staircase where he thrusts his hand to throw the bottles watching it catch flames and shatter over the police who are covered in protective gears. Shit! He won't be able to escape. Running back to Dae's room he grabs the nearest piece of material and stuffs it in the bottle before taking his lighter and lighting up the material and letting his lighter touch the tip of the blanket with the fire- he watches the fire spread all over the blanket- leaving it inside and he runs out the room running into the hallway before jogging up the stairs. He turns back when hearing the loud explosion again burst and erupt from Dae's room. Now two floors are burning he stands up and throws the bottle near the police officer on the carpet. The fire from the bottle crushes to the floor creating an explosion.

Outside, Chenle cries on his knees on the ground as he watches his house burning up in flames. Officer Na and the rest of the police squads had gone inside after the sign was clear for them to go. It first started with the garage explosion that Chenle knew that the mission wouldn't be easy. He thought after waiting a couple more minutes that the police Officers would be out hand cuffing the boys- instead he watched as two officers with heavy bodies on their backs ran out placing the two bodies on the stretchers. Whether those were one of the boys or their officers- it was difficult to tell.

Chenle hauls himself up from the floor with tears running down his face to the snots mixing with the streams, he begins to run to the open gate where the rest of the squad disappeared to.

"You can't go in! You can't go in!" He's stopped by an alarmed and panicked Jisung. "Officer Na-"

"FUCK MY KIDS ARE GOING TO BURN! LET ME GO!"

In him yelling out loud at the top of his lungs, he hears a distant yell. "Daddy!" Both him and Jisung's head snaps to the opposite side of where the Officers left.

"I'll go and check it-"

"Fuck you!" Chenle fits off running in the direction of the open yard with Jisung hot on his heels.

S1:EP18-20

"I have to go," Jeno suddenly says. "Go to your sister."

"No, no, no, please don't leave us." Dae begs trying to see him in the dark while holding his top, fear crawling all over her.

Jeno is flushed by her grip and holds onto her hands. "Get yourself and your sister out of here. Yell or something." Jeno gets up and moves to the door. He carefully moves along the passage going down the stairs but is completely stunned when his eyes are engulfed by the flames. He turns his head back when hearing a voice yell out "Daddy!" in distress and he hopes the girls are getting out safely. He goes down the stairs avoiding the fire and heat it causes and without a plan he attempts to look for his brother yelling out, "Mark!"

Little does he know that as soon as he got out the masters bedroom, Mark instantly hid himself behind the corridor wall. Watching his brother leave, he hears the yell of one of the girls calling out to their father. It's too late to use the girls as sex slaves, but if he wanted to get out of here in one piece, it was worth a try. He gets inside the dark room instantly freezing when hearing low pants.

"Jeno?"

It's Dae. Mark matches her voice and hastily while being stealthy he covers her mouth backing her up against the wall while she tries to fight with her fists. Yezi is still outside screeching out her father's name being unaware of Dae who tries to fend for herself. The tears are brimming by her eyes as her fists really try to get rid of the man in front of her. In the dark, she makes out his eyes and she can't forget the wild look he generates.

"YEZI JUMP!" Dae yells out when Mark lets go of her mouth in order to pull her close to him. Just as fast as his hand is off her mouth it's back against her mouth but this time he drags Dae behind and out the room as he legs kick and struggle to follow on.

Yezi's head snaps back when hearing Dae yell out. Panic overcomes her again and she hesitates on whether to jump as told or go back. Her legs ache when she stands so she takes it upon herself to jump instead. Getting over the rail her legs throb and hurt in pain before the adrenaline pushes her off and she jumps. The bind of the pool net catches her gripping her with the tight rope and cold waters. All the new felt pain is gone when seeing her father running with speed towards her- while few other officers are behind him. He's quick in tripping his way on the net securely getting closer to his daughter, his last daughter who is bloated with tears upon seeing her father.

"Dad!"

Tears are overflowing when Chenle holds onto his daughter with all his might his hands moving all over her head and back- the pain his ears feel when hearing her weeping. "It's okay baby, it's okay baby, daddy's here, I'm here now okay. Nothing's going to happen to you, you're alright, you're alright, don't cry my child, don't cry. Oh god, my Yezi," Chenle digs his head into the side of her head. "My Yezi, my girl, my baby, don't cry,"

It's as if he already knew the traumatic experience she faced in the house, from the way she was crying and gripping onto him, to the way her tears were ever flowing and voice was hoarse. His poor daughter was so shaken up that she began hyperventilating and shaking badly.

"My baby," Chenle leans back removing her hair from her face trying to look into her red eyes that are filled with horror. "Come on," Too overwhelmed to ask for Dae he helps her off the pool net and follows the Officers as his heart pounds in his chest for his eldest daughter. "Come on Dae," his lips tremble.

The house is falling apart, some of the ceiling is on the floor with hoards of flames. Jeno only realizes now that he has no plan. As he thinks to himself he is down the last step his eyes enlarge when he's being grabbed and forced against the wall as soon as the flames that were in front of him gage furiously.

Officer Na grips Jeno by the collar while Jeno panics. "Please I'm innocent!" He screeches.

"Innocent?" Officer Na scoffs. "Where's your brother?"

"I- I don't know," Jeno's eyes enlarge when panicking that Mark still hasn't been found. "Shit! Shit! Shit! Dae! Dae! She's with her si-sister- the master bedroom- Mark, Mark could be th-"

"Come here," Officer Na roughly picks up Jeno by the collar, "You're gonna help me look for your brother," Jeno struggles to stay on his feet as Officer Na runs side ways avoiding the fire while strongly gripping to Jeno's jersey. "Good working men and a women died this evening because of the chaos you boys erupted," Officer Na grunts when heavy wood from the ceiling lands on his shoulder. "Damn," He grunts as he and Jeno try to climb the stairs only to fiercely stop when a fire bottle comes out of nowhere shattering against the wall. Jaemin and Jeno both shift forward by the blast of the bottle erupting in flames behind them.

Jaemin saw something similar to this, a bottle flying out from the darkness and hitting one of his Officers in the face- instantly burning him up. At first he thought it was mishap disaster but now seeing it again- he knows it might be Mark, after all, Donghyuck was rushed out of here in terrible condition.

"Is that your brother?" Officer Na looks up through the empty staircase spotting a shadow move away. Holding Jeno by his collar with his gun pointing Jeno in the back- he runs up the stairs as quick as possible pushing Jeno forward. Once away from the smoke lit second floor- he holds out his gun shooting once to alert Mark.

"EHY MARK YOU RASCAL!!" Officer Na yells. "COME AND GET YOUR BROTHER!"

A fire bottle comes out of nowhere at their direction yet again. Officer Na is quick to duck dragging Jeno along with him.

They run up the long criss crossed stairs, up to the top- getting on the third floor where the fire was still at bay simple steaming the smoke everywhere. A smoke screen of air. Shooting a couple of bullets in the direction where the bottle comes from, Officer Na ignores Jeno's plead of not killing his brother.

"Watch out!" Jeno eyes enlarge a second too late as the bottle thrushes against Jaemin's shoulder setting his leather coat jacket on fire. Catching fire and nearly plunging the Officer in smoke, he's quick in removing the leather piece stepping it quick to not let the fire spread on the carpeted ground.

A laugh is heard somewhere in the midst of the clouded air. Mark. "Be careful Officer Na, you might hurt her."

Her?

"You rascal!" Officer Na yells holding Jeno close. "I'll kill your brother this second. Where are you? There's no where to go."

"Maybe you're right, but I know you're bluffing. You won't kill him." Mark says, sounding close. Mark peeks his eyes around the corridor revealing himself. Across from him with a large gap separating him from the Officer, he walks carefully. Right through the smoke, Dae's pleading body comes into view. She's cuffed in his shirt and her mouth is stuffed with something not clear. Mark picks her up tightly holding her neck. "You won't do it, because if you do, I kill her. And you know I'm not bluffing."

Officer Na clinches his teeth together looking at Dae. Her eyes are puffed and she's bloody resembling Mark's state. The burn mark over her arm is evident to Jeno and he cusses inside when her eyes swell up in tears staring at him.

"Hand her over now!" Jeno snaps his eyes to Mark by the words of the Officer.

"Fuck Mark! Let her go!" Jeno yells out. As much as he tries to understand Mark, he can't seem to wrap his head around why Mark is going over board and literally fighting till the death. "Come man, just give it up already. You're surrounded man."

Mark chuckles. "By who?" He looks around. "Everyone's already dead, except him." He points to Officer Na.

Officer Na walks slowly closer to Mark holding the gun sharply to Jeno. "Do you wish for your brother to die?" Jeno holds his jersey at the back struggle to keep up with the police harsh grip almost tightening around his neck.

Mark doesn't budge but holds Dae tightly on the back of her neck now forcing her on her knees with the gun at the back of her head- causing Officer Na to freeze. "I killed one of your Officer's like this." Mark presses the trigger and Dae's eyes pop out in patronizing fear when nothing happens. The sound is voided by the sock stuffed in her mouth- but she lets it out. Officer Na and Jeno both have widened eyes hearing the gun go off and watching Dae quivering so hard that she's practically levitating from the ground. Mark's raspy laugh gets their gripped horrored eyes on him. "Safety's on."

Pressing on the trigger again- Dae feels her skull heavy and sore. But nothing happens again. She can't see anymore. The tears drowning out all her senses.

"Fuck it! Stop!" Officer Na feels useless watching a psychotic Mark toy around with their emotions.

"The guns empty." Mark mumbles tossing the gun down- yet in a sharp move he spins Dae around strangling her neck while picking her up. "You're such a fun sized human being," Mark laughs looking into her blotched eyes before turning to Jaemin. "You want her? Too bad, because I want to get out of here."

"Are you willing to negotiate?" Officer Na questions trying to maintain composure.

"I've watched my prey choke before, but they were all men," a raspy laugh leaves Mark's throat. "I've never seen a girl choke before."

Weapon less? Officer Na acknowledges. He nudges Jeno to stand and tosses his gun aside. "Mark." With his arms out but Mark quickly gets her underneath his embrace.

"One more step and I'm cracking her neck." Mark warns with red eyes. "I'll twist it so hard she'll die in an instant. Do you want that?"

"What do you want?" Officer Na grumbles.

"Get out the way. And don't follow me." Mark shifts his eyes between both the men. The fact that they were both standing only made him on edge. It's a 50-50 percent chance. Anything can happen. Literally anything. Because when Dae hastily beats her head backwards colliding into Mark's face- both Jeno and Jaemin gallop to the delinquent. Jeno with a bold diving punch and Officer Na with his taser- they both get Mark in a haste that when Dae can even open her eyes- she's in Jeno's arms just in time for the floors to creak and fragments of the cement below compresses and tramples-

"Run!"

Jeno takes the lead caring Dae and with her passed out weight he dashes towards the masters room with Officer Na bearing a knocked out Mark picking him up by his torso over his shoulder. The floor collapses from within however Jeno hurls himself over the balcony fence jumping straight into the net with Jaemin doing the same as well- just as the house tramples and bursts up into flames from the inside out- not to be caught up in the distortion of the building Officer Na gets out his knife and rips the net allowing them to sink into the water. Jeno thrushes straight into the water holding onto Dae shaking her body to wake her up quick in enough- but she's completely passed out from fear.

From the outside, where the other Officers and news crew watch the house detonate and bursting in flames- the firemen make their move as the other Officers move in hopes of finding Officer Na. Chenle shelters Yezi from the view- but still Yezi bursts out screaming when seeing their house compress and explode in flames. Chenle tries to be strong but the words exit his mouth and all his emotions are set wildly. "DAE!" He let's go of Yezi moving out of the ambulance truck and runs to the scene being stopped by a set of Officers.

*

"She's alive, but unconscious. The impact from the burns, the frantic emotion imbalance, the aggressive intake of smoke as well as water and distorted state set her to a mild panic which gave her a heart attack. In covering, she'll survive, all she needs now is rest." Officer Jisung explains to Jaemin, Dae's state of condition. Jaemin breathes out nodding his head.

"Thank goodness. Thought we really lost her back there," He recalls how fast Jeno kept trying to breath air back into her before the other Officers stepped in. At this moment, standing with Jisung in the hospital foyer, Jaemin sips on the plastic cup filled with dark coffee. After this hectic night, he needed 8 more shots of coffee if he was going to survive the war and rage that the millionaire Zhong Chenle was charging into for the full physical actions and trauma set and cost of both his daughters and of the damages to his home. "What about the boys? I would not want to be them right now."

Jisung lets out a breathless chuckle. "Likewise. Renjun and Donghyuck are actually in severe surgeries right now. Renjun might not make it. Several broken ribs, his face is erratically beaten up, dislocated joints, critical fire burns, apparently was also shot on his hip, severe intake of smoke and fractured hips and spin. Donghyuck was shot twice, once in the abdomen and the other by his leg, critical burns, heavy intake of smoke and raptured kidney, but he'll live. However on the other spectrum, Mark and Jeno are both in scathing health. Jeno had drunk one too many bottles and was running on adrenaline out through the night. His intake has now kicked in and he's in a deep sleep like coma. So deep that the doctors patched up the burns without a dosage of anesthesia. Mark very strangely is fine. The doctors haven't yet discovered why he hasn't woken up yet, although they assume it could be because his system is filled with cocaine."

Jaemin nods his head after hearing all their conditions. He turns to Jisung. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Oh," Jisung looks flattered and blinks twice shaking his head. "It's no problem-"

"No seriously," Jaemin insists. "I prefer fire over water any day. So diving into the pool was my worst nightmare. I can't swim for shit. After I cut the safety net and fell inside that pool to stay alive, I drowned just trying to stay alive. Mark shot up like an eel and began choking me. Hell in water. So when I say thank you, I say it with every breath I have. If it weren't for you, I would've been in there with them, or worse, dead. And now that I think of it, you're actually pretty good and handy on the field. You really jumped in and fought underwater, carrying both Mark and Jeno, going back Dae and swimming down in the deep to get me. Despite the house burning up and shooting fragments of scorching cements and walls, you got us all out. By yourself. That bravery deserves a medal."

Jisung humbly places his hands to his side smiling down. He recently entered the police force as an intern and was partnered up with Jaemin. Jaemin being an idol in the police force that he's always admired and wanted to be like. But it wasn't easy even talking to him. For 3 months now Jaemin never acknowledged his existence- except for when he needed paperwork to be done. They never went on field missions together, Jaemin did his things privately and never asked for help, Jaemin moved through his work as if Jisung wasn't even his partner. In fact Jisung wasn't even supposed to be at the Zhong resident mission, he just happened to overhear and ended up going- only to be reprimanded by Jaemin. That's why it feels like such a huge honor to be praised for doing his job, his skills that he acquired over the years in military bootcamp, he feels honored to be acknowledged for something that landed him the position as an intern in Korea's most respected police institution- next to Officer Na Jaemin.

"Thank you sir,"

"I'm the one thanking you, don't steal my spotlight." Jaemin jokes before turning serious again when seeing Mr Zhong Chenle. "Has your daughter Dae woken up?"

Chenle shakes his head his jaws clinching with anger. "I'm from speaking with Yezi." He breaths out angrily. Having Yezi, his loudest daughter, talk in a muted way because of what one of those guys did to her breaks his heart. They raped his daughter. They deserved to die. "I want them, all of them, to suffer the highest punishments'."

"Mr Zhong Chenle, from the highest billionaire family of the Zhong's, is a self-made millionaire, a CEO at the world's top 10 best architectural planning's, G.H Constructions, with favorable clients, world wide recognition and enlightened public views, has finally taken to court a case that's been on lively and well-known by the democratic public, after 3 full weeks of silence. The attackers have awakened from their coma and are expected in court today. We hope that justice will be served. This has been Build Architect Talk on 94.7 highveld stereo, be sure to send your comments through our twitter page on what you think will be the outcome of the case."

The court building at the central House of Law, is ruled off by police officers who barricade the parameter from journalists, news crews and the general public. Zhong Chenle is seated inside one of the prestigious high court rooms looking at the peace symbol of justice hoping for the highest punishments to be served. Seated on the front row is the family of Chenle; their step mother Chungdae, Dae, Yezi and Chenle. Beside them is their lawyer, Lee Taeyong. Behind them, or scattered around the spacious court room are 4 Officers who were at the scene that will testify as witnesses, Dae's friends; Xiaojun, Yang Yang and Hendery are seated on one row a couple of seats behind. Officer Na Jaemin and Jisung sit some rows behind keeping mind of the door and whoever enters. Chenle strictly ordered that no press should enter. On the other side of the court, there's a lady in a heavy black padded jacket, she has strands of grey hair and looks agitatedly worried and sick. Yezi doesn't know the lady, but from a flashback that reaches her mind she wonders if that's Donghyuck's mother. If anything she didn't look like a wicked monster, she looked like a shriveled stressed out mother. Yezi almost forgets that Donghyuck isn't the only son being charged, Renjun was well. She turns to Dae by her side and holds onto her hand tighter.

"I'm scared," She whispers.

Dae, someone who's always realistically aware of her own capabilities, but also aware of her own limitations, not tempted by vanity or self-importance, is seated with her legs together in worry. For the first time in her life she looks precarious and anxious. She gulps holding onto Yezi's hand tighter. "Me too." They look into each other's eyes coated with fear before leaning onto each other embracing and comforting the other. Chungdae who's on Dae's side rubs onto her back while Chenle rubs onto Yezi's back, he and his wife make brief eye contact before the front door opens and all eyes move forward.

The public defender walks in, making brief eye contact with Taeyong in front. One thing that always made court cases troubled were public defenders- especially if they were defending guilty attackers. Why were they defending the attackers? The court appointed lawyer, or rather the public defender, Nakamota Yuta takes a seat on the opposite side of the court placing all his materials down. Despite being on the enemy side, he had reason to believe that if the boys where to be charged, then they would be charged correctly and not through bribery of the wealthy. Justice had to be served through the proper means of the penalty not because a rich father wants what he wants. No sooner then later the door opens and instantly Dae and Yezi tense up.

Donghyuck is the first to walk out in a white shirt and white pants, in handcuffs, he looks cold and angry. The next to walk out in handcuffs is Renjun, he's got a thick plaster over his arm with a sling attached and his neck is wrapped in thick bandages, while also his face is red and only his cheek is merely a yellow purplish blue with a plaster on over his jaw, he looks abashed and remorseful as he follows behind Donghyuck. The police guard in charge helps them enter the attackers zone and makes them sit removing their handcuffs.

The lady in the heavy padded jacket hesitantly stands up getting the attention of both Renjun and Donghyuck, it’s their mother. She walks up cautiously being cautious of the strict eyes of the police guard. She holds out a yellow file that Yuta gently takes knowing it's contents. Instead of taking a seat at the back where she was before, she sits on the row right behind them timidly. Renjun feels the tears prinkle from his good eye, but he refrains from crying, especially with straps of bandages being laced over and under his eye. Even though he was grateful to being alive, there's nothing in this moment that makes him grateful. He wished he were dead. While the public defender Yuta opens up the file and explains to Renjun what's going to happen to him, Dae's breath is uneven while facing the door at Mark who enters in the white uniform as well looking emotionless. He turns his head towards the girls and upon making eye contact with Dae, he smirks.

Nothing but fear runs down her spine and her grip gets tighter to which Yezi also returns when seeing the sinister smirk. Jeno, too in handcuffs follows behind Mark with his head down. He had a headache, from staying up all night to stressing about today, he hated the lights in the room and the fact that he would be facing the girls again. If anything the headache probably came from thinking too much about the girls- it only made him stressful. He and Mark woke up from their coma sleep earlier then Renjun and Donghyuck. So the two brothers had faced a lot of time together, which ended up being pretty ugly and made the boys bitter towards each other and towards the girls. Jeno couldn't even remember the full night. He remember drinking in the car and breaking in but from their his memories fogged up, but one thing he remembers is Dae and her biased rich mentality. However when Dae spots Jeno, her heart simmers down... he was alive. For some reason, a reason yet to be discovered, she felt fond of him. Perhaps she wanted to thank him. After him reading her diary, him saving her from his brother and helping her escape has her heart in esteem.

Hatred boils in Donghyuck upon seeing Mark, who betrayed him at the last minute and shot on him and his brother. Mark takes a seat next to him. It takes everything in Donghyuck not to lose it and hit Mark- but by his own will power he can't, instead it's the hand that lands over his clutched fist that he stops and takes a breath. Renjun holds firmly over Donghyuck's fist the moment he sees it forming. The last thing he wanted in the court room was another hectic scene- especially in front of their mother.

The judge in his black robe with maroon straps enters the room with everyone standing up as instructed by the officer. The judge takes a seat fixing the glasses on his face. "Trail case of Zhong Chenle against juvenile boys. I am Kim Jungmyeon Suho, present for the position of primary judge. The court is now in session." After the Judge Suho introduces himself he beats his gavel on the desk and an Officer closer to the stage stands up presenting the case to the jury of people who sit on the opposite side of the stage. He goes over each of every time slot and the given description of what happened on the day within the hours that the boys attacked.

Lawyer Taeyong stands up introducing himself to the judge and jury before mentioning the girls, the victims, and briefly tells the story of what happened using quotes and phrases the girls had said. He explains his theory of the case, the key elements to be proved, photos and evidence of the scenes, he touch basis on the side witnesses and what they'll testify, as well as emphasizes with conveying emotions of the themes expressed in the house. He looks to the jury stating what he wants from them, to punish and convict the boys of their crimes if possible at the same level and degree punishment. He takes up to 5 minutes but for Dae and Yezi, it feels like they were reliving the traumatic moments in the house being trapped with the boys.

The public defendant Yuta stands up introducing himself, and already the way he speaks brings Taeyong to the trials he recalls fighting against Yuta. Yuta is no ordinary public defendant, if not, he's the best lawyer, but for some reason he was always on the contradicting side and took favors of the attackers. Any case he fought against, he'd usually win, but the same goes for Taeyong, any case he'd pursue, he'd also win in it. So hearing Yuta speaking on the point of view of the boys, he wonders what's up the man's selves.

"The facts of this case are straightforward, nothing to defend there. My clients are charged with penalties and the evidence will show their participation in breaking and entering, offence related to fraud and theft, dealing in drugs, smuggling of ammunition and attempt at human trafficking-

"You're forgetting rape and murder." Taeyong raises his hand stating boldly.

Yuta looks to his side nodding his head firmly. "Of course. Rape and murder. In this case you will see the evidence leading to their crimes. However this I'll be countering with acts from the article laws. This is a civil case and the boys must prove their case by a preponderance of the evidence." As Yuta speaks, Donghyuck is puzzled as much as pissed off by their defendant who seemed to be digging their early grave. For sure by this rate they would get the full penalty and more. "Articles such as Article 14, 15, 17 and more stating negligence, justifiable acts, crimes committed through commission and omission and more. Seoul's Neo Cultured Law exists to protect, as well as encourage individuals to report illegal activity in their communities. My clients here aren't responsible for the full claims given, for these reasons after you've heard all the evidence, at the end of this trail I ask that you return a verdict in favor of each of my clients. Or rather at the end of the trial, I ask you find the defendants guilty of the severity of what each one did."

"So he wants the punishments to be fair?" Jisung whispers to Jaemin, who nods his head. Thinking back to what the father wanted; whereby all the boys be punished with the same crimes.

"That would mean each of them will have a punishment given according to how severe they acted." Jaemin briefs before Taeyong calls out to him as the first witness. As soon as he's finished, Jisung goes up next answering the questions from the lawyer and so do all the other witness officers. Yuta is up next bringing to the witness stand the mother of both Donghyuck and Renjun. As respectful as he can be, Yuta creates a story based on values and needs, making sure that the elder woman is not ridiculed by any of the people in the room- he knows how biased the rich and wealthy could be. His one witness.

Everything seems to be going well, the whole ordeal and flowing of movements is going in favor of Taeyong- as the boys crimes are evident and in need of punishment. Yuta is well aware of the bricks he has to place in order to get a fair sentence and knows that his chance of favor will begin when the judge speaks. Although it might be harsh, he knows his way to get the right sentences out of the jury and judge. The attackers are told to stand in front of the judge as their pre verdict would be given. Facing the judge, Renjun, Donghyuck, Mark and Jeno all anticipate their sentence. Mark and Donghyuck knowing the judge Suho, knows that if he gives his verdict, they might spend a long time in prison, meanwhile Renjun and Jeno are petrified of the daunting eyes of Suho. Being placed with chairs behind them, they sit and wait on the judge.

"Lee Jeno rise." Judge Suho calls out. Jeno stands up and moves over to the seat in front that's close to the podium of the judge. Sitting down he keeps his head down and his hands on his lap. "The crimes to be charged given by your public defendant are detention, fine and house arrest. Lee Taeyong, do you agree?"

"Negative." Taeyong stands up peering at Jeno, who still has his head down. "On the offender Lee Jeno, we'd like a full maximum sentence of imprisonment for breaking and entering, dealing in drugs and offence related to theft."

"Nakamota Yuta, is there an agreement?" The judge asks.

"Negative." Yuta stands facing Taeyong who still stands. "As I stated in the beginning I'll be referring to Article 15 for Lee Jeno's case. Article 15 states, Misunderstanding of Fact. Jeno's act was performed through ignorance of the facts which constituted especially more to severe crimes performed by the other members. The act states that he shall not be punishable for such severe crimes not committed by him-"

"Your honor-"

Yuta quickly dejects Taeyong's protest. "If anything, the witnesses and even victims can testify to his innocence."

Taeyong snaps his head to Yuta's direction. "Which victims?"

"Miss Dae." Yuta calls while picking up a sheet of paper. "In your questioning with the police you stated and I quote, 'He only tied up our hands because he was told to do so, but throughout the night he did nothing more but drink and eventually helped my sister and I escape. He also helped out Renjun.' Are those your words Miss Dae?" Dae's eyes are wide when looking at her dad and lawyer, the words were true.

"Y-yes," She meekly answers causing Jeno to look up. According to what Mark said, Dae turned her back against him. So to hear that he helped out and get a blurry image of bursting in her room with Mark being on top of her gets him to snap his eyes in Mark's direction. Did Mark lie to him?

"Not only Dae your honor, but the Police Officer Na Jaemin, witness, can testify in the last minute assistance of Jeno in capturing the real offender. There is a recording of him saying that and a questioning of him thanking Jeno. Officer Na, am I lying?"

Jaemin composes his reaction, avoiding the intense eyes of Zhong Chenle from the front. He simply blinks. "No."

"Another testimonial is Officer Park Jisung, who stated as that Jeno performed CPR, well mannered and well trained if I can add, on Dae who had drowned. So you see your honor, Lee Jeno is only guilty of breaking and entering. Because the dealing of drugs was not performed by him-"

"Your honor-"

"According to the doctors report and Dae's statement, his system was only filled with alcohol, no drugs as being claimed." Yuta pauses briefly peeking at Taeyong who clinches his jaw. "As for offence related to theft, Jeno clearly left the house with nothing in his hands but a dying Miss Dae as everything was burned down, so no charge there. And for that, we ask for the minimum sentence of detention for his participation in breaking and entering, a fine for his drinking actions and house arrest to keep him in one place."

"You're honor that's preposterous-"

"Is it?" Yuta questions. "What's actually preposterous is you throwing in drugs- which is something he didn't even do, all that to get him a sentence? If the police officers and victim herself can testify in his non involvement in the severe matter what makes you butt in? In fact, before the fire erupted, a police recording by Renjun stated that Jeno was the one who patched his injuries, injuries given by Lee Donghyuck. Your honor, my client is only guilty of breaking and entering."

Taeyong clinches his jaw staring wide eyed at Yuta. So he was going with that approach huh? Not only Taeyong but Chenle has fierce eyes. If Jeno was off the leash so easily- what would that mean for the others? "Taeyong?"

The judge beats the gavel dismissing Jeno and calling up Renjun. Taeyong gathers his papers on Renjun making sure that he would at least pin him down as he's an immigrant who performed illegal activities in Korea.

"The crimes to be charged given by your public defendant are suspension of qualification, minor fine and house arrest." Renjun's eyes are widen when hearing suspension of qualification. This would mean they'd kick him out of school...or worse. "Lee Taeyong, do you agree?"

"Negative." Taeyong firmly responds reading from his deck of papers. "On the offender Huang Renjun, a Chinese citizen, we'd like a full maximum sentence of imprisonment for breaking and entering, Offense related to exchange control, extortion, fraud, document forger and compelled rape."

"Nakamota Yuta, is there an agreement?" The judge asks unaware of the eyes that widen up by the surprise word.

"What do you mean compelled rape?" Yuta questions strictly looking to Taeyong, before looking to the judge. "No your honor, I do not agree."

"I didn't r-r-rape anybody-" Renjun's bottom lip trembles and his eyes water switching his eyes from the judge, to Yuta, to the girls briefly before looking at his shocked mother and brother. Donghyuck shakes his head knowing very well that Renjun didn't rape anybody- because the coward is still a virgin. He knows that he raped the girl Yezi and Mark had his way with the other girl Dae. So what where was this coming from?

"Your honor. My client did not... should not be charged for rape as he-"

"Your honor, my client Yezi, is the victim of rape, underage rape, that was forced on her-"

While Taeyong gives a brief description of what he's client Yezi testified, Yuta scampers though his papers to Yezi's statement remembering that he read she had no memory of who raped her. His eyes widen when realizing that the closest description of her rape was detailed as Renjun was in the room with her. What's strange is that Donghyuck who stated to raping her is not even mentioned by the lawyer Taeyong - who pines that Renjun is the rapist. Renjun is a stuttering mess and is crying while trying to defend himself.

"How can you be certain that from the description given it was Renjun? From her statement-" Yuta tries to speak above a wailing Renjun still trying to be respectful to the present girl, Yezi in the room. If it's something she truly can't remember then Renjun is in trouble. "My client did not-"

"My client was traumatized by the force of the grown man that she blacked out-" Taeyong continues looking firmly at the judge but when Donghyuck bangs his fist on the table standing up- everyone is in shock.

"Judge Suho I don't know what bullcrap their talking but I'm the one who raped that underage girl-"

"Donghyuck-"

Yuta's warning call is in vain as Donghyuck continues his speech directed to the judge who beats his gavel. "Order-"

"Fuck this order! Renjun did not touch that girl-"

"Control your individual Yuta." Taeyong warns. "We can charge him for being indifferent to sensitivity and being-"

"And what the fuck do you mean she doesn't remember?" Donghyuck continuously raises his voice, his anger shooting up the roof when he glares back with hell flames in his eyes as he peers at Taeyong before looking down at Yezi. "You fucking bitch- You don't remember who touched you? Do you need me to remind you who? Huh?! Who ripped off your clothes-"

"Donghyuck control yourself!"

"Who cut your shorts with a knife?! Who fucking ripped off your white panty?! Who kissed you?!-" In a quick movement he gets off the front row of chairs charging towards Yezi who panics- her father, Dae, Chungdae and Taeyong all have wide eyes ready to throw the guy off.

"Donghyuck!" Even as his mother and Yuta, yell for him to stop it- Donghyuck still speaks up above all the noise even though he's instantly strained by the guards.

"Order!"

"You still don't remember? Did that jog up your memory?!" Donghyuck is forced against Lee Taeyong's table as they try to restrain him but his eyes are firmly on Yezi who pants out unable to look away from the rageful eyes of the man. "Bitch who touched you?! Broke your fucking virginity?!" Staring at Yezi with blazing eyes, Donghyuck doesn't hold back even as the tears pour out her eyes vigorously. Looking into her eyes, he knows that's she knows that he did it. He knows she's lying and pretending- and that only enrages him since she's the one who caused him to take drastic measures to shutting her up from talking about his mother. "Do you not remember my tongue on your nipple?! Your pink nipples! Do you not remember me slapping you?! Do you fucking remember saying my mother should die!? Do you?! So who!? Who?! Who touched you?! Who fucked you black and blue? Who fucked you?! Who?! Who?!"

"You!" Yezi cries out as Dae and Chenle cling to her side while the Officers take him away as he grunts out. "You- it was you!" Yezi yells out all the rage coming back to her of that night. Her fingers pointing on Donghyuck. "You fucking monster!"

"Order!"

"Yezi calm down-" Chenle shields his daughter tightly holding onto her feeling his heart break when her cries get louder. "Baby it's alright, okay? Please just-"

"No." Yezi cries softly her words being a mumbling mess. "It was him, only him. He raped me. Daddy it was him. He raped me." Yezi breaks down into her fathers arm as her cries are pained by the memory. "It was him."

"Fucking bitch." Donghyuck grunts out when they restrain him against his own table cuffing up his hands again. "I fucking told you didn't I?!" Donghyuck still yells at Yezi. "You fucked up rich people always feeling entitled and wanting the law to be taken seriously on those who aren't at your level. What did my fucking brother do to you huh? I told you we aren't any different! The second your weak ass pathetic self is in trouble someone else takes the blame for your mess. You fucking mess with my brothers future again and I'm gunning for you! How dare you!? How dare you! You fucked up bitch! Fucked up system! Fucked up court! Fuck!"

Just as Donghyuck is dragged out the court room by the officers including Park Jisung, Mark pays attention to the continuous gavel that's been beating on the podium as the judge tried to maintain order. Even for Mark, that felt personal. Blaming the border jumper for a crime he didn't commit- he'd also get upset. Renjun has his head face down on the table as he silently cries- for the crime that he was about to be charged with. He didn't even remember her name, but he knew that he helped her the most between the girls- he even took a beating for her from the person who actually raped her. But she was about to blame him.

A 10 minute break is given by the judge who's astounded by the down turn.

The girls and their father are in the separate room with their lawyer. "At this rate I don't think it's possible for the boys to get the same punishment. At the rate Yuta's going, it's best we stick with the crimes' they committed rightfully. Are you okay dear?" Taeyong asks when Yezi is done drinking her beverage of coffee. She nods her head.

When Taeyong told her not to say anything without a lawyer, she stuck to silence. And when the father suggested that all the boys serve the same sentence, Taeyong said it would be possible to do so if they committed a sexual offense or if they committed murder. Only Mark and Donghyuck would be charged higher, but it was his suggestion to use the 'amnesia' technique to pin point Renjun- if her word would be stronger then anything Yuta would say- but then Donghyuck just had to stand up and confess- dramatically.

"What about you sir?" Taeyong asks. "We can take drastic measures to get them all in the same sentence but we'd be playing dirty and Yuta likes the dirt. Plus, it wouldn't be worth it if the girls aren't mentally strong for this."

"No forget it. As long as they all go to prison, then fuck it." Chenle immediately answers still rubbing Yezi's back. "Let this be over with. Opt for a restraining order as well, if they do get out of prison soon then I don't want them anywhere near my family."

Getting back inside the court after 10 minutes, Yezi and her mother Chungdae are watching from the empty room through the camera feed as Yezi feels too nervous to return. Dae sits next to her dad as they bring Renjun back on stage.

"Have your charges changed, Lee?" The judge asks.

Taeyong nods his head. "Yes your honor, we want to charge him with breaking and entering and offense related to exchange control, extortion, fraud and document forging."

"Yuta-"

"Negative. I don't agree with the charge. My client has renewed papers-" Yuta lifts up the yellow file with the renewed documents of his passport.

"But when committing the crime, his papers where out of date and expired. Meaning we had an illegal citizen breaking and entering into a Korean household-"

"Your honor-"

"If we take it a step forward, he forged his papers and identity while getting into Korea's high institute-"

"That has nothing to do with this case-"

"Yes it does." Taeyong firmly speaks picking up a paper. "Huang Renjun entered the same institute as Dae. He tried to get closer to her and even at some point took pictures of her. Who knows, maybe he's the real mastermind behind this whole plan-"

"What the hell are you people even talking about?" Donghyuck questions out furiously whilst his leg bounces in anger. "I was the one-"

"Okay fine. Mr Lee Donghyuck wants to take the blame for that too? Fine. Can Renjun at least admit to the crimes of forging his documents?"

"I-I-"

"My client-"

"You illegal foreigner, entering into our country with wrong papers, you have the nerve to go to school with forged documents, you break into a home and did who knows what to those girls- and sit here with a busted up face, broken bones claiming you did nothing?" Taeyong fires out glaring wholes into Renjun's eyes. Renjun's lip trembles and he cowers looking away from the lawyer. His mother sinks in her seat shedding light tears. Donghyuck breaths out heavily- restraining himself remembering the warning he got. "Your honor those are our charges. If the public defendant can't agree to it, we leave it in your hands." Taeyong ends his charges firmly, being fueled by anger.

The boys were the bad guys in the situation, why is that even a question?

The judge beats the gavel when Yuta says nothing else looking at Renjun with remorseful eyes. If anything, Renjun didn't deserve to be punished, after everything he said, he and Jeno were the ones who helped the girls. Up next to Donghyuck and he sits down.

"Permission to speak." Donghyuck firmly starts even before the judge can speak.

"Granted."

"I know what I did, I wasn't drunk or high, so I can remember every single word that left my mouth, all the actions I did and most certainly knows who snitched on me." Donghyuck starts. "I plead guilty to all my crimes, only the crimes I committed. I stand by the book of law, every word that comes out of my mouth is the truth. I'm the one who forged my brothers papers-" It's a lie. Donghyuck knows it, Renjun knows it, his mother knows it and Taeyong and Yuta are both puzzled knowing very well that he's lying. "I forged his papers for him to go to school and try to at least have a good life because the fucking goverment didn’t want to do shit for him. I planned out the entire scene of breaking into that rich man's house. Renjun didn't break into the house- I forced him in the house and threatened to kill him. I had weapons with me, a gun and corkscrew knife. I tied up the girls and sent them off to their rooms with my brother Renjun to watch the underage girl and Jeno to watch her." He points at Dae before firmly looking to the lawyers again. "I stole from all the rooms. I barged into my brother when he was on the call with the cops using the underaged girl's phone. I beat up my brother with my fists. I raped that underaged girl and I beat up Mark who shot my brother." Donghyuck leans back in his seat with burning eyes. “I smoked weed too, but that’s not illegal.”

Yuta said it was best for them to admit to their crimes in hopes of perhaps getting the judge and acclaimed sit in jury to see how sincere he was.

"Your honor. For Lee Donghyuck we want the charges of breaking and entering, forging of documents, offense related to theft, smuggling of ammunition and firearm and rape." Yuta states.

"Mr Lee do you agree?" The judge asks.

Taeyong turns his head to Chenle as confirmation. Chenle nods his head with his arms around Dae. "Positive."

"Good." The gavel is beaten down. Donghyuck gets off his seat going down the stairs before passing Mark.

"Why didn't you take responsibility for my crimes too?"

"Fuck off-" Donghyuck attempts to hit Mark but the guards following behind him quickly hold onto him.

"Order!" The judge immediately says hearing Mark chortle lowly.

Yezi watching from the room, recalls his words and the argument that led up to her being raped. From the way he confidently said his crimes- including his brothers crimes as well, Yezi feels how much his family means to him. The fact that he's willing to take the whole bullet and weight and punishment over his brothers crimes- shows how Yezi that the words he spoke to her that night were true. He may be a low life, but just like her, he was raised more dignified with honest values. And since he's a low life, he knows the spectrum of how the world works against him. Maybe his parents didn't love him, but he loved them. In him defending Renjun the way he did, just shows Yezi that he would willingly die for his brother- even though things in the house looked fragmented, Donghyuck's security and protection over his brother showed mightily. Even though he raped her selfishly, Yezi knows through her own words, it's what provoked him to inflict on her, the pain.

As Mark sits down, he doesn't say anything and waits on the judge. Being caught wasn't in his plan at all, he tried to avoid prison. But now that he's caught, he doesn't mind serving the sentence assigned to him as long as he's with Donghyuck. They really needed to speak.

"Mark you're charged with, murder, attempted human trafficking, smuggling of firearms, dealing of drugs and breaking and entering with intent to commit crime." The judge reads and turns to Taeyong. "Do you agree?"

Taeyong nods his head and while the judge asks Yuta, Mark's eyes pane over to Dae. She holds in her breath not being able to look away from his eyes. He forced her into sexual activity that she didn't want...rape. But for some reason, it's not listed as a charge.

"You having pity on me babygirl?" Mark asks, not aware that he interrupted Yuta's speech, who tried to debunk the other claims- even though they were all true.

The sight of Mark on top of Dae with his cock inside of her mouth burns in Jeno's head as he pants out. Especially when he thinks of how he held her and she cried in his arms. Why wasn't she telling that he used her?

"Order!" The judge beats the gavel. "Mark you may sit. We'll have a 5 minute break and we'll call you back in for the final sentence."

Mark doesn't say anything not even hearing what the judge or lawyers say as his eyes are still on Dae. It's either she didn't confess it because she didn't want him to suffer more punishments, or could it be that... she liked it. The thought of Dae being aroused makes him chuckle with excitement. "That was fun," He mutters out.

Meanwhile Jeno turns his head to the back where her father is now hugging her. With her head over her fathers shoulder, she accidently meets his eyes and he begins to wonder why she didn't confess it. He was lucky to leave with a light charge, but barging out like Donghyuck did for Renjun could only affect his charge more. So silence it was. But the burning image in his head doesn't sit right with him, especially since Dae's eyes seem to understand his conflict. Something must've happened for her to keep her mouth shut.

While the rest leave, Yuta walks forward to the boys with his hands in his pocket. He breaths out running his hands through his hair. "We asked for the minimum sentence for both Renjun and Jeno, so your serving might be 1-2 years of imprisonment. Donghyuck and Mark, minimum could be 15 years and maximum could be 25 years. With parole I can simmer it down to 5 years. That's only if you've truly learnt your lesson. Despite your charges, Renjun you asked me if they'd charge you for burning the house. The answer is no. Miss Yezi claimed that Mark stated he would burn the house, but when checking the footage outside, the house erupted in flames due to the oil leakage from one of the cars before it bursted. So damage of property is not in your case, besides he's got insurance for that." Yuta adds. The only person who needed parole was Renjun and Jeno, the rest should be convicted, but Yuta isn't about to say that. As long as his job is finished and he got the rightfully claimed punishments then he was satisfied. "Actually Renjun, even with your renewed papers, there's a high chance they might send you back to China for imprisonment, so try not to be shocked when they give that sentence."

Donghyuck clinches his jaw the whole time, even as Yuta leaves the judge comes back and everyone is seated again and their told to rise. He knows he deserves punishments, Mark deserves it, Jeno... the point is, Donghyuck knows that it was his fault in the first place why Renjun was dragged into all of this. Is wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve the punishments. So when the Officer spokesman begins to read the servings, he hopes in his head that Renjun will get a lighter sentence.

"Lee Jeno. Guilty, of the said charges. His sentence, 10 months in county jail and 2 months of community work in house arrest. Huang Renjun. Guilty, of said charges. His sentence, 12 months imprisonment and will be deported to China for another 6 months of serving."

"Th-that's 1 year and a half," Donghyuck whispers and turns to Renjun. "Yuta can probably simmer it down. Don't worry okay, it's cool."

Renjun bottom lips trembles but he nods his head agreeing with Donghyuck. He's just upset that he has to be deported back to China.

"Lee Donghyuck. Guilty. His sentence 10 years in prison with parole and community service of 2 months. Lee Mark. Guilty. 15 years in prison with parole."

While the boys are stunned by the minimum sentence received Lee Taeyong as well as Chenle are enraged with the sentences. What the fuck is 15 years? For rape and murder? 10? 15? Chenle can only sigh in bitterness as his hands move up and down Dae's side.

"Your honor. My client opts for restraining order as well."

Yuta nods his heads. "And my client Renjun opts for a recheck on being deported. He's got his papers in order and article 16 of Mistake of facts, applies for today's time. He's papers are in order."

Taeyong rolls his eyes. "Even if his papers are in order, he should still be punished and learn never to walk around a foreign country with fabricated documents. Does he even have legal adoption papers?" Renjun flinches by Taeyong's harsh tone.

"That's not-"

"Your honor." Taeyong cuts Yuta in anger. "We do not agree to the appeal."

Judge Suho beats his gravel. "All sentences are to be carried out with no changes. Restraining order granted. This court is now dismissed."

5 Years later

The metal gates slide close after Donghyuck steps out. He rubs his wrists looking up to the hot sun taking in the air of his new freedom. Finally. He’s out.

-

Getting out of prison with a warrant wasn't easy at all, but not as much as it was to get a job of any kind with so many prison charges. Thankfully, Donghyuck's mother came to his rescue. She worked as a day care teacher assistant and their school was in need of a cleaner. It wasn't a luxurious position, but Donghyuck took it just to prove to his mother that he was serious in mending their relationship.

So being a 'janitor' his main responsibilities included getting on the school grounds early, cleaning up classes when students were not inside, disposing of trash and waiting until the school day was over and all the kids went home to clean again. Those were his responsibilities, but it became tough when parents didn't pick up their kids on time at 13.00. Donghyuck hated when parents would fetch their kids late. Reason being, because he'd need to make sure that the school was 100% empty before him to go home. And if it was not 100% empty, then he wasn't allowed to go home.

Donghyuck picks up the heavy green plastic of trash consisting of used but not limited to dirty recyclable materials, and walks out the classroom and onto the hallway that would lead to the playground field where all the different sets of dumpsters would be. After dumping the trash inside and closing the lid he digs into his pocket to his buttoned phone to check the time.

15:29.

Thirty more minutes until he could knock off. Upon walking back to the classroom, his eyes squint into the playground distance to the empty entrance gate- well not so empty. What catches his eye, is some sort of homeless looking guy in dirty black sweatpants and a faded out red Coca-Cola t-shirt with holes, walking towards a child sitting on a bench. Donghyuck sighs and walks towards the entrance. His whole presence alone causes the homeless guy to deviate and part away crossing the street. The vulnerable child isn't even aware that she's been spared from danger as she continues humping on the bench. Getting a bit sexual and seemingly trying to reach her pleasure.

Donghyuck scratches his neck wondering if he should be stopping the child or tell his mum once again. Even though they still weren't on good terms, he promised to be on his  best behavior if it meant his mum helping him out. 

Getting closer to the bench, Donghyuck notices the child seating down yet rocking her hips back and forth on the bench- almost grinding herself on it. 

The sight is perverse. 

However for Donghyuck, he'd gotten used to only one of the day care students who was consistent in grinding on anything and everything when she was bored. Areum.

Making himself more visible to the young girl, Donghyuck sits on the bench next to her. Her motion stops and she peers to the elder sitting next to her, a bright smile coating her lips. "Hi Mr Sunshine!"

"Hey Kid." Donghyuck greets in a mumbling tone making the girl chuckle. With his hands in his pocket and peering down at the girl who slowly continues to grind herself again, Donghyuck sighs. "Where's your parent?"

The child blinks causing Donghyuck to internally roll his eyes groaning lowly.

"Where's the person who's going to fetch you? You mum or dad or guardian?"

"Oh! Mummy's at work." She says nodding her head. "Uncle Jung is going to fetch me."

Donghyuck nods his head allowing the silence to take over. However his attention draws to the girl once again when she rocks her hips back and forth again. It's not the first time she's done this, however, every time that she does it, Donghyuck feels slightly uncomfortable. He's caught her on this bench all by herself on multiple occasions grinding for pleasure, not only the bench, but sometimes in class as well, on her chair. Donghyuck just wonders what exactly is going on in her head, while she literally dry humps the bench.

"Why are you doing that?" Areum peeks up and blinks her eyes. Donghyuck breathes out. Not wanting to say foreign words or words she's never heard before, he motions with himself and dry humps the bench similar to what she was doing. Areum catches on and smiles.

"It's a secret!" She leers. Despite her words, she seems excited to share the so called secret. And Donghyuck takes advantage of that, throwing his best cunning and charming personality.

"Can I know the secret?" Donghyuck asks with a pretense stunned face, being cunningly friendly. "I thought we're friends?"

"Okay." Areum looks around skeptically. "It's a secret." And laughs. "Uncle Jung said I should tell no one, even if its nice."

Donghyuck's brows furrow. "What's nice?"

Areum laughs covering her mouth frantically. In Donghyuck's head she looks the happiest while trying to be cryptic. She stands up and jumps up happily before her fingers begin to move. Donghyuck's eyes widen when she lifts up her white skirt revealing her yellow panty. He hesitates for a second until he realizes that her hand fumbles and makes it's way inside her panty. He's quick to taking her hands out while having a morbidly shocked face.

She giggles, being way too excited. "Let me show you."

The secret? The secret has something to do with an uncle and a child? This only makes Donghyuck widely panic. "Fuck,"

"Oh oh." She covers her mouth in sudden surprise. "Do you also play fuck like Uncle Jung?" Before a smile latches onto her face. A chill runs down Donghyuck's spine. "Uncle Jung said fuck is a game. It's my favorite game." She whispers out.

His eyes widen. In all his years of being in prison, he sorta had the chance to reflect on where he'd like to be once he's out. And right now, talking to this girl feels dangerous. It's a problem. And this is not what he wants at all. If he tells his mum, there might be a high case of him being in a feud with the family of the young girl's parents. At the same time because the daycare already don't like him, he and his mum might both be fired from god knows what- Donghyuck is aware of how much they're waiting for him to slip up. But yet, he can't stop himself from asking. "Can you tell me more about his game? I don't know it."

"Don't tell anyone. Not even Mrs Chittaphon. Or mummy. Only Uncle Jung and I play this game," She nods her head and smile. "It's a nice game. I get to sit on him and ride the horsey!"

Donghyuck's eyes burst out of their sockets. Just as his lips become dry. He clears his throat asking. "Does he remove your clothes?"

She shakes her head. "No." She smiles. That sort of makes Donghyuck cool down again, however he's still in edge by the word horsey and what exactly she rides or what exactly has he shown her. "Can I show you?"

Donghyuck shakes his head with a tight smile, feeling bad for the little girl who seems brainwashed. "It's fine, I don't want to play the game today,"

"Uncle Jung likes to play it after work," Areum smiles. And that literally breaks Donghyuck's heart. Such a small, sweet and innocent little girl being manipulated by a ravaging uncle wolf.

"What does he do in the game?" Donghyuck asks after gaining her trust by sealing his lips shut with an invisible key.

"He tickles me here." Areum points to a part in her skirt (most likely her private area) and that makes Donghyuck mad. The urge to telling his mum growing. "And does like this," using her middle finger, she surprisingly rubs it on her yellow panty causing Donghyuck to quickly hold her hand.

"Your fucking uncle is raping you." He can't hold himself back when he glares into her eyes while shaking his head.

"My playing uncle is raping?" She asks with a puzzled face. "What's rape?"

Donghyuck sucks in a breath, and with distress he runs his hands through his hair. Before he turns back to Areum his eyes latch onto a black vehicle pulling up on the street. "Shit. Hey sweet cheeks, I need you to listen alright. Don't tell Uncle Jung that you told me, okay?"

She instantly nods his head. "I won't tell him. He'll be angry with me. Don't worry Mr Sunshine, it'll be our little secret."

The black vehicle parks right in front of them, with Donghyuck creating some distance while Areum can't stop giggling at her secret. A man, smartly dressed in a suit with parted hair, steps out the car with a charming smile growing on his lips when Areum jumps from the bench running to him. Donghyuck stands up with his hands stuffing in his pocket.

"Uncle Jung!" Areum cheers hugging him by his legs. Upon hearing the name, Donghyuck's eyes do a double take towards the man. The man squats all the way down with an antagonizing friendly smile, and puckers his lips allowing for Areum to kiss his lips before she giggles like the naïve little girl she is. She begins jumping up and down in place while the man stands. "Did you buy the toys?"

"My little puppy, I bought you so many toys for you to enjoy. They're gonna make you feel real good," Hearing the voice of the older male, his underlying tone of condescension and how much authority he has over the little girl, Donghyuck can't help it when his fists tighten into a ball. His jaw clinches when the male with a charismatic smile grins his way. "She wasn't a bother was she?"

Donghyuck's jaw locks and he looks away, only making Jaehyun continue as if he didn't get ignored.  

"Either way, thanks for keeping her company."

Placing Areum in the backseat and placing her bag in the boot, the man known as Uncle Jung gets into his driver's seat and begins driving away. Donghyuck can only stand with his fists balled up as he watches the car stride away. In his head, although the situation was sickening, he already told himself he wouldn't get involved. His mum's reputation, as well as his own reputation was on the line.

"Poor girl." Donghyuck sighs walking back in the school. Little did he know that the little girl in the car of the grown old ‘uncle’ was his own ‘bastard child’ from the night he raped Yezi.

*****

The End: to be continued in SEASON 2: SOS: POISON IN MY MIND 

WC.  47k if you like reading longshots then this if for you

[neverwanttofallasleep]

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Masterpost

It's December 2022. You're the tour wardrobe coordinator for rock'n'roll band Greta Van Fleet. You find yourself inexplicably pulled toward a certain guitarist, and he you, as much as you try not to be.

Pairings: Jake x Female OC, f!reader x Female OC (mentioned), Jake x f!reader, Sam x Female OC, Josh x Male OC, Danny x Female OC

Warnings: +18 content, angst x1000 (crying, arguing, swearing, depictions of depression/panic attacks, mentions of cheating and open relationships, miscommunication), marijuana and alcohol use, cigarettes, mentions of alcoholism, mentions of religion/anti-religion, mention of divorce, eventual smut (kissing, masturbation, sex, very vanilla and fluffy), Christmas

Real people used as fictional characters: Jake Kiszka, Josh Kiszka, Sam Kiszka, Danny Wagner, Karen Kiszka, Kelly Kiszka, Ronnie Kiszka, (Josie, Daniel Sr and Lori Wagner are all mentioned)

Disclaimer: it took me a while to come to terms with writing real people as characters in this story. As an avid fic enjoyer, sometimes I struggle not to get the ick when real people are written about because I don’t want to be invasive into their personal lives, especially when it comes to the family and friends of celebrities because they didn’t choose this. Please take everything written on this wild and wonderful internet with a grain of salt and know that the characters in this story ARE NOT REAL. They are fictionalized versions of rlly hot celebs and are completely original characters other than their names and looks. I have chosen to use the real names of their siblings and parents to keep the world feeling authentic, but I have literally nothing to base these characters on so I am fully making them up. I do not know any of these people personally (and I’m gonna assume you don’t either) so let's just stay weird over here babes and respect their privacy and leave them alone xx

I Never Want To Fall Asleep - Character Gallery

Playlist

Word count: 52k completed

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - Part 1 | Chapter 8 - Part 2

[petrichor-han]

twenty-three suns; kang taehyun (nsfw version)

PAIRING | taehyun x afab!reader

CAST | kang taehyun, choi beomgyu, hueningkai, mentions of shin ryujin 

WC | 18.0k

GENRE | fluff, angst, summer love, summer fling, no strings attached relationship, strangers to lovers, non-idol!au

WARNINGS | explicit language, explicit sexual content, hookup culture, bad communication, casual marijuana use, alcohol consumption, casual drug use and drinking, heated makeouts, groping, crying, arguing, mentions of not eating [bad coping mechanisms], both of mc’s parents are in the picture

SYNOPSIS | there is just about one month until you move out of your childhood home for good and fly to south korea to finally pursue your dream career, and you’ve done nothing but laze around all summer, infuriating both you and your parents to no end. and then you meet him—kang taehyun, who’s just moved to town to pursue his dream. and it just so happens that he’s from korea. startled yet intrigued by the almost too-perfect coincidence, the two of you strike up a summer “relationship” knowing that it’ll end in exactly twenty-three days—under the assumption that twenty-three days is too short a time to fall in love.

A/N | another repost of an nsfw version of a sfw fic! again, this was originally posted on my now-deactivated nsfw side blog, @/elysianjinnie. the original sfw version is linked below if you prefer that :)

request to be added to current and future taglists here!

MASTERLIST | SFW VERSION

TWENTY-THREE DAYS LEFT

Summer was a difficult time for you. You’d look forward to it all winter, longing for the snow to melt away and the only cold in your life to come from creamy vanilla soft-serve ice cream and icy-cold lemonade that made your sensitive teeth tingle with delightful pain. But once it arrived in all of its blazing-hot heat and seemingly endless sunny days, you began to look forward to autumn, the chill of a crunchy-leaf filled breeze and glowing yellow lights inside vibrant orange jack-o-lanterns.

This year was no exception. You felt as if you were melting into the thatched weave of your mother’s patio furniture, the sun-warmed material almost too hot for the bare skin of your legs to rest upon comfortably. Slipping your large black sunglasses—that your best friend said made you look like an oversized housefly—over your eyes, you willed the heat to go away, leave you alone until next year, when you’d be far, far away from your hometown.

Because you—yes, you, had managed to snag a fancy job at a snazzy company, one that would take you to a new country where you could stay for as long as you wanted, doing much more important work than you did at the sad part-time jobs your resume was filled with. When you’d first told your parents about the job, they’d protested at first, asking why you wanted to work in a foreign country, hundreds of thousands of miles away from your loving family and friends, and everything that you’d known since you were born. But you couldn’t put the feeling into words, that wanderlust, that craving for adventure. Even if the job didn’t work out, you knew that you wanted to travel the world, and what better place to begin than South Korea?

Eventually, your parents accepted it reluctantly, beginning to be more curious than anything about what this new job entailed, and though somewhat awkwardly, you explained your position to your supportive parents, who approved immediately—almost solely because of the annual salary, but approval regardless was relieving to you.

Now you had less than a month to go before you hopped on a plane and left your hometown forever. Though you’d left for college, a lack of work had brought you back right after those four years of freedom, and you’d spent several dismal months moping around the house while searching for a job until you landed the career of your dreams, which brought you to where you were now—sitting on your parents’ old sun-bleached patio furniture in a pair of old jean cut-offs and a faded tank top that you’d found in the back of your closet whilst beginning to slowly pack up your life into a suitcase. You could practically smell the heat radiating off of the concrete of your patio, earthy and almost indescribable other than the idea that it was warm, too hot to lay your fingertips upon for more than a few seconds. The sound of your parents’ old sprinkler chugging along and spitting out cold hose water echoed in your ears, and you could see what was happening without even opening your eyes. That old sprinkler had worked all throughout your childhood, showering your green lawn in droplets and bringing the dead winter grass back to life, and it wasn’t hard to see the little spout spattering water all across the lawn.

Your eyes, though still closed, did not completely block out the sunlight, and you could see hues of red and orange pigments from your eyelids shining through instead of the welcome blindness that you so enjoyed when trying to nap. Your cheap sunglasses that you’d stolen from said friend who insulted your looks with them on were just that—cheap, and you wished you’d just spent more money to get a quality pair. If you’d known how much you’d be sunbathing this summer, you would have done so in a heartbeat, but how could you predict such a mundane month, full of nothing but homemade smoothies and lounging?

You turned over, starting to feel the tops of your thighs getting sensitive from being in the sun for too long, and kicked your feet up in the air, face propped up with your hands, elbows digging into the chair. You lowered your sunglasses to squint at your phone, only half reading the text from Beomgyu, who was demanding to know what you did with said sunglasses, before shutting off your phone with a satisfying click and laying your face down in your slightly sweaty palms, feeling the heat finally getting to you.

The phone rang.

“Hello?” you groaned, not even bothering to prop yourself back up.

“You asshole, give me back my sunglasses. I knew you had them,” Beomgyu seethed, and you opened one eye to look at him on the video call. You could see the background of his apartment, cluttered but bright from all of the opened windows, and him right in the center of your screen, face blown up from the disturbing angle. You could see right up his nostrils, and the crusty orange corners of his lips from what you assumed were cheese puff dust.

“Why do you look so fucking gross?” you asked, finally sitting back up. You pushed the sunglasses up onto your head, pushing back the hair that was beginning to fall back into your face. “What’s that all over your face, cheese dust?”

Beomgyu stared at the lower corner of his phone, finally realizing what he looked like, and wrinkled his nose. He used his thumb to scratch at the orange before examining it, then wrapping his chapped lips around the digit to suck off the residue. “God, that’s disgusting. Can I hang up now?”

“Can you bring me back my sunglasses?” he countered, taking his thumb out of his mouth. You could see him wiping it on the front of his white t-shirt, leaving a long orange stain.

“You can come get them,” you said, “I’m not moving from this spot.”

“My car’s broken,” he whined, “I’m stuck in my apartment all weekend until Kai brings it back.”

“If it’s broken, why does Kai have it?”

“He’s the one that broke it!” Beomgyu threw his free hand up in the air, as if he were mocking you for not knowing such an obvious fact about his stupid car. “He’s paying for it and everything, so I don’t really give a shit, but just come by. I’m bored.”

You hoisted yourself up out of the chair, grimacing at how your thighs stuck to the chair and peeled off of it painfully. Beomgyu made an audible noise of disgust when he heard it. “Bring your skin with you, don’t leave it on that chair,” he gagged, “disgusting.”

“It’s hot and I’m sweaty, leave me alone,” you snapped, “I don’t have to return your glasses.”

“You know I’m joking.”

“Be there in twenty.”

—

As always, you found it much too easy to waste the day away with Beomgyu, doing nothing but roll around in his apartment with no air conditioning, feeling as if you were about to melt into his hardwood floors. You watched as Beomgyu got up every thirty seconds to stick his head into the freezer and make obscene noises, sounding more like a freaky animal in heat than the best friend you knew and loved. By the time you stopped fucking around and picked yourself up off the floor to check the time, you realized it was much later than you thought, and you had to drive yourself back home for dinner, wondering what your mother made.

“I’m back,” you called, swinging open the front door, the brass knob still hot to the touch from the sun, which had not yet set, “did I miss dinner?”

“No, you’re just in time,” your mother said, her voice echoing down the hallway, “come sit down!”

You trotted down the hallway merrily, knowing that you had to enjoy the home-cooked meals while you still could, and rounded the corner with a smile on your face, focused on the fully set table as you slid into your seat—and made eye contact with a strange man sitting across from you. “Who the hell are you?” you asked, so appalled at his shockingly handsome face that an obscenity slipped out from between your lips.

“Taehyun. Kang Taehyun,” he said simply, and he flashed a smile so bright you wished you’d just kept Beomgyu’s stupid cheap sunglasses.

TWENTY-THREE DAYS LEFT—TAEHYUN

Kang Taehyun considered himself a fairly smart person.

He always did above average on his tests in school, and was even an honors student. He took part in many after-school activities that he felt also boosted his IQ and simultaneously helped his social skills improve—not that he kept track of that sort of thing, really. After he graduated he only continued to hone his skills and his pride about his brain that was figuratively larger than the average person’s, and he always knew that he wanted to be a teacher—to stay in an environment that encouraged learning, that encouraged being smart.

However, it seemed that book smarts and street smarts could only get one so far.

Kang Taehyun did not know the difference between a banana and a plantain, and he had been standing in front of the fruit display in his new local grocery store for nearly ten minutes. His sweaty palms dragged against the empty pockets of his jeans for the fifth time—what a day to forget your phone at home—and he felt himself reaching for one bunch of fruit before faltering and considering the other for a moment, before ultimately pulling his hand back and staring at the two displays blankly, back at square one.

“Do you need help?” a kindly voice asked, and he turned to look at the source of it—an older woman, with a shopping cart full of food—surely she was shopping for a family. In the cart he spotted a bunch of bananas, which made his heart leap with hope.

“Yes,” he said slowly, “what’s better? Bananas or plantains?”

The woman put a hand over her mouth to stifle a small laugh, which Taehyun stiffened at. “Well, what do you need them for?” she asked, “both are good, but for different things.”

“Just to eat,” he said quickly, “no cooking or baking.”

“Then I think you’re looking for bananas,” she said kindly, and Taehyun felt his cheeks heat up with embarrassment—if he’d been forced to choose with no help at all, he probably would have just chosen the bananas and gone.

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly, picking up a bunch of bananas, already ripe and browning slightly, but the lady stopped him, placing a comforting hand over his own.

“If you want them to last, get a greener bunch. That way you can eat them later on too, and none will go to waste,” she said in a motherly tone, and Taehyun thought that his original assumption must be right, this woman must have a family to take care of, just based on her personality.

“Thank you,” he said again, and he was sure his cheeks were pink with shame as he put the ripe bunch back and placed a greener bunch into his basket.

They both stood there for a moment awkwardly, the older woman looking him up and down with an indiscernible look upon her face, before she spoke up again. “Do you want to come over for dinner?”

“Excuse me?” Taehyun was slightly taken aback by the sudden request; he did not really know this woman, the only thing he knew for sure about her was that she knew the difference between bananas and plantains. Yet, her warm welcome, her comforting tone, and her cart full of food that was sure to be cooked into a delicious meal lulled him into a sense of familiarity. She almost reminded him of his own mother.

“You don’t have to, of course,” she said, “I just get the sense that you’re new here, and you could use some company.”

“Well,” he said, “you’d be right about that. When should I come over?”

She smiled and gave him the address and the time, and he watched her walk away, pleased that he’d already had a pleasant interaction with someone in his new home.

—

Kang Taehyun also considered himself to be a fairly well-restrained person.

He never participated in childish things in school like rating people based on their looks, he never really bothered with any serious dating either—apart from flings and casual hook-ups, he had no experience in the romance department. Not that he hated it either, he just felt he had more important obligations that came before sucking face and touching genitals.

The older lady had mentioned to him that she had a child about his age—something that he also didn’t really pay attention to; he was still more interested in the food. But then he saw a pretty hand wrap around the edge of the doorframe, and a pretty person attached to that hand swing into sight just a moment later—and suddenly Kang Taehyun understood the feeling that his best friend Soobin got when he had a crush on that person back in high school. He felt like a teenage boy again, with how hard and fast his heart was pounding, how he could feel blood rushing north and south at the same time and he hated it. Underneath the table, his hands gripped his thighs tightly, nervous as he looked into your eyes, glittering as the light from the lamp in the corner of the room reflected off of the glassy surface. Your mother never mentioned how gorgeous you were, and Taehyun wished that he’d had some sort of warning. He could almost feel the drool pooling in the corners of his mouth, the fire coursing through his blood.

“Who the hell are you?” you asked, with such a quizzical look plastered across your pretty face that Taehyun had to swallow past a lump in his throat before replying in an equally cocky tone.

“Taehyun. Kang Taehyun.”

And then he ruined it with a lopsided smile that showed too much of his teeth, and he wished he could just sprint back home and die alone in his bed.

—

You felt like your face was on fire as you tapped your toes against the hardwood floor, trying to stare at the flawless man across from you without him realizing. You noticed that he was trying to do something similar, as you both were equally bad at it, and your gazes kept meeting unceremoniously before you both quickly looked away and shoveled food into your mouth.

“It’s delicious,” Taehyun declared sweetly to your mother, and usually you’d roll your eyes at someone so obviously trying to suck up, but for some reason you found it almost endearing this time. The way he flashed his perfect teeth at you made your heart race, and you felt your skin prickling at the idea of being in the same room as him.

“Thank you!” your mother replied, clearly happy with the situation and not realizing just how much you were suffering. “Would you like to stay for dessert as well?”

You almost choked on your water.

“I would love to!” Taehyun responded, “I brought something, too.”

“Oh?”

Taehyun held up a finger, silently asking the two of you to wait a moment as he pulled it out, and he hoisted a box of muffins onto the table. If they had been store-bought you could have scoffed and passed him off as a right douche, but they were obviously homemade, and they smelled so good you could feel your mouth watering—almost as much as it had watered when you first laid eyes on Taehyun.

“I thought you said the bananas weren’t for baking!” your mother gushed, opening the box delicately and looking over the goods.

“I had to bring something to thank you,” he said graciously, before returning his gaze to you momentarily, and you felt your face heat up again. He caught his lower lip on his teeth as he looked you up and down, a smirk making the corners of his lips turn upwards, and making you clench your clammy hands into fists. “I hope you enjoy them.”

You piped up before your mom could say anything, “Oh, I definitely will.”

Taehyun had to shakily excuse himself to the restroom before dessert was served, you realized with a smirk.

“I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten! (Y/N), could you walk Taehyun to the door?” your mother asked, picking up all the plates and cups strewn across the coffee table. “Come back anytime!”

“Thank you so much, for everything,” Taehyun said graciously, though his eyes quickly wandered back to you as you stood up and sweetly handed your plate to your mother. You walked past him quickly, your fingers ghosting over his, and he felt his digits twitch as they closed around nothing but air and the hope that you’d brush up against him again.

“Follow me,” you said, your gait mellow and dainty, a juxtaposing action when paired with the devilish smirk on your face and the wink that followed.

Barely managing to hold it together as he said goodbye to your mother once again, he hurried after you, hardly keeping up as you whisked around the corner, wanting nothing more than for you to lay your hands on him. He felt horrible for acting this way, especially around your mother, who was a kind woman who invited him to dinner, not to sleep with her child who was oh-so conveniently the same age as him, horribly charming, and irresistible all-around. He felt even guiltier as he slowed down to look at all of the pictures hanging on the walls, photographs of you as a child and doing innocent, child-like activities. This was your childhood home, after all, and he had the nerve to be such a pervert he couldn’t even make direct eye contact with you for more than ten seconds before feeling tingly.

He hurried to the front door as you unlocked it and held it open for him, smiling at him as he edged outside, giving you a tight smile as you closed it behind you. Awkwardly, Taehyun shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure how to say goodbye, as he hadn’t said anything to you besides a brief introduction when you’d first come home. “I—”

“I think you’re hot,” you said bluntly, and that bluntness made Taehyun nearly trip down your front stairs. He took a single step back, lips slightly parted as his scrambled mind tried to come up with a response. “Is that—is that okay?” you asked, worried that you’d made him uncomfortable. Taehyun watched as your confidence slowly chipped away as he didn’t give you a clear reaction, the way you backed up a little. How considerate. How kind. How sweet.

“I think you’re hot too,” he said breathily, and he winced a little—why did his voice sound like that? But you didn’t seem to mind, relief flooding your face as you cautiously reached for his wrist, and once he gave you a nod of approval, you spun him around—a little unceremoniously—and pressed him up against the door, your face inches away from his. He could feel your breath ghosting over his lips and it was driving him absolutely insane. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, and you nodded frantically—so frantically he swore he almost heard a whimper escape you—and he brought one large hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and closing the gap between your faces. He felt like molten lava was traveling through his body and like a bucket of ice-water had been dumped over his head at the same time, and he hated it and loved it. Kissing you felt like jumping off a rocky cliff and into the cold ocean, it felt like skydiving and riding a rollercoaster and flying all at once. He could feel his stomach twisting the way it always did when he was nervous; instead of butterflies it felt like a flock of birds, pecking and flapping and nipping, but he never wanted to forget that feeling. The feeling of your warm lips against his, your perfect body pressed up against him. Your slightly sweaty neck underneath his calloused palm, the way your skin dipped as he squeezed gently, and the feeling of your own hands roaming his body, leaving fingerprints of fire behind as they touched lightly then traveled somewhere else right away, eager to explore, eager to consume.

When you finally parted, you let out a little laugh at how swollen his lips had gotten, before tucking a stray lock of silver hair behind his ear. “I never introduced myself properly, did I?” you asked, and Taehyun let out a shaky breath at your duality; your shy voice compared to your actions just moments before.

“You didn’t,” he confirmed, “but that’s okay, I heard your name.”

“(Y/N),” you said, at the same time he did, making you chuckle. “My mother says you’re new in town.”

“I am. I just moved here last week, and I believe my job starts in a little less than a month—twenty-three, twenty-four days? Something like that.” He didn’t notice the way you tensed up a little at that—of course he wouldn’t pick up on it, he hardly knew you.

“Odd,” you said breathily, looking up at the sky, which was pitch-black now that it was around midnight, “that’s around the same time I leave for my new job.”

“What?” he asked, but when you didn’t reply right away, he looked up too, his big dark eyes filling with the glittering specks that humans called stars, and he understood why you couldn’t find it in you to explain yourself right away.

“I’m only going to be here until the end of summer,” you said finally, and Taehyun felt a pang of disappointment in his chest even though he’d just met you. “I’m moving to Korea in twenty-three days. Or is it twenty-two days now that it’s past midnight?”

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, it’s all pretty much the same,” he lamented, “that’s a bummer. I thought we could be good for each other.”

“Good for each other?”

“In a bedroom sense,” he said quickly, “not in anything serious, of course. We just met.”

“That’s what I was thinking too,” you sighed, not without relief, “you’re the first hot person to move here, and of course it’s right as I’m leaving.”

“Well,” Taehyun said, “we can make the most of these twenty-two days, can’t we?”

“Twenty-three days,” you corrected, “your watch says it’s only eleven fifty-eight.”

“We can make the most of twenty-three days,” he said, pressing another heated kiss to your lips, which were beginning to chill from the night air.

His watch beeped as you kissed him, hard and deep. “Twenty-two days.”

“Twenty-two nights, but twenty-three days,” you mumbled, lips still upon his, “it’ll be fun, won’t it?”

He either didn’t hear you or chose to not respond as he shut you up by slipping his tongue into your mouth, prompting you to close your eyes again and pretend like you had all the time in the world to melt into his embrace.

—

He tossed you onto the bare mattress, and you would have exclaimed in disgust if you weren’t so fucking horny. He hardly gave you a moment to catch your breath before capturing your lips with his once again, moaning into your hot mouth and fumbling with the button on your jeans. Once he managed to undo it, he slipped his hand down your pants, large fingers making their way into your soaked panties and finding your sopping hole almost immediately. He parted the kiss once more to groan as he sunk a single finger into your tight cunt. “You’re so tight,” he grunted, “how am I supposed to fit my cock into you, hm?” You whined in response, bucking your hips up as another finger slipped in. “So cute,” he mumbled, curling his fingers inside you once before pulling them out and slipping them into his mouth. “Sweet.”

He then stood up, ridding himself of his shirt and pants quickly, and you did the same, nearly tripping over your own feet as you pulled your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside with your shirt, hoping you’d be able to find them later. It was then that you finally got a good look at Taehyun’s nearly nude form, and your breath caught in your throat as your gaze raked up and down his body, strips of pale moonlight dancing across his pretty skin. “God, you’re so hot,” you muttered, pulling his face to yours once more.

“Take a look at yourself,” he chuckled, and you only smirked into the kiss before shoving him down onto the mattress and climbing on top of him, grinding your throbbing cunt onto his hard dick, the only layers separating the two of you being his boxers and your panties. He threw his head back and groaned, and you took the opportunity to suck a dark hickey onto his pale neck. “Who said you get to be on top?” he asked cockily, before grabbing you and flipping you over so that he was above you, pinning your wrists down to the bed and staring you down.

You pouted playfully. “I was having a good time up there.”

“It’s my turn now,” he chuckled, and you stuck your tongue out at him as you reached behind your back to undo your bra. Once it unclipped, you slid it down your arms and tossed it aside, enjoying the way Taehyun’s eyes darkened at the sight of your bare chest. “So fucking hot,” he repeated, flicking one of your nipples, watching it harden almost immediately. You moaned aloud as he leaned down to suckle on the untouched nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud and enjoying the way you arched off the bed, pushing your chest closer, hoping for more.

He let go of your nipple after teasing it just a little with his teeth, leaving you flushed and panting, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to ease the pressure. He noticed this and grinned toothily, hooking his fingers onto the elastic sides of your undergarments and pulling them down, leaving you completely bare. Your mind was hazy at this point, as he used his strength to pull your legs apart and stare at your dripping pussy, glistening in the moonlight. “Can I?” he asked, his head already lowered between your legs.

“Please,” you whispered, using a hand to gently push his eager face closer to your cunt. That one word was all he needed to hear as he licked a long stripe up your pussy, and you gasped at the feeling of his hot tongue against your slit. He didn’t hesitate after hearing your reaction, suckling at your clit roughly as he used his large hands to spread your legs apart even further. He moved his mouth down lower, making you keen as his tongue slipped into your cunt. The slick feeling of it attempting to go as deep as it could made you twitch, and he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations only bringing you closer to the edge. He seemed to notice this somehow, and brought his tongue back up to your neglected clit as he slipped the same two fingers back into you. You tightened around them immediately; you’d missed the feeling of his thick digits inside of you. That brief session beforehand hadn’t satisfied you at all. He curled them as he pushed them back in, the combination of penetration and clitoral stimulation finally bringing you to your orgasm, and you let out a high-pitched moan as you came all over his tongue and his fingers.

He lifted his head up, licking his lips and staring at you, head cocked to the side slightly. “Ready for another?” he asked, finally pulling down his boxers. His cock was beautiful, there were no other possible words to describe it. It curved slightly to the left, but the dripping red head and the way it twitched, bouncing up slightly at the feeling of being let out of its confinement made you salivate. You wanted nothing more than to have that dick deep down your throat, but he’d already leaned over and pulled a condom out of his bedside drawer, pinching the tip as he rolled it on.

“I wanted to suck you off,” you said, frowning, “wanted to return the favor.”

“Next time, baby,” he cooed, “and next time you can be on top like you wanted too.”

The thought of a next time with Kang Taehyun made your heart skip a beat, your mouth watering with anticipation.

You flipped over, getting on your hands and knees, and he positioned himself at your entrance, blunt head nudging your swollen pussy. The contact made you swallow hard. The feeling of his fat cock slowly pushing into you was almost odd, since it’d been so long since you’d last gotten laid, and the stretch was just a little painful. He furrowed his brow in concentration as he bottomed out, gasping at the feeling of your hot walls surrounding his length. “Don’t worry about me,” you panted, “go as hard as you want.”

His grip on your hips tightened. “You sure?” he asked, big eyes locking with yours.

“I’ll tell you if I want you to stop.”

He nodded, biting his lower lip as he pulled out slowly, then slammed his hips back into yours, the contact making a loud smacking noise. You moaned loudly at the rough thrust, but he didn’t give you any time to recover, mirroring his actions but angling his lips slightly to the side, hoping to hit your g-spot. It took a few more rough thrusts, but he found it, and he knew it as you cried out and your front collapsed onto the mattress, arms giving out at the sudden wave of pleasure. He smirked to himself and continued angling his hips that way, balls smacking your clit as he pistoned his hips as fast and hard as he could. He let go of your hips with one hand, reaching underneath to find your sensitive nub. He found it quickly and rubbed it in quick, hard circles, chuckling as you began to snap out of it and push your hips back into his thrusts, matching his pace.

“F—fuck, Taehyun!” you cried, as a particularly hard thrust made you cum yet again, pussy tightening around him.

“So good for me,” he whispered, sloppy thrusts finally stilling as he reached his high, releasing his sticky fluids into the condom.

He pulled out as soon as he finished riding out his orgasm, then left the room as he removed the condom, tossing it in the trash as he came back with towels. He threw one to you as you groaned and stood up on shaky legs.

“It was fun, princess,” he said, pulling his clothes back on. “It was fun.”

TWENTY-TWO DAYS LEFT

You don’t remember what time you got home, but you do know that it was in the early hours of the morning, and you were almost caught under the shower of the sprinklers that your mother timed to go off every morning before the sun rose. You’d slipped through your bedroom window, shoes in hand just as you heard the choking noises of the little spigots beginning to spout water, and closed your window behind you just as you heard the noises of your parents shifting around in the room down the hall.

You also don’t remember the last time you’d had such a good fuck. Taehyun was everything you’d been craving all summer, and you cursed at whatever higher being there was that prevented him from coming sooner and ending your dry spell that had been going on ever since you came back home. Sore yet satisfied, you crawled into bed with an alarm set to go off in just a few hours when you promised to take Taehyun to the best brunch place in town—more like the only decent brunch place in town, but the point still stood.

When you awoke to your blaring alarm, the noisy beeps etching their sounds into your eardrums, you blinked blearily at the late morning light that was strewn across your wrinkled sheets, an effect of your failure to close your curtains early in the morning when you got home. You felt sweaty and not very well-rested, but you’d made a promise, and a text from the one you’d made that promise to made you jump out of bed, excited for some odd reason even though you were just going to the brunch place you’d been frequenting since high school.

Hopping around your bedroom after your shower, holding your towel up with one hand as you tried to find something decent to wear, made you feel like a teenager straight out of a bad, cheesy rom-com, and you felt embarrassed even though no one was around to see you trip over your own foot and nearly face-plant into a pile of dirty laundry. You got ready with one hand as you held your phone in the other, trying to reply to a bunch of texts from Beomgyu that you’d ignored all night and all morning. You groaned as your phone started buzzing with a video call request from him. “I’m kind of busy,” you said stoutly, peering into your mirror as you tried to yank a pair of too-small shorts off.

“With what? You never have shit going on,” Beomgyu said, making you shoot a glare at your phone. “Are you coming over again today? Kai bought me a fuck-ton of ice cream because he still feels bad for breaking my car.”

“I’m going to brunch with someone,” you said, finally settling on a decent outfit that wasn’t from your high school days nor too casual. You sighed happily, smoothing your hair back with one hand, feeling much more refreshed than you had just an hour ago, and especially compared to how you felt after climbing through your window after the best sex of your life.

“What? Who? Don’t tell me you’re going with Ryujin—god that bitch is annoying.”

“I like Ryujin,” you snapped, “don’t talk shit. But no, I’m going with some guy that just moved here. It’s a long story.”

“Am I going to have to come save you if he tries something funny?” Beomgyu set his phone down on his kitchen counter, and you heard him open his freezer, presumably to get some of the ice cream he had previously mentioned. He popped back into frame with a spoon and a pint of brownie batter flavored ice cream.

“No, I trust him,” you said, “I have to go now.”

“Tell me what happens!” he yelled, before you ended the call and stuffed your phone into your pocket, already dreading having to explain the entire thing to Beomgyu, who was sure to make fun of you for sneaking through your window like a disobedient teenager.

The brunch place wasn’t crowded, but then again, it never was. You got out of your car, fanning your face with your hand, shocked and disturbed by the sheer heat that was radiating off of the asphalt. “(Y/N)!” Taehyun’s voice called, and it took you less than a second to match the voice to the person. Taehyun was leaning against the outside of the building, clad in a casual outfit that fit his body so well it should be illegal. His dark jeans were loose and baggy, yet he made them seem chic, and he had an oversized blazer on top of his t-shirt, upscaling the entire look. A few pieces of well-chosen jewelry topped it off, making you want to rip everything off of him right then and there—though you were obviously able to hold back.

“You look… good,” you said, looking him up and down, and he chuckled at your reaction.

“So do you,” he marveled, and he opened the door for you kindly, making your face flush as you walked past him, into the restaurant that was luckily a much lower temperature.

The restaurant was more than familiar; you’d had a booth with your name on it for years and years now. But as you slid into the seat and felt underneath the sticky table for where you’d carved your name way back when, you realized with a bittersweet smile that this was probably one of the last times you’d come here before you left. You didn’t move your fingers away from your name after that realization, tracing the letters over and over while continuously glancing over at Taehyun, watching him look over the menu, something you didn’t need to do since you had it all practically memorized. “What’re you getting?” you asked, pursing your pretty lips.

“Not sure yet,” he mused, “what’s good?”

“The waffles are pretty good,” you said without looking down at the greasy laminated selection, “especially if you order them with fruit preserves. They’re made by the owners in the autumn and used year-round.”

Taehyun hummed in delight, drumming his deliciously long fingers across the tabletop, unconsciously following the rhythm of the old air conditioning unit in the back of the building—it was so loud that you could hear it over the chatter of all the customers. “I think… I’ll get an Americano, too?”

“I hear that Americanos are pretty popular in Korea,” you said, placing your chin atop your laced fingers, looking up at Taehyun through fluttered lashes, “is that right?”

“It is,” he replied, finally putting down his menu, “you better get used to it. A lot of foreigners think it’s way too bitter.”

“Funny, that’s exactly what I think of it too.” Taehyun wrinkled his nose at you; he very much liked Americanos, and once the waitress came around he ordered two of them, claiming that once you got used to the bitterness it was actually quite good.

It was quite odd to sit there in your booth, knowing that you were probably never coming back. You even told the owner, who’d come out to see you especially; he’d known you since you were a kid, and he let out a low whistle, propping up his elbow on the top of your booth, saying that he sure would miss you, and that if you ever did come back the booth would always be reserved for you. Taehyun froze up during these situations, you realized; that was one of his few flaws. Or maybe it couldn’t really count as a flaw, because after all, he was still very new to town and felt awkward with people for a reason, but for some reason you found yourself wanting this to count as a flaw. You wanted reasons to not like him as much as you did, which had never really happened before—usually, there were always valid reasons to dislike someone, especially someone that you were romantically involved with in some way.

And then you wondered, did his obsession with Americanos count as a flaw? As you watched him sip his iced coffee through a paper straw, frowning as it quite literally disintegrated in his mouth, you thought that perhaps it wasn’t—and you took another tongue-spasm filled sip from your own Americano.

EIGHTEEN DAYS LEFT

“For some reason, hanging out with you like this really makes me feel like I’m in high school again,” you mused, hanging upside down on your swing. You felt the very top of your head graze the wood-chip-filled box of the playground, and you swung yourself back upwards, feeling the blood that had pooled in your head begin to flow back down, making you feel dizzy. You held on extra tight to the sun-warmed chains that attached the flat black seat to the sturdy poles, cemented deep in the ground.

“I make you feel young again? Something like that?” he asked, and you turned to look at him once your head stopped spinning. He was mirroring your actions and hanging upside-down, lanky lower limbs sticking up straight in the air, his long feet clad in dirty Converse dangling, a stark contrast from the cloudless, blue sky they were up against. You watched as his silver hair brushed against the wood chips, just as your hair had. “Come back down here, I feel stupid doing this by myself.”

Wordlessly, you let yourself fall, catching yourself at the last second, until your gaze was met with your own shoes in the air, right next to Taehyun’s, against the periwinkle canvas. “No, not really,” you said, dragging out the last syllable. He knocked his shoe against yours, making you swing from side to side. “I think… maybe it’s just being back in my hometown for so long, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. I feel like I’m a kid again.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said bluntly, “once you move it’ll never be like this again.”

“So sentimental,” you said sarcastically, bumping your own shoe against him to make him rock sideways too, “just let me be nostalgic for a minute without reminding me of my rapidly approaching future.”

Taehyun didn’t reply, and for a moment you worry that you offended him somehow, but when you look over at him you realize that it’s because he’s too busy feeling around his messy hair to pick stray wood chips out from his snarled locks. “Need help?” you ask, and he nods. You swing yourself back up, almost enjoying the rush as your body righted itself, and stand behind Taehyun as he digs the toes of his shoes into the dirt, making sure he doesn’t swing back and hit you as you comb through his tangled hair with your fingers, plucking out small pieces of wood and other debris that had managed to find a home in his pretty silver locks. It feels almost natural, almost domestic, and you catch yourself wondering what it would be like to actually date Taehyun, before you suck your bottom lip into your mouth and bite down hard, punishing yourself for even having that thought. He was just some hot guy that you were hooking up with, and that’s it.

“Do you think you’ll ever come back here?” Taehyun asks you, the question surprising you due to how out of the blue it was.

“To live? Or to visit?” You’ve now picked all of the wood chips out of his hair, but you don’t want to stop playing with the soft tendrils just yet, so you pretend that there’s more as your fingertips gently graze against his scalp, making a shiver run down his spine at the contact.

“Either.”

“To visit? Definitely. I can’t just forget about my parents,” you scolded, yanking on a piece of his hair, and he groans, trying to swat your hands away. “But to live here again…? I don’t think so. I’ve had my fill of this place, and I want to travel.”

Taehyun doesn’t reply again, but he stands up, long, lithe fingers slowly dropping from the chain that was attached to his swing as he looks you up and down. “You have wood chips in your hair too,” he said, and you bring a self-conscious hand up to your head, patting various places as you try to locate the whereabouts of said wood chips. “Want me to get them?”

You hesitate for a moment, and he realizes this, wide eyes softening at your moment of panic. “Okay,” you say after a pregnant pause, and you take his seat on his swing. Taehyun notes with admiration how you carefully wedge your way onto the plastic seat one side at a time, wiggling backwards only once you know it’s sturdy and safe. Your hands grip the chains tightly, and he wonders if you’re afraid of falling, even though it’s not high up in the slightest, and your feet touch the ground just as his do. Carefully, he does the same thing you did to him, combing through your hair with gentle fingers and plucking out every wood chip, every pebble, every piece of dry grass that had nested there. “What about you?” you asked, “how long will you stay here?”

Taehyun exhaled deeply, feeling his lungs expand and contract with the deep breaths. “Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, pausing his careful movements for a moment to look up at the sky again. “I wanted to stay here for a year first and see how things went, to see if I even liked the area. So I’ll probably stick to that for now. Ask me again in a year.”

“I won’t be here in a year,” you reminded him gently.

“I’ll have your parents ask me,” he corrected, “then they’ll relay the information to you.”

Indignantly, you turn around while he still has a piece of your hair held tightly in his left hand, and you wince as it pulls. “What, you can’t tell me yourself?”

Taehyun feels horrible for some reason, though he knows you’re just joking. “We’ll be in different countries. Can’t text without wasting massive amounts of data,” he says knowingly, and his voice is so calm, his tone so even, that you wonder if he even cares at all. “But… the information will find its way to you, one way or another.”

“Will we write letters to each other?” you wondered aloud.

“Wouldn’t that be even more expensive than just texting?” he asks, letting go of your final lock of clean hair. “Done.”

“Maybe we should practice,” you said, “because I leave tomorrow to go on vacation with my family.”

Taehyun swallows hard—why didn’t you tell him earlier? He’d wanted to ask you the best place to get Korean food in town; he was feeling homesick and wanted food that reminded him of home. “For how long?” he asks, tamping down that feeling of entitlement; you didn’t have to tell him everything—after all, all you were doing was hooking up and showing him around town before you left.

“Five days.”

“Will I see you when you get back?”

“Of course you will.” You reassure Taehyun, but wish that he’d seemed more upset that you had five less days together. That nagging feeling of wanting him to care about you and the future of your relationship was beginning to return, even though you’d pushed it so far down you’d forgotten about it for a few days. You hated that feeling.

“Then maybe we should practice,” he agreed, nodding slowly.

And you both made a promise that you knew you had no intentions of keeping, because neither of you wrote nor received a single letter for those five days.

THIRTEEN DAYS LEFT

The five days away from Taehyun should have been blissful, filled with endless fruity drinks and the salty tang of the ocean water kissing your sun-warmed skin, but instead you found endless grains of sand wedging their way into unsavory places and a crowded beach full of crying children—evidently, not a good time.

And perhaps you should have prepared yourself for the disappointment, though you shouldn’t have been disappointed regardless when you realized Taehyun wouldn’t be writing you any letters. That was the sort of thing that you did with your significant other, not some rando you were fucking to pass the time. But you found yourself in your hotel room more often than not, cheap, half-dry pen in hand as you stared down at the pad of paper labeled with the hotel name, wondering if you should write him a little something anyways.

You spent most of those five days doing exactly that, and when you weren’t, you were sunbathing while writing imaginary letters to the handsome man in your head, hoping that he was doing the same for you, even though you knew deep down in your heart he definitely wasn’t.

As it always was, arriving back home after a long vacation felt semi-bittersweet; though you hadn’t enjoyed it nearly as much as you thought you would, you still missed the warm ocean and the endless drinks, and being home was just so boring in comparison. You decided that if you ever became rich, you would move to a sunny place just like that and live out the rest of your day there, relaxing with no worries, and certainly no concerns about letters from someone who wasn’t supposed to mean anything to you. You found yourself slathering on sunscreen and tip-toeing down the stairs in your backyard to crawl back onto your mother’s patio furniture, ignoring how you now had a lack of cheap plastic sunglasses and a face-full of bright sunlight. You sipped at a smoothie you’d messily put together in hopes that it would mimic the drinks you had on vacation, but it paled in comparison, and you half-wished you hadn’t even bothered making it with how disappointing it was.

“I thought you said we would see each other again when you came back.”

“I’ve only been back for a few hours, clingy much?” You sit up in your chair and look across the backyard to the source of the voice, immediately spotting Taehyun hanging over your fence.

“Five days is a long time,” he said, “how much longer would you make me wait?”

“Get used to it,” you said, “you know why.”

“I’m not being serious,” he countered, climbing up on the lowest rung of the fence. He swung one lanky leg over the top and then brought over the remaining limb, stumbling only a little as he held onto the wooden bars. “But you didn’t text me to tell me you were back.”

“I said five days,” you said, picking up your smoothie just so you’d have something to do with your hands, “I’ve never lied to you yet, have I?”

“I guess not.” Taehyun walked over and sat in the chair next to yours. “How was it? Your vacation?”

“Great,” you said, lying through your teeth, “so much… sun. And hot people. Half-naked hot people.”

“You sound like a really sheltered person who just saw porn for the first time, you know that?” Taehyun picked up your smoothie as soon as you put it down and captured the straw between his lips. “This is good. Did you make it yourself?”

“What do you want me to say, I missed you or something?” you asked, scowling at him.

“At least say that you missed the sex,” he said, “I know I did.”

“What if I hooked up with other people while I was on vacation?” you asked.

“Did you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t really, but you’re insinuating that you did.”

You felt your chest clench at his callous words. “Yeah, well, I didn’t. I’m on vacation with my parents, you really think I was fucking people left and right?”

“You’re fucking someone now while you’re living with your parents,” he pointed out.

“Alright, whatever,” you mumbled. “Like you said, you don’t care, and it doesn’t matter anyways. I’m home now.”

Taehyun shrugged. “Are you coming over tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course,” he said, and your heart swelled for just a moment before he continued, “it’s been five days since we last had sex.” He stood up and put your empty smoothie cup down. “I have to go now, but in that case, I’ll see you tonight.” You watched as he casually walked across your yard, leaving footprints in the freshly watered grass, and hopped your fence again, disappearing from your sight as he turned the corner.

—

Beomgyu’s words rang in your ears as you slowly opened your window and poked your head out to look around, making sure the coast was clear. Sneaking out your window like you’re in high school again?

It melded with the way you’d pointed out how being with Taehyun made you feel like a kid again, and you didn’t really like the feeling. You’d spent your high school years messing with people that hurt your feelings over and over again, and whatever you had going on with Taehyun now, though you’d begun it as something with no strings attached, was beginning to be much too reminiscent of that. The way you were sneaking around only added to that.

Making sure your bedroom door was locked one last time, you scurried across your room to finish opening your window, sticking one foot out and making sure you had a solid footing before swinging your other leg over the ledge as well. Your bedroom window was fairly large, so there was no squeeze, and as you shut your window as gently as possible to minimize noise, you let yourself exhale deeply in relief as you crawled across the roof and jumped off, landing on the oh-so wonderful patio furniture. The night sky was clouded over, something that you appreciated so that no one could see your figure climbing over the fence and rushing to your car, and the temperature was just cool enough that the jacket you’d put on at the last minute was deemed a good choice. With how still and quiet the night was, you felt it was almost a crime as your car started and disturbed the silence.

Soft music played over the radio as you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel. Taehyun didn’t live too far, and you probably could have walked, but you didn’t like walking alone at night, for multiple reasons. But driving meant that you had less time to give yourself a little pep talk before seeing him again, and before you could even really start you were pulling up in front of his apartment and climbing out of your car.

His apartment was clearly still new and badly decorated, though you couldn’t say that you had high expectations for a bachelor. As soon as he opened the door he pulled you into a long kiss, and you felt all of your worries melting away as you lost yourself in the man that was Kang Taehyun. “I really did miss you,” he said breathily, between kisses. He pulled off your jacket and tossed it aside, and you found that you didn’t even care where it landed even though it was new. “I didn’t say it earlier today.”

“I missed you too,” you said, truly meaning it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he picked you up and pressed you against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his slim waist and you locked your ankles as his hands groped your bottom. “Even if I did see someone hot while I was there, I wouldn’t have fucked them,” you gasped, as his mouth moved down to your neck.

“Is that so?” he mumbled against your hot skin.

“Out of respect for you,” you quickly corrected yourself, trying your best to not blurt out anything embarrassing through the haze that was your mind at the moment.

“I appreciate it, doll,” he said, before giving you one last long kiss. “But less talking. Let’s move this to the bed now.”

And of course you agreed, letting him carry you over to his bed, which you hated because it was perfectly made and the sheets were freshly washed. If he’d had nasty sheets like half the people you’d fucked before you could have probably gotten over your weird feelings for him in a heartbeat, but just like the man himself, they were pristine and perfect, only ruined by you.

“Remember,” you laughed, “you said I could be on top this time.” Taehyun pushed his lips out into a pout, clearly wanting to just fuck your brains out, but between your first time and now, he’d never let you really be in control, always flipping you over at some point and just drilling into you, and though you never complained about that, you still wanted to try something different. “Plus,” you said, your voice low and quiet, “you also said that next time, I could blow you.”

“That I won’t complain about,” Taehyun said, eagerly ridding himself of his clothes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaking cock on display, as you settled between his legs, clad only in your panties.

His large dick was almost intimidating up close, and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to fit it all down your throat, but you were damn well going to try. You spat onto your hand and slicked his hard cock up with your saliva, squeezing gently and twisting your hand as you got to the tip, making him groan. “You look so good on your knees for me,” he said in a strained voice, one veiny hand gripping your hair, “so fucking good.”

“Hush,” you scolded, but you quieted yourself by taking half of his cock in your mouth at once, making him moan as he felt your hot tongue swirl around his shaft. You tried to take more of him down your throat, gagging in the process, but ultimately you couldn’t fit all of him in your mouth at once, opting to stroke the base with one hand and use the other to fondle his balls.

Taehyun’s mouth hung open with bliss, pretty pink lips parted as he stared down at your head bobbing up and down on his cock, the feeling of his high quickly approaching. No one had ever played with his balls before while simultaneously sucking him off, and he was surprised at how much he liked it, as well as how damn good you were at it. “F—fuck, too much, princess,” he panted, using the hand tangled in your hair to pull you off his dick, “don’t wanna cum yet.” You pulled off his cock with a pop, pouting at the premature end to your enjoyment.

“Already?” you teased, climbing into his lap to kiss him. He didn’t mind as you pushed your tongue into his mouth, the salty-bitter taste of his precum all over.

“You’re just too good at it,” he praised, one warm hand squeezing your breast, and the other holding onto your waist, “you have no one to blame but yourself.”

You giggled at the compliment, then climbed off of him so he could settle himself further up the bed, back cushioned with pillows, cock standing straight-up, now slick with pre-cum and your spit, making it easy for the condom to slip on. Once he was comfortable, he patted his lap to let you know, and you eagerly climbed back on top of him after yanking off your soaked panties. You positioned yourself right above his cock, teasing him as you barely let the tip graze your dripping folds. “Are you gonna show me how much you missed me?” he said playfully, placing his hands on your hips gently, trying to sneakily push you down onto his dick.

“Not if you’re going to be this impatient,” you teased, lifting yourself up ever so slightly so that your cunt no longer touched his tip. His face twitched slightly, showing his annoyance.

“Come on, (Y/N),” he whined, bucking his hips up slightly.

“Beg for it.” You grinned, hands planted firmly on his chest, staring him down.

“I’m not gonna beg,” he scoffed, but his sour expression changed as soon as you lowered your hips slightly to drag along his length, and he let out a choked groan.

“You sure about that?” you asked gleefully, glad that you were making him suffer in a fairly harmless way; revenge for how annoying he’d been acting all day.

“Fine!” he shouted, “please.”

“That’s the best you’ve got?”

Taehyun groaned again, though this time it was out of annoyance, not pleasure. “Please, please fuck me,” he said breathily, big eyes shining in the dim light, and you swallowed hard at the beautiful sight, complying immediately. You sunk down onto his cock, breathing out deeply at the feeling of being so full.

You connected your lips to Taehyun’s as you began moving up and down, thighs already starting to burn, but you ignored it, the pleasure coursing through your veins overpowering your tired muscles.

“You give in quickly,” he mumbled, playing with your tits and looking up at you with a half-smile on his face.

“How could I deny you,” you chuckled breathlessly, “you looked so cute.”

“Cute?” he scoffed, “that’s the word you use to describe me as we’re fucking.”

“It’s true,” you said matter-of-factly, grinding down on him, trying to get some friction on your clit. He noticed and reached up to rub your bud, calloused fingers feeling much different than yours.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, bucking up into you, “gonna cum.”

“Do it,” you whispered back, legs finally starting to give out.

Taehyun squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of you squeezing around his cock. He was a little ashamed at how quick he was about to cum, but in his defense it’d been a while since he’d had you, and he didn’t anticipate just how good you’d feel. That, and the blowjob you gave him earlier paired with the sight of your tits bouncing in his face made him wanna nut immediately. Thinking of that again made him spill into the condom, hips jerking messily as you giggled at his expression and climbed off of him.

“I was actually expecting you to fuck other people while you were on vacation,” he said truthfully. The two of you were laying in his bed side-by-side, still slightly breathless and bare, covered by only his sheets. He’d turned on the small lamp on his nightstand, bathing the small room in a comforting, yellow-y glow, which you much appreciated. Every now and then you would look over at him and admire his flawless side profile in the warm light; the slope of his tall nose tapering into his pouty lips and his perfect chin, the shadows that his long eyelashes cast upon his smooth cheekbones, his heavily-lidded eyes that blinked every few seconds and jolted you out of your admiration.

“Why?” you asked. This time you were the blunt one.

“I don’t know,” he said, toying with a loose string on his pillowcase. He turned over to face you, and you felt your body involuntarily heat up at his steady gaze. “I just thought that you might.”

“Can you answer me truthfully?” you asked, mirroring his actions and turning towards him.

“I always do.”

You swallowed hard. “Would you have been upset if I did?”

Taehyun closed his eyes and let out a long, deep breath, so deep you could see his chest deflate a little when he finally finished. “I think… maybe. Yes, I would have been.”

You licked your lips nervously. “Why?”

“It’s not that I want to control you. You can sleep with whomever you want,” he began, and you nodded slowly. “But I like the idea that we’re each other’s, and only each other’s… summer flings. For a lack of a more mature term.”

“I’m sure there’s another way to put it,” you laughed, “that made you sound so corny.”

“And that is why I said ‘for a lack of a more mature term’,” he groaned, turning away from you. Your giggles died down as you stared at the pale, smooth canvas that was his back, and how it moved up and down like the moonlit ocean as he breathed slowly and evenly. For a moment you thought he fell asleep, but then you watched his shoulder twitch. “But… you get my point.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I do.”

SEVEN DAYS LEFT

It was Ryujin that texted you and told you about the party that a few local college students were throwing, and Beomgyu claimed that though he disliked her for the most part, she always knew where the fun was and he could appreciate that about her.

“I don’t know, would it be weird for me to go? Since I already graduated college and everything,” you mumbled, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder and combing through your closet with both your hands.

“What, are you a pervert or something? Some of these kids are older than us, it’ll be fine,” Ryujin said, “I’ll see you there, okay? Bring that guy you’ve been hooking up with too, I want to meet him.”

“Alright, alright,” you grouched, “I’ll see you in a few.” You hung up the phone and texted Taehyun, sending him the address and telling him to meet you there, which he responded to almost immediately with a simple ‘ok’.

You’d been to the location before, recognizing it as a local frat house as you pulled up further down the street. In fact, you’d been to plenty of parties here before, remembering it fondly as the frat Beomgyu used to belong to when he went to the local college. You spotted the man himself getting out of his own newly fixed-up car as you parked and hopped out, pocketing your keys. “How did Ryujin know about the party, but you, a member of the frat until like, last month, didn’t?” you asked snarkily, walking up to him with crossed arms and a smug look on your face.

“A, I graduated,” he snarked right back, “and B, it’s summer. No other college I know has parties after school gets out for the summer, alright?”

“Does it even count as a frat party then?” you wondered aloud.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, “really, it’s just a bunch of people that go to this school, and then whoever’s home for the summer.” He kicked at the dirt, hands shoved into his pockets. “Where’s that guy you’ve been with lately? Is he coming?”

“Yeah, we came separately though,” you said, turning around and looking down the road to see if you could spot his car.

Beomgyu frowned. “Are you just gonna wait out here for him?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t know anyone, I don’t want to leave him alone,” you said, pulling out your phone to see if you’d gotten any messages from him.

“‘Kay, I’m going in then. Come find me, okay?” he said, after a brief hesitation.

You waved him away, and he disappeared into the crowd of people in front of the house, and you thought you could see the very top of his head bob up and down slightly as he entered through the front door. Returning your attention to your phone and your unanswered messages from Taehyun, you brought your nail up to your mouth to gnaw on it a bit nervously; you really hoped that he hadn’t come earlier. The thought of Taehyun in a room full of people he didn’t know made you uncomfortable, especially when your mind wandered to the idea of him finding new people to hook up with.

“You’re here earlier than you said you’d be,” his familiar voice said, and relief flooded your veins.

Turning to look up at him, you grinned. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here. I gave myself a little extra time in case I got lost.”

“I’ll admit that’s why I’m a little late,” he said, somewhat sheepishly. “It’s surprisingly hard to find this place.”

“It’s all the backroads,” you sympathized, “the first time I came here on my own, I was half an hour late. Be glad that didn’t happen to you.”

Taehyun held out his hand, palm facing upwards, and you placed your own hand in his. You felt his warm fingers enclose around your own digits, and you couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face as he gently tugged you towards the front entrance that Beomgyu had disappeared into just moments before, silently asking you to come with him. Silently, you followed his lead, and you couldn’t help but admire the way he naturally led you with no hesitations or awkwardness. There was something about the way he was so straightforward with you that made your heart beat a little faster; you liked people that could take care of you like that.

The inside of the frat house was a complete contrast from the outside. Before you’d entered, you’d taken one final deep breath of cool evening air, and looked behind you at the sun that was slowly sinking below the horizon, consequently painting the area in a blue hue as the natural light of the day faded. Once you entered, you were hit with a wall of warm, stale air that stunk of a mixture of sweat, various perfumes and colognes, and alcohol. It immediately brought you back to your college days, which you had mixed feelings about, but ultimately appreciated for the nostalgia. Taehyun didn’t let go of your hand once as you weaved through the influx of people crowding the area near the front door, and you tightened your grip a little as a group of people squeezed by the two of you, almost disconnecting your hold.

Finally, the two of you reached a clearing near the back wall, and you poked your head into the room next to you, realizing with relief that it was the kitchen, which seemed much less crowded. You pulled Taehyun into the next room, and with relief you grabbed two beers out of the mini-fridge, deciding against the large bowl of red punch almost immediately after seeing someone dip their sweaty fingers into it as they tried to grope for the ladle without looking. “It’s hot in here,” you said lamely, fanning yourself with one hand and taking a sip of your cold beer with the other, “really reminds me of all the parties I went to this past year.”

“It feels gross in here,” Taehyun said bluntly. “Honestly, I really don’t do parties, but I wanted to come with you.” He took a sip of his own beer then grimaced and put it down. “I also don’t really like beer.”

You frowned. “We didn’t have to come,” you said, “we could have just gone to your place or something, you know that.”

“I do know that,” he confirmed, sliding closer to you as a messy couple nearly bumped into him, “which is why I came anyway, because like I said, I wanted to come with you.”

“Well, I do know a place that’s better than this,” you said, nudging him gently with your elbow.

“Better than a nasty frat house kitchen? Do tell,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes but took him by the hand once again, abandoning your beer because Taehyun was right—it was gross. Your hand now felt slightly clammy due to the sheer humidity of the environment—if one could even use that word to describe the inside of a house, but Taehyun didn’t say anything about it if he noticed, and this time he let you guide him to where you wanted to go. You remembered the first time that you’d come to a party at this house and you felt overwhelmed—so overwhelmed that you felt like you couldn’t breathe, and some random frat guy that you didn’t know and never caught the name of brought you upstairs, assuring you that you would be okay. Then a year or so later at another party you brought another guy there to hook up. And now, nearly four years after that first encounter, you were bringing Taehyun there.

The upstairs was much less crowded than the downstairs, and you finally felt like you were able to breathe again as you guided Taehyun to the furthest room down the hall on the left. “Are we really hooking up in some random bedroom at a frat party?” Taehyun asked, squeezing your hand twice. “Not that I’m against having sex with you. But I question the location.”

“Stop thinking about sex for once,” you groaned, opening the door, revealing a normal but bare looking bedroom. On the far right there was a sliding glass door which you began to walk towards, letting go of Taehyun’s hand. The curtains were strewn open messily, making you wonder who was in the room last and had so carelessly opened their room to the world. You fumbled for the handle of the door hidden behind one side of the bunched up, sheer curtains, sighing with relief once you pulled on it gently and it gave way, opening the way for you and Taehyun. Immediately, a wave of fresh night air engulfed you, a relieving breeze caressing and cooling your sweaty skin. “This is what I brought you up here for,” you said, walking outside.

The little balcony was cramped with the two of you out there together, and you could almost feel him breathing down your neck as you turned to the side and gripped the edge of the low roof, planting one foot firmly on the wall as you hoisted yourself up, the other propelling your body upwards as you semi-awkwardly jumped up. “Come on,” you said to Taehyun, “it’s not hard to get up.”

Taehyun copied what you’d just done and gripped the bottom of the overhang tightly, knuckles turning pale from the sheer force of his hold. He didn’t have to place a foot against the wall for support, instead jumping up using both feet and pulling himself up with ease, settling next to you and placing his hand over yours again. The night breeze was slightly chilly, and you’d already cooled down since the time you’d spent inside. His fingers were still warm and comforting. You side-eyed him, and realized that his gaze wasn’t set upon you, but the dark sky. Unlike the time you’d snuck out of your house right after you came back from your vacation, the sky was perfectly clear. There was nothing blocking the stars and the crescent moon, glowing a bright white against the pure black of the sky, and Taehyun stared upwards, unblinking, as your cheeks flushed from how beautiful he looked in the pale light. “You know, there’s only seven days left,” he said, breaking the silence. You didn’t respond, reverting the night back to peaceful and uninterrupted. The only sounds you could hear were the gentle whooshing of the wind, dusting across your exposed skin and making goosebumps arise across the exposed flesh. “(Y/N)?”

“You know…” you started off, mirroring his words, “I know I’m sort of tipsy right now. But I feel completely sober.”

“Is it because of what I said?”

“It definitely helped me sober up.” You didn’t want to look at him for fear of him seeing your expression, especially your eyes, which were beginning to burn with tears, though they did not gather enough to fall.

“It’s the truth,” he said quietly, “it’s not like I’m being intentionally cruel.”

“Maybe that makes it worse,” you replied.

Taehyun snaked an arm around your body. You could feel the weight on your chest as his now-cold fingertips brushed across your windswept cheek. “Please,” he breathed, and you finally turned to look at him, eyes shining with tears that stubbornly stayed gathered in your lash line no matter how hard you tried to blink them away. Please what? you thought, but then he gently pulled you into a kiss, and your heart leapt and fell at the same time. But even as you felt your heart squeezing painfully, so tight you swore it began to crack, you kissed him back, knowing that you didn’t have enough time to think twice about it or be mad. And the way he caressed your face, the way your legs entangled, the juxtaposition of his smooth pants against the top of your leg and the rough roof shingles below, the way his lips molded perfectly to yours… it was something you knew that you would never forget, and that was both a blessing and a curse.

FOUR DAYS LEFT

Taehyun’s apartment was beginning to look more homey.

Every time you went over to his place, there would be less boxes stacked up against the walls, more decorations, more mess—really, proof of life in the previously bare apartment—Taehyun wasn’t messy by any means. He’d even called you once, bright and early in the morning, asking you which mirror to get for his bedroom wall, to which you’d sleepily replied something you don’t particularly remember. Now that you’re in his bedroom again, you can see that he listened to your opinion and chose the mirror with a gold frame. You stared at your reflection in it as you brought his sheets up to cover your chin, feeling oddly more exposed than usual.

“Do you like it?” Taehyun asked, noticing your fixation on the shiny new addition, “Kai wanted me to get the square one with the black frame, but I thought it was sort of ugly.”

“It’s nice,” you said softly, “goes well with the rest of your place.” Taehyun hummed in response, reaching over to his bedside table to pull out a joint, obviously previously rolled. In his other hand he held a lighter, flicking it a few times before the flame kept, and he held it to the end of the joint, holding the other end between his kiss-swollen lips. Even doing such a mundane task, he was beautiful, bathed in the now-familiar yellow light from his small lamp, also on the nightstand. You watched a small plume of smoke billow from his slightly parted lips as he exhaled, coughing a few times before offering it to you silently. He’d done this a few times before, but you’d never accepted. This time, however, you carefully took it pinched between your thumb and pointer finger, and mirroring his actions, putting it between your lips and inhaling deeply. It was bitter and just odd at the same time, very different from the cigarettes you had tried before, and you found an overwhelming urge to cough it up. Quickly, you passed it back to him as you did so, rough coughs wracking your body until you felt drool beginning to drip from your lower lip. Taehyun just chuckled and reached over to thumb at your saliva, wiping it away gently.

“It’s always rough when you smoke for the first time,” he said, “but if it makes you feel any better, you took it much better than Kai did. He almost coughed up his lungs.”

Weakly, you laughed, wiping away tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes from the force of your coughs. “When will it kick in?” you asked, slightly nervous, as you’d planned to leave quite quickly after you finished your business with Taehyun. Nowadays, staying the night felt too normalized, too domestic for your liking. You knew you needed to start distancing yourself from him a little if you didn’t want your heart to be ripped out when you left. But for some reason, you’d taken a hit, hoping that you’d be too high to drive home, and you’d be forced to stay.

“Maybe ten minutes?” he said, shrugging. “It’s different for everyone.”

You laid back a little as Taehyun turned off the lamp, assuming that you were staying over as usual. He snuggled into your side and pressed soft kisses upon your exposed collarbone. You gnawed on your tongue, only slightly uncomfortable from the plushness of his lips. “Maybe… I should go before it kicks in,” you said, pushing him off gently. You made the mistake of looking at his reaction, your heart aching as his big, round eyes looked up at you, brows furrowed. He looked like a kicked puppy, and you found yourself wanting to cup his small face in your hands and kiss him again, deeply, to convey all the emotions you were feeling.

“You shouldn’t drive,” he said finally, turning away from you. “I can drive you.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but almost as soon as you said that, you felt your head start to spin, and you blinked hard to try and steady yourself.

Taehyun cocked his head to the side, lips pushed into a disapproving pout. “Seriously. Let’s go.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled his shirt back on, and you turned away to do the same. Once you were fully clothed, he offered you his hand, but you pretended not to see it, pushing past him and making a beeline for his front door.

The night was as beautiful as a summer night could be. There was no breeze, and the air was warm enough to be comfortable without being too hot. If you weren’t feeling like such a piece of shit, you would have wholeheartedly enjoyed it.

You pulled open the door to Taehyun’s car, climbing inside and plopping yourself in his passenger seat. You refused to look at the small decoration dangling from his rear view mirror that you’d picked out for him at the same time he’d bought his new mirror. He slid into the driver’s seat soon after, and you watched his pretty hands turn the key and settle on the wheel as the car started up. Then you looked away, choosing to look out the window instead, head swimming, as you think you heard him shift the gear. You didn’t even realize when the car started moving, eyes shiny and unblinking as you stared mindlessly at the passing scenery. “How are you feeling?” he asked, and you had to blink hard to refocus yourself.

“Sleepy,” you answered, mouth feeling fuzzy. You thought you heard Taehyun answer, but you weren’t fully paying attention, and then you realized that the car had stopped again, and your house was in sight. “Thank you,” you said blearily.

“Of course,” he replied, and you climbed out, managing to unlock the front door almost soundlessly and close it behind you, not sparing Taehyun a last look.

The stairs seemed like more of a challenge than usual, and you had to squint to see the fuzzy outline of your feet in the dark. Your room was familiar and comforting as you crawled into bed, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep peacefully. But thoughts of Taehyun swarmed your previously clear mind, and you rubbed your eyes furiously, trying to manually shoo those thoughts away.

It was too painful, you realized, to see him again. A tear leaked out from your eye and slid down your cheek, soaking into your pillowcase. From sadness or from fatigue, you couldn’t tell. But you hoped it was the latter, because you’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t fall in love with Kang Taehyun, over and over again. And you couldn’t break that promise.

TWO DAYS LEFT

The last time you saw Kang Taehyun, he’d dropped you off at your house in the middle of the night, a brazen request from you after you’d fully realized that you had done the one thing you’d agreed not to do—fall in love with him.

Maybe love wasn’t the right word. After all, you’d only known him for three weeks. Twenty-one days. Could you even fall in love with someone if you’d only known them for three weeks? There were so many things that you still didn’t know about him, so many red flags that could be discovered. But there was one thing you knew for sure—the traits you did know about him, you absolutely adored. The way he asked you for your opinion on things—almost shyly, a stark contrast from his usual confident bluntness, the way he took care of you, even though you didn’t need it, you liked it. The way he touched you and knew everything that you liked, going hand in hand with the caring part of him. He knew your favorite drinks and food orders by heart, and he had no problem ordering for you when you went out, something that you always smiled at, but only when he wasn’t looking. The way he cared for animals melted your heart. The way he talked about his friends, teasing yet affectionate—you could tell that he really cared about them. The way he acted around you parents. The way he smiled. The way he cooked. The way he loved—no, he didn’t love you back. The way he cared for you. Yes, that’s the correct word.

Your room looked bare, reminiscent of the way Taehyun’s apartment looked the first time you went over to his place. Almost all of the personalization was gone. The only things that remained were the clothes and trinkets that you used daily, and those would be packed away in your last suitcase, only half-filled, on the morning that you would leave. Other than that, your walls were empty, and so were your drawers and your floor. And that too made you feel uncomfortable. You hadn’t seen your room this desolate since you first moved into the house as a very young child. It began to solidify the idea that you were really leaving, and that was almost too much for you.

Outside, the sun was setting, and you could hear your mother’s voice calling you for dinner—one of the last dinners you would ever have in this house as a resident, and not a visitor. You swallowed past the lump in your throat as you ghosted your fingertips over the tops of your upright suitcases, nails dragging against the material as you walked by. You did the same with the wall and the railing down the stairs as you approached the table, looking down at the familiar plates of food as your mother hurried around, setting down side dishes and utensils. “I made your favorite,” she said hopefully, looking up at you, “you haven’t been eating much these days.”

“I’m just thinking about how soon I’m leaving,” you said, sitting down and picking up your fork, “it feels really… weird, I guess.”

Your mother sat down too, looking at you with a furrowed brow, her concern obvious. “We’re going to miss you a lot,” she said, “but we’re only a phone call away. Just like when you went to college.”

“Yeah, but—but this time I won’t be able to come home on the weekends. I don’t even know if I can come home for holidays,” you said shakily, and your mother placed her hand on top of yours—when did her skin become so wrinkled, speckled with age spots? You felt yourself beginning to tear up. Did you really want to leave your parents like this? Your friends? Taehyun? The last name made a sob threaten to crawl out from the depths of your chest, but you held it in.

“You can always visit,” your mother said firmly, “and we will always be here. You know that.”

Unable to find the right words, you nodded, lips pressed into a tight line as you tried to suppress your emotions. You poked your fork into the food your mother had made—your favorite—and spooned it into your mouth.

As expected, it was perfect.

Well, almost perfect. The saltiness of your tears made the taste just a little bit off.

—

You weren’t sure what the night sky looked like tonight. Usually you liked to keep your curtains wide open, letting the moonlight stream in across your bed in pale stripes. But tonight they were shut tightly; you’d taken the extra care to arrange them so that not a peep of light could make their way into your room. As you awkwardly turned over in bed, trying to ignore the way your bed frame squeaked as you pushed it a certain way, you closed your eyes and imagined what it might look like.

In your mind, it was completely clear, just like the night of the party, when you and Taehyun had laid on the roof of the house, kissing under the stars. But it wasn’t chilly at all, no, it was warm, just like the night that he had driven you home.

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you didn’t hear the knocks on your window until it slowly began sliding open, and you sat up in bed, wide-eyed and cotton-mouthed. Quickly, you reached for the closest thing that could be used as a weapon, which just so happened to be a novel on your nightstand that had been recommended to you by Taehyun. As quietly as possible, you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, the wood of your floor horribly cold on your bare feet. You could feel the chill traveling up through your soles and wrapping around your ankles, sending a chill up your back. Goosebumps arose on all of your exposed flesh, and you slowly walked towards the window, eyes trained on the small movement behind your curtains. The hardcover book felt slippery in your clammy palms, but you gripped it as tight as possible, making sure that it wouldn’t budge. Gritting your teeth, you raised the book above your head, ready to bring it down upon the figure behind the curtain, but then they whipped it open, and you were so stunned that you hesitated, arms jerking and tensing up as you immediately stopped the harsh movement. “Taehyun!?” you whisper-yelled, arms shaking, “what the fuck?”

The silver-haired man nearly face-planted onto your floor as he wobbled, off-balance on your narrow windowsill. “You weren’t responding to my texts,” he hissed, finally managing to plant his feet firmly onto your floor, “I got worried!”

“Worried about what, exactly?” you asked sourly, finally loading the thick book, “no more sex?”

Taehyun huffed indignantly, turning around to close your window and pull the curtains shut again. “No,” he drawled, “about you.”

Your eye twitched from the unexpected softness, and you shifted, slightly uncomfortable and unsure how to respond. “Oh,” you said finally, lamely.

“Can I?” he asks, motioning towards the bed, and you nod. He sits down on your bed, just a little awkwardly, and reaches over to your lamp, switching it on, bathing your room in a pale light. “Are you gonna come sit too?” he asks, patting the spot next to him.

You still feel weird seeing him in your bedroom. It’s a mixture of your childhood, and he looks almost cut and pasted out of a different image. But you comply and sit down on your bed, though it’s not right next to him. His gaze drifts down to the book in your lap, and he smiles, though it’s only with his mouth and not his eyes. “You actually read it?”

“I haven’t yet. I’m going to though,” you said, hugging it to your chest.

“Will you tell me what you think once you do read it?”

“In a letter I’ll never mail, maybe.” He catches onto your salty tone and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, obviously knowing the source of your bitterness.

“Oh,” he said.

“I’m almost ready to go,” you mumbled, changing the subject, and Taehyun finally takes a look around your room. His expression is almost unreadable, though you think you catch a flash of hurt.

“I can see that.” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Are you… ready?”

“I’m well prepared, if that’s what you’re asking.” You don’t recognize your cold tone. It’s so unlike you.

“That’s not—that’s not what I meant,” he said defensively. “If you’re going to be like this I’ll just go. It’s obvious you don’t want me here.” He stands up, and you feel the bed lift from the lack of his weight, but you catch his sleeve, refusing to look at his reaction.

“No, please,” you mumbled, “don’t go.”

“Are you gonna stop treating me like shit?” he asks, and you feel your heart squeeze at the ice in his voice.

“I will. I’m sorry.”

He sits back down, right next to you. You can feel the heat from his thigh through his pants, pressed up against your bare leg. “Will you at least tell me why you’re so mad at me?”

“I don’t think I can say it,” you said truthfully, “so I don’t think so. It doesn’t matter, anyways. In two days, you won’t have to ever worry about me again.”

“Can you stop talking like that?” His voice is exasperated.

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t give a shit about you. You know I care about you.”

“Yeah. Right.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and you take a peek at him. You realize that his dark black roots are beginning to resurface, the silver had been slowly growing out all this time. The first time you’d met him, his roots had been freshly bleached and dyed. “That’s what I’m talking about. Shit like that.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking that way. We were never supposed to care for each other,” you snapped.

“We weren’t supposed to fall in love,” he corrected you, “I’ve cared for you, ever since the first day we met.”

“Stop it,” you whispered, “don’t say that.”

“Why?” he challenged, “either way, caring or loving… it doesn’t matter. Because I feel both for you. Either way, I broke the rules.” His voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and your skin prickles at his confession, your breath stops. You don’t believe it for a damn second.

“Didn’t I just say to stop it?” you ask, shocking yourself with how your voice breaks, how you’re so openly crying about him. About the hopeless situation. “You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. It’s been twenty-three days. You can’t love someone if you’ve known them for less than a month. What are we, in high school?”

“Remember at the park,” he challenges, and you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, “when you said—when you said I made you feel like—“

“Stop taking it so seriously,” you mutter, furiously wiping at your eyes, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did,” he says, and you think you hear desperation oozing into his normally level voice. “You meant it and you know it. Stop lying.”

“Taehyun. It doesn’t fucking matter, okay? I’m leaving in two days. Even if you did love me—even if I did love you—it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Twenty-one days,” he blurts out, “we’ve only known each other for twenty-one days. We have two days left to tell each other everything.”

You swear you can feel your heart weeping. “Two days means nothing.”

“It can,” he begs, “please, (Y/N). We don’t have to be together. Just don’t tell me that I was the only one that felt this way. Please tell me you loved me too.”

“Fine!” you say, raising your voice just a little too much, and you freeze as you hear your parents shifting around in bed from their room, “I loved you. There. Are you happy? I knew I loved you from the beginning, I just didn’t want to accept it. And I never will, because I’m still going to Korea. And you’re staying here.”

“(Y/N),” he whispers, “I would never hold you back, and I know you do that to me either. That wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

“I know,” you say quietly, “and that’s even worse. I wish you were secretly a shitty person, because then I’d have an excuse to hate you. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad about… everything.”

Taehyun is silent for a moment before he opens his arms to you, and you jump into them with no hesitation. He’s warm. And comfortable. And the way he smells is so familiar to you now that he feels like a part of home. You nestle your face into his chest, and he doesn’t complain about your tears soaking his shirt. Instead, he hugs you closer, and you can hear his sniffles, feel the heaving of his shoulders as he tries to hold in his cries. You know him well enough that you know he doesn’t like people to see him cry, so you don’t look at his face, even when you pull away from him. You don’t look as he slowly tugs at your shirt, nor as you take off your clothes and hear him do the same. You close your eyes the entire time, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his bare skin where you know he likes it, and you wonder how you know where to place your lips even though you can’t see.

You reach over, hand fumbling across your crowded nightstand as you reach for the switch on your lamp, turning it back off so that your room is nearly completely dark. Taehyun had closed the curtains tightly behind him when he entered, and even as you squint in the darkness you can’t even make out the shapes of his body. All you can see is the dark, and not what hides in it.

You feel Taehyun’s warm lips on your neck as he sucks a hickey into your skin, and for some reason it makes more tears leak down your cheeks; it felt like he was marking you as his, so that anyone who saw you would know you had someone already. Not that it mattered, anyways.

You reach out to pull him into a heated, emotional kiss, and it’s a little wet from both of your tears, but neither of you say anything about it. You want to get this over with, but you want it to last forever at the same time. It seems that Taehyun feels similarly as you feel his cock nudge your entrance. “Do you have a condom?” he asked quietly, and you panic slightly as you realize you don’t.

“No,” you whisper, and he backs up, the lack of contact making you feel lost.

“Should we… not do this, then?”

“No,” you blurt you, groping out blindly in the darkness for him. You find his arm and pull him back to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s fine. I’m on birth control.”

“So we could have been fucking raw this whole time?” He attempts to joke.

You slap him gently, making the both of you laugh, and you sigh with relief and pleasure once you feel him slip in. He feels different this time. Probably because there’s no condom, but also because you know it’s the last time. He feels warmer, better, closer. You never really enjoyed missionary, because you deemed it boring and stupid, but you let out a little sob at how wonderful it feels to be so close to him. Your chests are almost touching; you can feel his pecs brush against your hard nipples with every thrust, making your skin tingle.

His lips hardly leave yours the whole time, alternating between long, wet kisses and short pecks, and you halfway wish that you didn’t part at all, even when your lungs felt like they were about to burst.

It’s silent save for your soft moans and his quiet grunts, but he breaks the silence a few minutes later. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, voice breaking, “can I…?”

“Cum inside,” you whispered, “please.”

Your pitiful beg sends him over the edge, and it’s odd, feeling his warm seed so deep inside, but you love it because it’s him. He doesn’t pull out as soon as he finishes as he did all those times before, instead letting himself soften inside your warmth, and you thank him silently for that, enjoying feeling close to him in those last few minutes.

The silence doesn’t stop even after he pulls out with a soft groan, and you hear him getting dressed again. Nor does it stop when you hear him walk back over to your window, or when he opens the curtain, leaking silver moonlight back into your room.

You only open your eyes fully once he slips back out your window, and by then the sun is rising. But you manage to catch a single glimpse of the clear, warm, starry sky before the blackness begins to turn lavender, the twenty-second sun you’ve seen since the day you met Taehyun.

ZERO DAYS LEFT

That was the first and last time that Taehyun lied to you. Because after he left your room that night, he didn’t come back. You never got another text from him, nor another call. And you didn’t try to reach out either. You knew where he lived, you’d been there countless times, but for some reason, even when you drove past that familiar road, you wouldn’t dare go down it, feeling your heart drop into your stomach at the very thought of it. Perhaps it was because then you’d know that was the last time you’d see him. Maybe his absence was his last gift to you, because now you wouldn’t have to waste time saying goodbye.

The morning of your last day, you and your parents woke up early. Much earlier than you needed to, probably, because your flight wasn’t until mid-morning, but you found yourself awake before your alarm went off, feeling more well-rested than you’d been in days, and you couldn’t sit still any longer, choosing to pack your last few belongings and sit quietly in your sitting room with all of your bags.

Your parents emerged not much later, dressed and ready to go, and you watched them try to hide their emotions as they looked at you, surrounded by your life packed into various suitcases and bags, and you in turn did the same, looking down at your feet instead of looking them in the eye.

The ride to the airport was almost silent. Soft classical music played from the radio, breaking the quiet, but no one dared speak. Your last few hours alone needed to be cherished, and no one wanted to taint it by saying the wrong thing. In a way, you appreciated it, but you simultaneously sort of hoped that someone would break the awkwardness, say something weird to make you laugh so that you could enjoy this time.

But no one did.

Even though you’d woken up early, you reached the airport on time, and as you gathered your bags yourself, hoisting one over your shoulder and dragging your overstuffed suitcase with your other hand, you bid your parents goodbye. Your mother was the one to finally break the silence, telling you that you’d probably gone over the weight limit for your suitcase, and that made you burst into tears, opening the floodgates with just a single sentence, and then you were all crying and hugging each other, saying words you never thought you could utter aloud to your parents. You couldn’t remember a moment where you felt so close to them, and it was right before you were about to be physically further than you’d ever been.

But as you turn around to finally, finally leave, after many “last hugs” and “last words” from your parents, you see someone that you hated and loved at the same time, and you drop your bags onto the dirty floor and run into Taehyun’s arms, sobbing and screaming obscenities at him. How dare you? I hate you! I love you!

And he understands all your half-crying, mushy words, because he says the same things to you. How dare I? How dare you! I hate you more. I love you too.

And he kisses you there as you’re in his arms, ignoring your parents and the people around you gawking at the likely disturbing display of affection and hatred, but you swear you’ve never had a better kiss. Maybe in theory you have, because his lips are slightly chapped and you taste salt from both your tears, but in that kiss you feel everything he’d been wanting to tell you, and you do your best to make sure he feels the same way. You push your feelings, your last words, everything into that kiss, parting only when you feel like your lungs are about to burst.

“Promise me one thing,” he says breathlessly, cupping your face in his big hands, thumb stroking your cheek.

“Anything,” you say, holding his hand to your face, not wanting him to let go.

“Live,” he whispers, and even though it was only one word, it reminded you so much of that kiss. Because that one word was all you needed. You knew what he meant. And though you couldn’t stop crying long enough to reply, Taehyun knew that you would have said the same thing to him.

He watches you sling your bag over your shoulder again as you depart, and you don’t turn around to look at him again. He knows why, and he’s glad that you don’t, because if he saw your face just one more time, he would have lost his composure and begged you to stay, and he would never forgive himself for that.

When he exits the airport, the sun has fully risen. The sky is a perfect blue, and he can’t seem to spy a single cloud, not one tiny white puff. The twenty-fourth sun that Taehyun sees, you’re no longer by his side, and his heart hurts a million times worse than his eyes as he stares directly into the bright sphere that represents everything and nothing at the same time. But he is happy, despite his clogged-up nose and puffy eyes, still leaking tears, and deep down in his heart he knows that you are too. And that is more than enough for him.

EPILOGUE (FOURTEEN DAYS LATER)

Two weeks after you arrive in Korea, two weeks after you’d last seen Taehyun, and two weeks since you’d cried your heart out on the plane, prompting a concerned questioning from the flight attendant, you receive a letter in the mail—your first letter to your new address in Korea. Only three people know of it, and two of them are your parents.

The third is Beomgyu.

So why the hell does the letter say it’s from Taehyun?

With shaking hands, you pull up a box full of kitchenware to your small table, using it as a seat since you had yet to buy much furniture. You turn the letter over in your hands over and over again, holding it up to the light to see the slip of paper in it.

Finally, you are able to bring yourself to open the envelope. You use a letter opener that you realized you accidentally took from your parents’ house, and it makes you feel like a real adult as you make a clean cut, rather than the jagged way you used to pry open envelopes with your bare hands.

There is a single piece of paper inside, and you unfold it, trying to act like you weren’t curious.

Dear (Y/N),

How is your vacation going?

You choke a little bit as you look at the date in the top corner and the first sentence. It dates back to those few days you went on vacation with your family, and if that wasn’t proof enough, his first words are.

He’d written you a letter after all.

You can’t hold back the tears any more, and you read through the rest of the letter quickly. It wasn’t a good letter by any means, it was awkward and full of stupid questions that he knew the answers to by now, but you held it to your chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world. To you, maybe it was, in that moment.

You look out your window at the thirty-eighth sun you’d seen since you met Taehyun, and you manage to scrap together an envelope, a piece of paper, and a cheap pen that was nearly out of ink. You look out the window at the crisp brown leaves, a sure sign of autumn arriving once again. It takes some time to think back to your vacation filled with almost every summer cliché, and it makes your heart positively ache with nostalgia.

Dear Taehyun, you write.

My vacation was good.

© petrichor-han 2022, all rights reserved

[preciouslandmermaid]

from high above, Gotham glows (battinson x f!reader)

Note: First Time writing Battison lol and uhh this one really got away with me so there’s a decent amount of Plot and Yearning before you get to the smutty stuff. LMAO. Takes place pre-movie with some generous fuckery with the timeline and off-hand original characters.

Additional notes: No use of Y/N. Dubious consent drug use (reader is required to take the drug to keep her cover secret). reader suffers from claustrophobia/fear of tightly enclosed spaces (only mentioned/experienced during the "fear scene"). established childhood friends with Bruce. cursing/explicit language. minor hurt/comfort. enthusiastic consent during sexual content. no physical descriptors are used for the reader. 

prompt: cockwarming, clothes ripping, balcony/window | pairing: battison/f!reader | warnings: explicit sexual content/above notes.

( read on ao3 ) || kinktober list  

“You’ve got Gotham under your nails, girl.” Falcone hisses, close enough to smell his shitty cigar breath, “More than that. You’ve got her in your blood. I can tell. And I could use a girl like you.”

You ignore your roiling, empty stomach that sloshes with alcohol. Someone leans down to whisper in Falcone’s ear – some goon, you gather – and it’s just enough time for you to slip away from the crowded booth. Your hands are clammy, and you wipe them off on your short dress.

Your bones practically vibrate beneath the thumping bass of the club’s techno music. The lounge is an assault on every sense. Sight: nauseating flashing lights. Sound: the music that rakes claws down your spine. Touch: sweaty, clammy hands reaching for your dress, your arm, your shoulder. Smell: cigars, and marijuana, and sweat, and cigarettes. Taste: harsh, clear vodka that burns and strips layers of your throat going down.

You stumble out into the misty and glossy Gotham and press your hand to your racing heart.

Was the intel you gathered about Falcone worth his grubby hands and gross breath? Surprisingly, the answer is yes. You eagerly get into your car and verbalize everything Falcone told you into a tape recorder. You’ll write down the rest when you’re home.

*********

Home is a single-bedroom apartment that’s only redeeming quality is the little balcony that views the sunrise on precious mornings. When the sun touches Gotham, it paints everything a reflective orange and yellow, igniting the city on fire without a touch of smoke. More often than not, you went to bed on the couch, watching that sunrise, watching Gotham burn.

You don’t bother scrubbing off your glittery makeup or removing your tight dress. Your fingers itch to fly across the keyboard. This frantic determination is what earned you the nickname “Quicksilver” back when you were a pulp journalist writing about missing cats and happy birthday columns.

Despite your hard work, both in the field and out, the Gotham Gazette refused to promote you. In attempt to prove yourself, you singlehandedly wrote an article that revealed the corruption of several Arkham State Hospital doctors. When you dropped the story on your editor’s desk - they fired you. You went freelance after that.

It’s a shame the Gazette wiped your files and withheld your work laptop. Your current laptop wheezed to life; their fans mimicked a jet engine about to take flight. Corruption ran into the very veins of Gotham. Her blackened, wet streets were littered with petty crime and shady corporations. Sometimes it felt like you and the Bat and Gordon were the only people left with a shred of moral integrity.

You click on the multi-colored lights that framed your balcony window. You are the only one in the building that kept the lights up year-round. They are your very own, personal bat signal. You flipped them on whenever you had important news to share about Gotham.

The blue light of your computer screen frames your face as you start transcribing your notes from your tape recorder. The soft click-clack of the keys and the sharp, heavy ‘clunk’ of the play and pause button are the only sounds that fill your apartment for a long, long time.

Batman’s voice is gravel scraping against your skin, “what’ve you found?”

You jolt. “Jesus.” Your gaze narrows at him, “we talked about knocking, didn’t we? Just a little tap-tap on the glass will do.”

“I don’t have time, Silver.”

You roll your eyes. No time for pleasantries, huh? Not even a shred of basic, human decency. You’re not sure what you expect from a guy who runs around dressed like a bat. Still – he’s your ally. You turn the laptop around to show him your notes.

“It’s worse than I thought.” You say, brow furrowing, “I thought – I theorized that Falcone was just using the girls to run drugs, maybe help establish meetings, but he’s – he’s got them testing some kind of psychoactive drug for him.”

“LSD?” Batman rasps, his shadowed eyes scan the screen.

“Something else.” You drum your fingers against your coffee table. It’s always a little silly seeing Batman, decked out in his heavy armor and big cape, in your cramped living room. It’s big enough for a couch, a coffee table, and your overflowing bookshelf – but that’s it. Batman swallows the space like a hungry black hole.  

“Injected – is my theory – based on his linguistic tell.”

His eyes meet yours over the lip of your laptop.

“He mentioned Gotham being in my veins. Said he could use someone like me.” The term ‘use’ was slang for junkies when they blissed their brains out with drugs. You look down at your exposed skin, at the translucency of your inner elbow, where a needle impresses, where wandering, greedy hands at the club try and grab. You suppress a shiver.

Batman’s question comes as a surprise; “How long were you with Falcone?”

“Few hours.” You shrug. His concern is sweet, but unnecessary. There is some truth to Falcone’s words. You were born and raised in Gotham. And very little in this city could scare you. Hell, when Gordon introduced you to Batman in a dark, shadowed alleyway, you merely blinked at Vengeance and proclaimed you needed some food if you were going to have this conversation.

You start to pace, because moving helps you think, “he didn’t give up much. He was too busy trying to impress me with expensive drinks and flattery. But he threw the word opportunity around a lot. He kept mentioning how he was the one on the ground floor of this thing.”

You fold your arms across your chest and stare out your balcony sliding glass door. “We know Falcone is involved in a drug trafficking, and maybe even human trafficking too. I’ll go there again tomorrow—”

“No.” The word tears from his throat. You spin, expecting him by the table, and your heart gallops in surprise at his close proximity. He practically looms over you. You peer up, and the second surprise comes in the color of his eyes, striking and watery blue, smudged with some type of black paint or makeup.

He says, “you’ve got enough.”

You almost laugh. “I’ve got shit.” You shake your head, “I don’t have anything to pin Falcone with. I’ve got conjecture. I’ve got a half-remembered conversation thanks to all the booze they plied me with. I don’t have names, or details, but if I go in again—”

“You said he wanted to use you.” Up close, you see the chest plates of his body armor flex when he inhales deeply. “You could get hurt.”

You shrug. “Occupational hazard.”

You stare into Batman’s impassive, stoic expression and his tense, tight jaw. Your resolve flares white-hot. The girls working for Falcone are actively getting hurt, being hurt, the longer you take to crack this case. Yeah, sure, you’re just a freelance journalist. But lots of people in Gotham read your articles. A big enough article should garner enough public backlash to cause the Gotham PD to investigate. That was your hope anyway. And if not—well—you had Batman in your living room. You’d give the evidence over to him.  

You lift your chin and set your shoulders, “I can bear the pain if it means saving others the trouble.”

Something ripples across his half-masked face. Something – you think – like empathy? Until his eyes drop pointedly to your mouth. Your thoughts dry up, your mind a wasteland, and a new, sudden pulse reverberates across the muscles of your heart. You slowly release your lower lip from your teeth. If you had any space to move, you would slink around him, return to the solace, and comfort of your couch and start digging through Falcone’s contacts. But – tiny living room, big Bat. Outside, you hear a deluge pattering on the balcony railing and the rooftops below. A low and distant rumbling thunder vibrates through the skyscrapers.

Batman edges impossibly closer and the front of your chest brushes against his armor. Your neck aches from craning upward to look at him.

“Don’t go back to the lounge.” Says Batman.

“You’re not my boss.” You quip. “No one is. That’s kinda the point.”

“What about Gordon?” His lips thin. “I thought you worked for him.”

“Nope!” You respond brightly, “I just dig around in sketchy business and stir the pot, so the PD gets off their assess and does their actual jobs.”

Batman grumbles lowly.

“I can handle Falcone from here.”

“I’m sure you can, Vengeance.” You agree with just the barest touch of sarcasm.

Handle Falcone? Yeah. He’ll probably go break a few of Falcone’s ribs. Effective for intimidation, but not effective for the truth. You’ve seen Vengeance in action more than once (he’s got a pesky habit of turning up in the same circles you’re investigating). But would his technique of busting skulls help the girls in trouble? No. It wouldn’t. Based on your assumption of Falcone, if Batboy was busy fighting, then Falcone’s men would just transport the girls – and the drugs – to another location.

You reach behind yourself and tug the door handle, “I’ll call you with an update.” You slide the door open and burst of wind pushes chilly rainwater onto your floor and your back. “I promise.”

Batman glares down at you. He looks ready to say something else but thinks better of it. You step to the side to let him pass. You release a relieved sigh once he’s gone. What was that? Why did it almost seem like he was going to kiss you? You shake the foolish thought from your mind. You and Batboy? Hah! In your dreams maybe.

*********

A single phone call changes the trajectory of your entire day. You find yourself at Bruce Wayne’s Tower. You never thought you’d be here again. You use a tissue from your car’s glove compartment to try and wipe off the residual clumped mascara from last night. You aren’t as blue-blooded as the Wayne family. But the closeness in age, and the friendship your mother had toward Martha Wayne, meant that you and ‘Brucie’ were set up for playdates when you were old enough to talk. You despised him instantly.

On your first playdate, you bit him. The Bruce-Free days only lasted so long before the mothers decided to try again. On the second, he wouldn’t give you your favorite toy back. This caused quite a rift. He was forced to handwrite an apology. You still have it – somewhere – in a shoebox.

By the third or fourth playdate, things changed. Bruce stopped some older kids from picking on you and shoving your face in the dirt. He earned a busted lip and your unwavering, childish loyalty. You started looking forward to those scheduled, routine meetings in his big, fancy penthouse.

Until his parents were killed and whatever fondness that was born beautifully between you as children grew distant and cold.

You frown and count backward on your fingers. Jesus. It’s been years since you’ve seen him. Granted, it’s not like you tried to reach out either. After the years of ignored calls and radio silence in the fresh, tender years after his parent’s death—you gave up on trying. Was it shitty behavior? Maybe. But you were like ten. You didn’t know how to handle the grief of losing anyone either.

You smooth the wrinkles on your slept-in shirt and pop a piece of gum in your mouth to calm your nerves. Oh, well! You can’t hide in the car forever.

You’re led inside his glossy, gothic penthouse. Your eyes snag on the polished, wooden table holding a vase. You’ve got a tiny, white scar from where you smashed your face into that exact table from running through the hall. Alfred gives you a polite, well-mannered smile before pouring tea.

He says, “it’s good to see you again.”

“Thanks.” You accept the pretty, floral teacup, “can’t say I was expecting a phone call from the Wayne house.”

“Hm. Indeed.” His eyes sparkled, “I, myself, was quite surprised when Bruce told me to contact you. He said he could trust no one else with it.”

You squirm a little in your seat. “Being vague to a pseudo-reporter is like the literal worst thing you can do. Care to enlighten me as to why I’m here?”

The only tidbit of information Alfred gave on the phone was that Bruce had a job for you. Although it felt a little weird to be meeting up with your old childhood friend under the blanket of professionalism and employment opportunity, your pathetic bank account is two overdraft fees away from being closed completely, so you really couldn’t be prideful or finicky.

“I’m afraid I cannot. He will explain everything.”

In that moment, the man of the hour decides to bless you with his presence. Your teacup clatters shakily against the porcelain saucer. His damp hair hangs in wet, slinky tendrils along his pale forehead. A shadow of dark stubble crests over his square, handsome jaw. He doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping based on his hunched posture and the dark half-moon circles under his baby blue eyes.

“Did you not consider getting dressed, sir?” Alfred tuts and shakes his head. Bruce sinks into the chair opposite to yours with a sigh. His dark, large hoodie and gray sweatpants drape over his frame like a blanket. His feet are bare which you find both funny and startlingly intimate.

“Quicksilver’s seen worse.” He grumbles.

You smile at the old moniker. “You’ve been following my career have you?”

Bruce’s lips quirk, something boyish and bashful crossing his features for a mere second, before he tamps it down.

“Here and there.” He shrugs, reaching for his tea, “I heard about you leaving the Gazette.”

“I wish it had been a more dramatic exit.” You sigh, “I can see the headline now. Sacked journalist gags Gazette with gory tell all of Gotham’s crime grime!” You drag your hand across the air as if smearing the headline into space.

Bruce exhales through his nostrils, a short and huffy sound. “Does it have to rhyme?”

“No, but it’s more fun if it does.” Your heart flutters when you look over at him (when did the gangly boy who hid behind pillars at charity events get so handsome?) You look away and focus on the ever-blooming pink roses on your teacup.

“Which brings me to my next point – why am I here?” You ask.

He sips his tea.

“How much did Alfred tell you?”

“Close to nothing.” You half-heartedly glare at the doorway where Alfred exited. “Said you had a job, said you asked for me.” Your heart does a strange twist. “Said you’d only trust me with it.”

Bruce stiffens. You notice it in his shoulders hidden beneath his baggy clothes. You’ve never known Alfred to lie but his statement, however true or not, made Bruce uncomfortable. You attempt to read his exhausted, sullen face, but it’s like trying to read a street sign within the reflection of a puddle.

Bruce avoids your eyes, “it’s about Arkham.”

Your eyebrow quirks upward. How did Bruce hear about that? Or was this unconnected? You shift in your seat again, sitting upright, attentive, and a scent not unlike blood fills your nostrils. Your old editor used to say: ‘Quicksilver, you got the instincts of a fucking shark.’ It’s a shame the bastard didn’t bother to fight to keep your big story afloat. Before Bruce even opens his mouth again, you can taste it—The Story. There’s something under the soil waiting to be dug up and brought to the light.

“I’m listening.”

“I heard about the story the Gazette wouldn’t publish.” Bruce sucks in a breath, “I want you to write it.”

The floor dips out from underneath you. You’re glad you’re not holding the expensive, delicate teacup because otherwise it would be shattered on the hardwood floor.

You balk. “What?”

“Write it.” He says with more certainty this time. “I’ll pay you.”

“Bruce.” You shake your head, immediately worried for his reputation, “if people find out you’re footing the bill to uncover Arkham’s dirty laundry…”

Something scared and small inside of you cringes at the idea of going into Arkham again. Then, abruptly, the face of one of Falcone’s drugged-out girls surfaces to your mind. Shit. If you do this, you’ll be fighting two monsters. Falcone’s dangerous corruption and obvious viciousness, and Arkham’s cold, claustrophobic corridors and placid doctors who – if you’re honest – have plastic smiles that freak you out more than some of the dangerous patients.

He says, “it doesn’t matter.”

God, he’s dumb. He’s all that’s left of the benevolent Wayne family name, and he wants to spend his days a shut-in recluse paying an ex-journalist to write a story no one wants? You want to shake sense into his shoulders.

You nibble your lower lip before asking, “why me?”

Bruce actually looks at a loss for words (not that he’s been a man of many words but whatever). His head tilts ever-so-slightly to the left. His eyes narrow imperceptibly. You twist the tiny sugar serving spoon between your fingers for the sake of movement, so you don’t start pacing in his parlor.

“Alfred already told you why,” murmurs Bruce.

All air whooshes out of your lungs in something that resembles a chuckle but is far too warbled to be an honest laugh.

“Even if I write the story, Bruce. What happens next? If I post it online, people will call me a conspiracist, or a liar, or both! And if it comes out that you’re involved, they will drag your name through the mud for supporting it.” You explain a hurried rush, desperate for him to understand, “there’s no way in hell the Gazette will publish it. And none of the smaller papers either would risk the Gazette’s wrath.”

You continue, “And this is all assuming my old contacts will even speak to me.”

You had walked in, ready to accept the job offer with a smile on your face, and now you were arguing against it. Why? Because you don’t want Bruce to have his name slandered? Because it looks hopeless? Or because you don’t want to face Arkham again? Or because you already have your hands full with the Falcone drug ring investigation?

You are uncertain of the answer. It feels like a little of everything.

“Write the story first, then we’ll figure out what to do with it.” He slides his palms down his legs, from his thighs to his knees. “There are papers outside of Gotham. As for your contacts…well…the ones who won’t speak to you are likely paid off by the Gazette, right?”

You blink at him. Holy shit. He’s serious. He wants you to rewrite the story. The damp, musty air of Arkham clings to the vessels inside your lungs. Can you do it? Can you tell both stories? Save the girls from Falcone and save the patients in Arkham? It’s a Herculean task.

But it’s not impossible. You told Vengeance last night that you’d suffer pain for the sake of others. And ‘others’ included the criminally deranged patients in Arkham.

You pinch the upper bridge of your nose and close your eyes. “Fuck…”

“You’re going to say yes.” Although you’re not looking at him, you can hear a faint smile in Bruce’s voice. A molten, nostalgic, and hungry heat unfurls through your bones. Goddamnit. At the end of the day – it’s Bruce, the scrappy boy who took a blackeye and busted lip for you – that’s who is asking you for a favor. You can bite and bark all you want. But you know you’re going to agree. Doesn’t explain how he knows it, though.

You meet his steely, blue gaze, “how do you know?”

Bruce shrugs.

You groan. “Fine, fine. Yeah. Yes. I accept. Show me the paperwork to sign.”

The rich bastard does actually have paperwork for you to sign. Which is like – hilarious and also ridiculous and your leg bounces under the table with each shiny, wet signature you leave behind. It’s basic non-disclosure agreement and ownership stuff that you’ve seen a hundred other times. You mutually agree to not reveal whose paying you, you keep your contacts private and secure, and Bruce agrees that once the article is complete—it’s his. You can choose to strip your name from it completely. He’s free to sell it to the highest bidder outside of Gotham.

Though, with minor hassling, he agrees to consult with you beforehand before it goes anywhere to print.

Once the business is done, you find yourself falling into sort-of-easy conversation. It’s mostly one-sided because Bruce’s life is incredibly fucking boring. He’s unlike the other rich elites of Gotham – those with their smiling, plastic faces on glossy magazine covers.

“What?” Your prompt, leaning your elbows on the table, “Not even a single torrid and gut-wrenching love affair to share with your old friend?”

Bruce deadpans, “no.”

“What about Alfred?”

“No.” A little line appears between his eyebrows. It’s cute. You stifle a giggle in the back of your throat. “Unless he’s keeping secrets.”

You lean back in your chair, “I’ll ask him on my way out.”

You talk about work because it’s easiest. You tell him about your other articles – both published and tossed aside. You tell him about your brief period, post-Gazette, as a private investigator (“It was mostly trying to find out if partners were cheating on each other and I got bored fast” You clarify, “money was good though”). You tiptoe around any topic that implies you have a life outside of your work. Simply because you don’t. You fall asleep staring at your computer screen, up to your neck in research, and you wake up staring at the same screen. It’s a little…embarrassing…to consider how hollow your life is, but Bruce doesn’t leave his house. It’s not like he can judge you and you’d give him hell if he tried.

A notification on your cracked phone screen informs you that you need to go. You’ve got a meeting with Gordon in an hour. You already passed information off to the Bat. Now, it was time for Gordon to follow-up with you on the leads you gave him last week.

“I’ll walk you out.” He offers, falling into quiet step behind you.

You tease. “Always a gentleman.”

His lips twitch. You think he almost smiled. Now, It’s not perfect. You’re not slotted together at the hip like you used to be when you were kids. And he’s practically your boss now. But at least you’re talking again. At least it’s something. That’s better than the years of static and loneliness and complicated, yearning feelings you endured in your youth.

You press the button for the lobby with a short wave to Bruce in farewell.

His long pale fingers suddenly wrap around the silver, polished elevator door and he stops it from hissing shut. His eyes roam your face like he’s trying to memorize the slope of your nose, the bow of your lips, and the arch of your brow. He looks …haggard – a little wild…like whatever he’s about to say or do is being ripped from his ribcage. Bruce is on a flimsy tether and he’s one rough pull from unraveling.

His voice dips low, stoking at an ember you weren’t aware of in the depths of your belly.

“You always used to close your eyes before saying yes to me.” His eyes pin you, their gaze darkening, and the rumpled slump of his shoulders tightens.

You grin. “That’s because you were an insufferable brat who always got his way.” You rapidly press the ‘close door’ button a few times. It doesn’t do anything, of course, because Bruce is white knuckling the door.

“Anything you need…” He trails off, then finishes his sentence with a gruff, “– just call.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave a hand, trying to be as nonchalant as possible with your heart trying to fucking escape from your chest like an Olympic acrobat. “I’m on the payroll now. Got it.”

You’re about to become the Queen of Multi-tasking.

*********

Fuck this fucking club, you think, as Falcone places his arm around your waist. It sends a clear message to the other creeps in here. He’s interested in you. Everyone else better back off or they’ll lose an eyeball. Your skin crawls. You put on a brave face. You giggle at his jokes. You pet the front of his blazer, curling up next to him in the booth, enduring his cigar-breath and fingers groping your thighs.

“How ‘bout we get outta here, sweetheart?” He asks, “I got something I wanna show you. Something that’ll make you feel good.”

You flutter your eyelashes, playing dumb, “really?”

Gordon followed some of Falcone’s cars to the shipping district and confirmed that Falcone was keeping the missing girls somewhere else. Gordon couldn’t breach the private warehouses without a warrant. And Batman has been MIA for the past two nights. You hope and pray that Falcone is planning to take you there now. You’re desperate for a lead.

“Yeah, baby.” He grins. “Remember how I was telling you that I’m getting into something big? Something groundbreaking? Well – tonight, you get to have a taste of it.”

You don’t want to be too eager. “Can’t we just go to your office?” You wine.

“No, no, baby.” He takes a long pull of his cigar, “I don’t keep it here.”

He signals for one of his boys to bring a car around. You don’t bother to hide your nervous and bouncy excitement. You mentally and emotionally prepare yourself for the car ride. So far, you’ve avoided Falcone’s mouth by dodging and playing coy and leaving before things get heated—but he’s a brute and a criminal. He’ll take advantage of the small space of the backseat. You’re sure of it.

Plus, he thinks you’re a runaway who is desperate for her next fix. He thinks you’re vulnerable and weak. He has no idea how wrong he is.

You hold the image of the missing posters at the forefront of your mind. You repeat their names as Falcone shoves his tongue between your teeth. You climb onto Falcone’s lap so he can’t reach between your legs and fantasize about Batman punching into Falcone’s slimy face.

Thankfully, it’s a short ride. You make a big show of pouting when the car door opens and then giggling as if you’re drunk at Falcone’s goon. Falcone leads you past some of the warehouses and into a small receiving office. You’re confused until he opens the door at the far end of the wall which leads into a narrow staircase.

Your lungs shrivel. It’s underground. You take Falcone’s offered hand and follow him down the stairs, counting each step, counting every breath. You hope the stairwell will open up into a larger space. You never did well in tight, confined spaces. You swallow thickly. You repeat the girl’s names over and over again like a mantra to salvation and sanity. Nearly halfway down and you start to hear low, echoing moaning. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from reacting. Falcone doesn’t look back at you.

The universe is downright cackling at you when the stairwell ends, and you’re confronted with a wider-than usual hallway pocketed with doors. The air is chillier than above and you’re in a black mini dress and fighting off a panic attack.  A full body tremor wreck through you. The urge to bolt, to run upstairs, digs its claws into you.

Falcone misinterprets your trembling, “don’t worry, honey.” He nods to one of his boys and they open one of the doors, “you’ll get what you want.”

You come face to face with one of the missing girls. Her cherry blonde hair is mussed over her damp, tear-streaked face. She’s curled on a mattress and muttering, quietly, to herself. It almost sounds like a song.

All self-preservation flies out the metaphorical window. Your heels click toward her, you crouch, and smooth her hair away from her face. Her big, brown eyes are glossy and distant. Wherever she is – it’s not here. And you’re thankful for it. Her hair is longer than her missing photo, but you recognize her. Her name is Karina. She broke up with her boyfriend and ran off after they had a fight. Falcone – or one of his people - must’ve grabbed her during the emotional turmoil and fallout.

Now, you’ve found her and there’s a high chance the rest of the girls are in the other rooms. You need to get to them. Gordon might not be able to shut this place down in time. The silver lining is that Falcone has limited security here. This is where he keeps the girls – not where he keeps the drugs. The few security goons you saw only carried pistols. You will get your hands on one. You’ll get these girls out.

You’re a journalist, not a hero. But doesn’t stop you from formulating a plan. If all else fails, you’ll reveal the ace in your sleeve, and tell Falcone about the tracker in your phone. It had been Batboy’s idea. It’s a one-of-a-kind program. Once activated, if you don’t check-in after 2 hours via a passcode, it alerts Gordon.

Come to think of it, it probably alerts Batman too.

“Don’t worry.” Falcone croons, “it’s more than pleasant.”

His goon grabs your arm. You almost jerk away until you remember yourself and let your wrist fall limp in their hands. You flinch at the bite of the needle. The world swims in vibrant, pulsing color. You cling to reality as feebly as you can. Whatever lucid part of your mind rationalizes that the high cannot last too long. Your tongue rests heavy in your mouth. The door echoes shut with a loud bang.

The walls close-in toward you. Shit, fuck, what the fuck?! Is the room collapsing? You press your hands to the concrete with a panicked gasp. Yes, yes, you feel vibrations. An earthquake? In Gotham!? It sounds implausible. Your mind is foggy, formulating thoughts through a haze of animalistic panic, your heart thundering so loud in your ears that you hear nothing else.

You hiccup, unaware when you started crying, your sluggish fingertips clawing at the flat, immovable walls that press closer and closer with every ragged inhale. A swarm of black spots dance like demons in front of your eyes.

You’re not even sure why you say—“Bruce?!” until you realize it’s because an earthquake is happening, and you’re stuck underground and he’s at Wayne tower and it’s going to collapse! And no one is going to be able to warn him and no one is going to be able to save him and no one is going to be with him and—Oh God!

The air is stale. You don’t have enough of it. You’re going to die in here. The realization hits you as the ceiling starts to drop. Tiny flecks of white plaster drop onto your head and into your eyes. They cloud your vision and burn. You want to curl up into a little ball and scream, but you suddenly remember you aren’t alone.

You grab Karina’s addled face, “we have to breathe slowly!” You shout to her over the noise of crumbling walls and plaster. “Slowly!”

You practice the correct slow and measured breathes to conserve oxygen. Karina doesn’t listen. She is crying. Her tears fall, fat and watery down her face. You keep trying to show her how to breathe like a mother teaching her child how to take their first steps. Karina is hopeless. She continues to wail and cry, and blubber apologizes and lamentations for her parents.

You stumble to your feet on the unsteady, shaking ground. Somehow, the metal door has withstood the ongoing earthquake. You’re not sure how this is possible, but you’re not going to spit on the blessing. Your fingers dig into the cold handle and tug. It gives way – unlocked – and you barrel into the hallway with watery knees. Another tremor of the earth and you shoulder into the doorway directly across the hall. Your body flares at the pain of impact.

Someone is screaming. It’s not Karina. Your face turns toward the sound. The collapsing world is a mess of greys and an off-shade blue that’s too unlike the sky and nearly nauseating. Every time you move your head, there’s an after-image of the world prior, like your mind is lagging and struggling to hold connection to your body and your visual receptors.

Batman is standing in the hallway. His cloak is billowing outward, led by an unknown wind, and you nearly collapse with relief. He can help. He can save Bruce and Karina and all the others. You don’t have to do it alone.

You scream, “Bruce!”

He reflectively jerks like someone slapped him. The elbow in his hand, held at an awkward and painful angle, is dropped. You lean your weight against the wall and stumble toward Batman to explain, your tongue still feels heavy, and your lips tingle.

“Bruce – my friend – my friend Bruce - you have to help him.” You grab Batman’s solid arm, heavy and black, but he’s the only thing not crumbling around you.

“There’s been an earthquake—didn’t you feel it?! And he’s on his own and someone has to warn him so he can -so he can get out. So, Alfred can get out. They live in a tower. It’s going to collapse. It’s going to collapse. Please, please, please, please. I can’t lose him again. Please, please, please.”

Your body won’t stop shaking. Your jaw tenses with a wild, deep urge to grind your teeth. “You’ve got tons of gadgets. Do a gadget. Help him. Help him, please.”

Batman is holding your face. When did that happen? You feel the heat of his palms through his gloves. Or maybe it’s you. Your skin is burning up. You feel the heat of it travel all the way down the back of your neck and across your chest. The words are slipping now like big slimy eels. Your tongue struggles to shape them.

“What did he give you?”

“Dunno.” You slur, your eyelids droop. “Karina. Other room. Help Karina. The girls. Help B—Bruce. Please. Please. Earthquake. Tell him. Hurry. Hurry.”

He squeezes your face, “Silver. Look at me.” He demands. “There’s no earthquake. It’s the drugs. Did you see where Falcone went?”

As if to prove him wrong, a piece of rubble falls from the ceiling.

It lands on him.

He collapses like a squashed bug. You shriek. The force of it renders your throat into bloody ribbons. You back pedal with arms flaring, blood hot and sticky on your face, and you trip over your feet. Someone is grabbing you, their grip strong, and they’re talking—but you can’t hear them. The walls are falling, falling, falling. You’re going to be buried alive. You failed. You failed the girls. You failed Bruce. You failed yourself.

You squeeze your eyes shut because to look would be unbearable.

*********

The next time you open your eyes, you’re in a hospital. The white and blue gown is itchy and fits poorly. You rub your eyes and work the muscles of your aching, dry throat. Your body feels…mostly fine. There’s some minor discomfort at the back of your skull and your jaw.

Gordon says, “Quicksilver, you gave me a scare.”

You probe your memory and glance to your bedside where Gordon sits. “Take it from the top, Gordon, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You asking me as my friend or as a cop?”

He straightens his shoulders and his mustache quivers, “a friend.”

“Finding Karina in a sub-level below a shipment receiving office. Falcone’s men drugging me.” You chew at your lower lip, “I think…I think there was an earthquake?” Your mind snaps to Bruce and to his safety. The heartrate monitor betrays your unease.

Gordon mutters, “he mentioned that.”

“Who?”

“Our mutual friend in black.”

You sit up in bed, “he’s alive?!”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“I – I saw him. I don’t know if it was the drugs or if it was real…but he was there.” You fuss at the sheets pooled around your waist, “I guess it was all a hallucination. Fuck. What was it?”

“The lab is running an analysis on your blood.” Gordon clears his throat, “we know it triggers the adrenal gland, and it induces auditory as well as visual hallucinations, and based on the other victims, we think it affects cognitive abilities as well.”

You make a mental note to ensure Gordon releases the analysis to you.

“Are they okay?”

“They’re badly shaken, but everyone is accounted for thanks to you.”

You weren’t sure what happened to Falcone and didn’t feel ready to ask, but if you had to guess—he likely weaseled his way out of there.

You relax a little into the pillows, “Gordon, can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Can you call my boss?”

Gordon smiles faintly, “I thought you were freelance. Untethered, I think, was the word you used last time.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh, “I’m allowed to change my mind.”

*********

Gordon gave you the rundown of what happened while you waited for Bruce. Your app triggered shortly after you entered the shipment office. Batman was following you the whole evening (because of course he was! He’s worse than an overbearing grandmother).

When you didn’t check in, he assumed the worst and followed. Batman found you, rambling and sweating and screaming about an earthquake in the hallway. Batman called Gordon who arrived shortly thereafter with EMTs.

None of the doors keeping the girls were locked. A stronger dose, Gordon explained, usually rendered your body paralyzed. He theorized that Falcone must’ve wanted to see how you’d react first, but when Batman arrived, he fled. You decide not to think about what could’ve happened if Batman didn’t show up.

Gordon leaves the room to take a call. You’re left alone with your thoughts.

You rest your cheek along the stiff, bleach-smelling pillow and stare out the window to Gotham’s chrome brilliance. It’s overcast, painting the skyscrapers gray, the big, fluffy clouds reflect on every giant window. They promise rain. And when Gotham’s skies promise rain—she almost always delivers. You sigh.

Bruce hasn’t been in your life for more than three days and he was your first thought when you were in trouble. It is embarrassing. It’s heart-wrenching. You were on a drug-addled hellscape of your worst nightmare and what did you do? You begged Batman to keep Bruce safe. The seasons change, but your candle to Bruce Wayne hasn’t. He’s ingrained into you. The little white scar from his hallway table. The folded apology letter in the shoebox under your bed next to the faded, sun-washed photograph of you two eating watermelon slices.

The door creaks open.

“Hey, no hoodie this time! I’m honored.” You smile and try to infuse as much teasing and normalcy into your voice as possible.

The treacherous heartrate monitor betrays you again. Your pulse is erratic from simply looking at him. Truthfully, he looks like shit. All bedraggled, and sleep-deprived, and pale. He somehow manages to look more hollowed-out from when you saw him last. You wish whoever kept carving out pieces of Bruce Wayne’s heart out of his chest would just stop. But, sadly, the truth is that Bruce is the one holding that knife.

You kick the covers off your legs, standing when he approaches you, “you shouldn’t—” He says, but he’s too late. Too slow. You throw your arms around him. You tremble, hot and biting tears burn inside your lower lashes, and your hands fist the fabric of his heavy, woolen coat. His cologne is earthy, masculine, and warm.

It takes him a minute to wrap his arms around you. But when he does—oh God—when he does that’s when you shatter. You’re not sure how you have the energy to weep after everything that happened, but somehow, against all odds, you do. You cry messy, snotty tears into his expensive wool collar. He clings to you like he might just fuse your bodies together through sheer willpower alone. It nearly hurts. You gasp, muttering his name over and over again, through the salt and relief that clumps your eyelashes together.

“I was so scared.” You admit, voice small like a child, “I was so scared something happened to you and that I wouldn’t be able to reach you.”

“Me?” He rumbles, “what about you?”

You shrug and pull away to look up into his face. “I can take it.”

Bruce’s hand cradles the side of your face. You lean into it. His hands are cool and surprisingly calloused. His thumb catches an errant tear and brushes it aside. He looks at you like he’s about to give you something. His expression so earnest, so pained, that it momentarily steals the breath from your lungs. Your exhale quivers through your parted lips.

He says, quite simply, quiet plainly, vocal chords rough and strained; “I can’t.”

It feels like a declaration. It feels like a confession. The wretched heartbeat monitor has not stopped relentlessly beeping and displaying your desperate, aching heart. Your fingers crawl toward his jaw. His stubble scratches your palms. His pink tongue skirts across his plush lower lip. There is a question lingering in the fathomless depths of his blue eyes. You crane onto your tiptoes, edging closer, and Bruce finally asks the question in his eyes—

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes.

Your eyes close, “yes,” and you nod minutely.

His lips graze yours. You close the barely-there distance between your mouths. He sighs into your mouth. It tastes like inevitability. He presses you snug against the hard, lean muscled strength of him. He is warm, and strong, and safe. You start to pull away, but he chases your mouth with his, humming pleasantly and pleased, you feel the vibration of it from his chest.

His hand on your face slides to the nape of your neck and he holds you, securely, and almost possessively. Your tongue glides against the seam of his lips, and he opens willingly for you. You lick into his mouth with a selfish and needy whimper. This feels right. It feels good.

The door swings open, followed by Gordon’s voice, “They said they’d release—” You wrench your mouth free and hide your face in Bruce’s collar.

“Oh.” Gordon clears his throat.

You burst into laughter, bubbly and bright, traveling all the way up your stomach and through your nose like fizzy champagne. To your immense pleasure and surprise, Bruce doesn’t let you go. His grip relaxes, but he doesn’t release you. You stay pinned to his side. Hip to hip.

You wipe the residual tears from your face, “tell me I’m going home.”

“Under supervision, yes.” Gordon’s perceptive gaze flickers to Bruce. “The side-effects of the drug are unknown. They wanted to keep you here but I – uh – I argued against it.”

“She can stay with me.” Offers Bruce.

“Hell yeah!” You beam, “tell me you have the same mattresses. Please.” The sleepovers were rare, but you had fond memories of those squishy, expensive mattresses and throwing pillows at Bruce’s head. After the kiss…maybe you’d stay in Bruce’s room? A tiny light of hope ignites in your chest.  

Gordon’s eyebrow lifts a notch. You ignore him.

“I have a guest room, yes.”

Well, that hope was short-lived. You stamp down on your disappointment and focus on the positives. You’re staying with Bruce. He won’t be a phone call away. He’ll be a few feet away at most. You can make up for lost time. Lord knows you’ve got plenty of it.

“Can I leave now?” You ask Gordon.

“There’s some paperwork you need to fill out, but generally, yes. You can leave whenever you’re ready.” He regards you, both professional and concerned, “are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod. “The less time I’m in a hospital, the better.” To Bruce you say, “can we stop at my place so I can get some clothes and my laptop?”

Bruce looks quizzically at you, “your laptop?”

“Mhm.” You nod, “for work.”

“I suggest we keep the Falcone investigation private for now, Quicksilver.” Gordon says with a worried pinch to his brow, “we don’t have enough evidence to charge him. I know you’re not really ‘The Press’ anymore, but you’d be doing us a favor.”

“Don’t get your tie twisted, Gordon. I’ve got other projects on my plate.”

Gordon hums, a deep sound low in his chest, and he gives a knowing glance to Bruce before leading you out.

*********

You try not to internally panic at the reality of Bruce standing in your awkwardly living room. His eyes roams over your bookshelves and to the messy, unkept pillows and blankets on your coach.

“I’ll just be a minute.” Your bedroom door softly clicks shut. You peel off the hospital scrubs they gave you. Your shoulder whines with sharp, throbbing pain. In the mirror above the bathroom sink, you prod the mottled bruises that decorate your shoulder and splatter like paint across your collarbone. You don’t remember hitting the door that hard. You change into bulky, comfortable clothes. You shove enough clothes for a few days into a backpack.

According to your discharge paperwork, the doctors advised you should be monitored for at least 72 hours. You exhale harshly through your lips. Three days with Bruce Wayne. What can go wrong? What can go right?  

Maybe he’ll just hand you off to Alfred and call it a day. You chuckle to yourself.

“Okay,” You swing the door open, “I’m ready—h-hey!” You proclaim, frowning, seeing Bruce holding your laptop open in his hands.

He doesn’t even look up, one hand on the keyboard, the other flat beneath it. “Your laptop is grossly outdated.”

“First of all, invasion of privacy. Rude. I should kick you out.” You sidle beside him and peer around his arm, “secondly, how’d you guess my password?”

His lips curve upward into a smirk. Your stomach swoops and awareness prickles across the nape of your neck. You’re relieved there’s no longer a heartrate monitor to blast your embarrassing feelings on monochromatic display.

He says, “I got lucky.”

“Bullshit.” You laugh.

*********

The sound of your laugh unravels something in him. He’s been so careful, so distant, and yet one laugh from you and he’s weak. He wants to wrap you in his arms again and ensure you’re safe. He wants to drag Falcone by the hair to the steps of Gotham Police. He thought he mastered fear. He believed himself immune to it. He is shadow, and vengeance, and righteous fury.

But, at Falcone’s drug den, he was helpless to ease your suffering. His failure plagued him. It is forever buried into the deep reaches of his mind. Every possibility of what could have been flashes through his mind whenever he looks at you. Losing you would be…his stomach sours thinking of it. He avoids your perceptive gaze and carefully snaps the laptop closed.

He says, “you should change your password.”

Your nose scrunches. His heart pangs within the hollowness of his chest. All at once, he is seven years old again, chasing you in the park, and pretending summer would never end. He’s refined the art of missing you – of your necessary absence – and now all those careful, practiced skills are turning to dust.

“Why?”

He tucks your laptop under his arm, “the code is too obvious.” Said code is his birthday. The password implies that you’ve not forgotten him—despite his distance, his lack of friendship. He recalls your glossy, wild eyes begging the Batman to save him. Falcone’s drugs clutched you in a vice grip of madness and you thought of him. He doesn’t deserve it.

“So?” You shrug, but a nervousness enters your eyes and gives you away. “How many people know we’re friends? Like two people, right? The odds of those two people trying to hack my laptop for information are close to zero.”

He sighs. You’ve got that fiery, determined gleam in your eyes. There’s no winning this argument.

On the walk back to the car, you continue, “besides, all my important notes and files are encrypted with a different password. I browse anything online through a VPN. And—” You keep talking throughout the car ride. You fidget in your seat. You chew at your lower lip.

He realizes, albeit slowly, that the excessive rambling isn’t because you want to prove a point. It’s because you’re anxious. It’s likely because of Falcone’s continued freedom. His grip tightens on the steering wheel.

“Falcone can’t reach you here.” He says levelly, “you’ll be safe at Wayne Tower.”

“Huh?”

“You’re…” He clears his throat, glancing sidelong toward you, “acting jumpy.”

“Oh.” You rub both of your hands over your face. You go quiet. You turn your face away, watching the city through the rain-speckled windshield. Bruce immediately wants to kick himself. Shit. He wants to comfort you, reassure you, not cause you to withdraw. He fumbles to find some type reply of that’ll get you talking again.

You reach over to the center dashboard and flick on the radio. An old, classic croons through the speakers. You rest your chin in your palm and continue to stare out the window. His fingers flex against the wheel with an errant, foolish wish to stretch across the space and settle his palm on your bouncing knee. The rest of the car ride is silent, save for the rain hitting the metallic roof, and the droning, sorrowful song in his ears.

*********

Bruce is painfully absent once you enter the tower. He doesn’t even explain why. He walks in with you and then vanishes like an impressive magician. You’re half-tempted to go knocking on walls and look for secret doorways.

Dory shows you to the guest room. She’s sweet and fusses over your comfort and keeps saying how nice it is to have a guest over. Alfred helps you connect to the wi-fi signal. He keeps you company in the room you’ve plugged your laptop into (the old beast can’t hold a charge anymore). You take notes about Arkham, you eat little sandwiches and fresh fruit, and force yourself into some semblance of normalcy. Alfred is a decent conversationalist, but you worry that he’s here to keep you occupied so you won’t go looking for Bruce. You push the thought away.

It's not like Bruce is avoiding you, right? He’s just busy doing weird billionaire reclusive stuff. You wrinkle your nose. What could Bruce be doing? Oh, God. Maybe Alfred is keeping you away, maybe Bruce has some freaky, embarrassing hobby. Like roadkill taxidermy and then he uses the taxidermy animals to produce original puppet shows.

Alfred says, “found something interesting, have you?”

You realize you’re smiling from the thought of Puppet-Show Bruce. You shake your head.

“I’m piecing together the etymology of the word Arkham to build my timeline for the hospital and the Arkham family’s influence. I want to see if any of it connects to the current medical board or the staff.” Your fingers continue to click-clack across your keyboard.

“It’s interesting. Usually, surnames will connect back to a specific occupation, or piece of land which you can cross-reference, but for Arkham there’s nothing.” You divulge these findings to a patient and attentive Alfred.

He smiles fondly, “I see.”

“You’re looking at me funny.” You squint at him.

“I’m just pleased you’re here.”

You press your lips together. A pleased, appreciative warmth prickles along your skin.

In the evening, Bruce doesn’t show up for dinner. And you start to wonder if you hallucinated the kiss at the hospital. But there’s no way, right? The drugs were flushed out of your system. You were of sound mind and body. Did he regret it? That is the only plausible and logical reason in your mind for his avoidance. He kissed you, regretted it, and now probably regretted having you in his house for the next three days.

You roll onto your side in the big, comfy bed. You can’t even enjoy it. Your stupid stomach is tied into knots thinking about Bruce-fucking-Wayne. You stare at the dark ceiling. OK. You can’t sleep. Fine. His home is temporarily your home. What did you do when you couldn’t sleep?

The chilly air bites your legs when you kick off the heavy, puffy covers. When the thoughts go loud, you go quiet, and focus your mind on something else. Bruce is dodging you, but at least he gave you something to do. Might as well be useful if you’re not going to be unconscious.

You’ve set up in the main parlor/sitting room/whatever-the-hell this room is with its heavy, iron lantern chandeliers and sleek, dark mahogany and bookshelf nooks. Your computer hums loudly to life on the desk and blue light spills across the woven, red tapestry rug. Behind you, the tall, cathedral-like window is sluiced with rainwater and pockets of light from Gotham below twinkle like an inverted night sky. Your files on Arkham flood the screen.

Your shoulders hunch forward, “okay, Dr. Mercer.” You mutter to yourself, “let’s see you’ve been up to.”

*********

He doesn’t know how to approach you as Bruce. He approaches you as the Bat. His cape and cowl do more than protect his identity from criminals. His mask is a shield. If he’s Batman—and not Bruce—he can do so much more. He can be more than just a man.

He watches you from the shadows. You’re hunched over your laptop, bloodshot eyes, fingers drumming on the hardwood, your face hardened and taught with concentration. You worked yourself to the bone, risked your life to save the missing girls. Not because anyone hired you to. Not because of the promise of fame or recognition Not out of ambition to try and get your old job at the Gazette back. But because you noticed a pattern. And you actually care. You brought it to Gordon, who gave what support he could within the confines of the justice system, but otherwise you worked alone. And despite the odds stacked against you, you succeeded.

If not for the tracker in your phone, he doesn’t know if he would’ve found you. Well, that’s only partially true. With the tracker, Bruce doesn’t know if he’d find you in time. But he knows – deep in whatever remains of his heart - if you were missing, he’d tear Gotham bolt-from-bolt to find you. He gingerly steps from the shadows, his cape dragging softly on the floor, and his boot intentionally hit a creaky floorboard.

You look up, eyes wide, and you don’t scream. Your throat bobs in a difficult swallow.

He says, “you weren’t at your apartment.”

“Instead of breaking and entering into my friend’s house—” Your brow pinches together, “you could have called.”

He is prepared for this conversation. The mask hides the slight lift of his brow. He steps behind you and peers over your shoulder to the computer screen. Your notes on Arkham are impressive. He doesn’t know how the ancient thing manages to hold enough memory to store it all.

“You asked me to check on him.”

“Yeah, but there wasn’t an earthquake.” You twist, turning your face toward him. A faint smell of mint toothpaste catches him off guard. The knowledge that you’ve settled into the tower, that you’ve done ordinary things like brushed your teeth and shared tea with Alfred, should scare him. But it doesn’t.

“Besides, I didn’t expect you to actually follow-through.”

He frowns. Has he already lost your trust in him?

“Why not?”

You turn back to your screen, shrugging mildly. “I saw you die.”

His breath hitches. How much pain did you endure from the moment the drug was injected? What other horrors did you see? And yet, here you are, continuing to research Arkham because he asked you to. He doesn’t deserve your loyalty. Anger rolls through his gut, hot and metallic in the back of his throat.

“You shouldn’t have gone near Falcone.” He grumbles, “I told you—”

You interrupt him. “And I told you I didn’t work for you.”

Yeah, that plan backfired magnificently. He assumed when he gave you the Arkham assignment, you’d step away from the Falcone case. He should’ve known better. Guilt, and anger, and self-loathing churn and mix like a dangerous, erratic cocktail. When you interrupted him, you turned around, and now he’s pinned like a butterfly by your gaze. Your nostrils flare gently as you stare up at him. Your eyes roam. He feels the heat of your eyes as they trail the square of jaw, the cleft of his chin, the shadowed expanse around his eyes.

“For the record, though…” You say softly, “I am glad you’re ok.”

His eyes drop to the curve of where your neck meets your shoulder. The T-shirt you’re wearing is well-loved, buttery soft from frequent washes, and a few holes peeking around neck hole hem. His frown deepens. His glove skims the edge of your collar. Your pulse leaps inside your jaw, but you don’t flinch or step away.

He hooks his index finger into the fabric and gently tugs it aside. A scatter of dark bruises splotch over your collarbone and disappear into your shoulder. Everything in him goes tight like a bowstring ready to fire. His heart is thunderously loud in his ears. His eyes cannot move away from the bruise even as he notices your breathing pattern change.

“Falcone?” He says asks, lowly, dangerously.

Your hand wraps around his wrist. “A door, actually.” You don’t pull his hand away like he expects. Your fingers glide over his glove and loosely twine over his. Your hand is much smaller than his. It’s a strange detail to notice in this moment, but it’s the only thing that’s tethering him to sanity.

“I’m fine. I promise.” Your thumb rubs across his knuckles. He cannot feel it. And for once, he’s cursing his layered and protective armor. He cautiously turns his wrist and enfolds your fingers between his. You bite your lip and look away…almost shy. This would be the perfect time to kiss you. The rain gently is pattering against the window. There are no sirens or Bat signals to pull him away. He tilts forward, preparing to drop his mouth to yours…

“I don’t think Falcone is at the top of this pyramid.” You announce abruptly. He blinks.

He responds, “what do you mean?”

You untwine your fingers from his and walk around the desk and toward the bookshelf and the window. You pace back and forth in front of it like a race car on a plastic track. Around and around. Several steps, then pivot, walk the same steps in the other direction.

“Falcone is a sleazeball and an opportunist. I know he deals in uppers. Drugs like ecstasy, drops, cocaine…” You list off, clearly finding comfort in talking your problems aloud, “they’re expensive and addictive. But the drug they gave me and the other girls…that wasn’t a party drug.”

He knows. He has a sample of your blood being tested in the Batcave.

“What’s your theory?” He tracks your pacing form with his dark, smudged eyes.

“I’m thinking about the execution of the drug and its effects. It requires a needle. It induces a panic-like state.” You shake your head in uncomfortable remembrance, “it increases body temperature and effects cognitive functions. Could it be used in a controlled environment for torture? Probably. But that doesn’t feel financially ludicrous enough to tempt someone like Falcone.”

“You think it’s a prototype.”

“Exactly!” You snap your fingers and glow from within. His eyelashes flutter at the brilliance of your smile. “See? This is why we work well together.”

He can see the threads in the air that connect one thought to the next.

“Falcone is working with someone else.” It’s not a completely debased assumption to make. Falcone has plenty of business connections.

You offer him a distracted nod. “That’s my theory.”

A notch forms between your eyebrows. Your gaze drops to the carpet, your thumb is pressing into the tempting lush shape of your lower lip. His heart careens into his ribcage in a desperate, love-struck attempt to break free. He can’t be with you as Bruce. Bruce has a secret identity, a secret life. But Batman is freedom. He’s the choice to wake up and try to make a difference. He’s fearless and fear inspiring. There’s only so few hours in the night and he can’t afford to lose them.

************

You explain, “it could be Penguin. It could be someone else. We’ll know more when Gordon has my blood report.”

It feels strangely liberating to talk this through with Batman. You can’t talk about it with Bruce—though you know he’s trustworthy, you’re not sure he’d support the…extremes…you take to uncover the truth. And you don’t want to worry him either.  Hell, there used to be a time when you never kept secrets from him. Where did all the time go.

You sigh, shoulders slumping, and cover your hands over your face. If only Bruce would stop avoiding you, then you’d talk to him! God. You hope he doesn’t wake up and find you having a midnight fireside chat with Gotham’s vigilante. That would be awkward. You smile behind your palms. It would be awkward first, then funny.

Batman says your name delicately as if he might break it on his tongue if he’s not careful. The warm, supple heat of his gloves wraps around your wrists and gently pulls your hands away from your face. You are unsurprised to see the grim, flat line of his mouth, to see the haunted echo behind his cerulean eyes.

“It wasn’t me who saved those girls.” He says, “it was you.”

You find the carpet infinitely interesting. Wow. What is that pattern? Eastern-European? Late 19th Century? Is it Dracula Chic? The detail work is fantastic. The color is so rich and textured—

He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes again. “You made a difference.”

You must’ve fallen asleep while working on the Arkham article. There is no way this is real. There’s no way Vengeance is complimenting you. It’s surreal. It’s impossible. His gaze drops to your mouth. His thumb lightly presses into your lower lip. Yes, this is definitely a dream. Your heart is pounding harder than the rainfall against the window.

Batman leans toward you, close enough to feel the feather-whisper of his breath on your lips. His heavily lidded eyes drag from your mouth to your eyes. A low electric pulse strums through your veins. Your finger scramble for purchase on his arm guards and squeeze in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself. It could be real, it could be a dream, or it could be the side-effects of the drug.

“Is this real?” You mumble. “Because it seems like you—like you might kiss me.”

Batman’s gravelly voice responds, “I’d like to.”

You press your teeth into your lower lip. Bruce kissed you, but a kiss isn’t always pretense to a relationship. A kiss isn’t a promise to monogamy. Besides, you have your suspicions that Bruce is regretting the kiss anyway. There’s no harm in kissing Batman. You’re not betraying anyone. You touch his stubbled jaw with your fingertips and instinct pulls your eyes closed.

“Yes, you may.”

He sighs unevenly and then, his mouth is pressed into yours with surprising, desperate intensity. You clutch his face, opening your mouth beneath his, and moan softly at the first lick of his tongue against the roof of your mouth. Batman kisses you like he’ll die if he stops, like this kiss is all that stands between Gotham’s salvation, like he’s been waiting to kiss you for years. His tongue drinks in every soft, keening sound that he pulls from your throat. Your spine bumps into the window and you loop your arms around his neck. There is a feeling of complete, utter safety that envelopes you. And you melt into him.

His hands briefly move away from your face, but when they return—they are cool and calloused and firm. He cups your jaw, tilting your head back for him, and pressing the hard length of his body into yours.

He rasps, “I want to touch you.” His lips find the hollow spot of skin below your ear, “can I?” He suckles your skin, kissing his way down the side of your neck, explicitly careful of the bruises that dip below your collarbone.

“Yes, yes please.” Who knew Batboy could turn you into someone who whines?

His fingers hook around your sleep shorts and tug and—you hear and feel the fabric rip. You shiver in his arms, unafraid, and filled with nervous trepidation. Batman covers your mouth with his. You wish you could touch more skin beyond the scrape of jawline and his long, calloused fingers. His knuckles brush against the front of your clit and Batman hisses through his teeth.

Your hips eagerly shift, your blood ignited with desire, your head swimming with dizzying affection. He repeats in light, teasing strokes, back and forth, along your clit. Your finger slide for desperate purchase along the sleek, dark material of his armor. His other hand enfolds your wrists before pinning them together and lifting them over your head. Your knuckles rap lightly against the cool window.

“Ohhh,” You smile with understanding. His mouth latches onto your jaw and a soft hiss is pulled from your lips when his stubble scratches your sensitive skin. “You can touch, but I can’t?”

“Something like that.” He hums. His fingertip swirls over your swollen clit and it earns him another pitched moan from the back of your throat. His index finger glides between your folds and thank God he’s kissing you—thank God—because the sharp, ragged cry that you release would’ve woken the whole tower. He swallows your moans, relishing them. He grunts with pleasure when his finger plunges into you, covered in your arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He pumps his finger in and out of you, the sound of it slick and debauched, stoking the fire from deep within your abdomen.

“Be good and keep your hands up there.” He releases your wrists.

Out of sheer curiosity about what he’ll do next—you decide to listen. He kisses you senseless, kisses you breathless, and you’re certain it must be a distraction technique because there’s another ripping fabric sound from below your waist. Farewell, sleep shorts. You don’t mourn their loss for long because Batman plunges another finger into your wet, aching cunt. His thumb presses onto your clit and there’s something…clumsy…about the way he touches you. Unpracticed. Oddly, it’s a turn on. Batboy might wear a fancy belt, but it doesn’t look like he’s got many notches on it.

“Like that.” You breathe, rocking your hips in time with his fingers, “yes, yes, yes—" His thumb presses firmer, the concentric motion growing frantic, and your body tenses. You forget his instruction to keep your hands to yourself. You grab his face, hold him close, your lips smear messily along his cleft chin and pouty lips. You release a strangled moan when his fingers curl inside you.

“Stay quiet.” He warns with some difficulty. His eyes burn into your warm face. As if you’ve forgotten that you’re in Bruce Wayne’s study getting finger fucked by Batman. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

You choke out, “y-yeah, I k-know.” You squeeze your eyes shut, head lolling backward, his mouth on your throat. The familiar tightening and tensing of your lower abdomen heralds the final peak of your desire.

“I’m gonna—” Your voice pitches higher, “cum. I’m gonna cum.”

Batman gives a sweet little drawl of, “please,” at the hollow of your throat.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You shatter around his fingers, gush over his knuckles, your fingertips like claws on his biceps. Your mouth hinges open in a silent cry. Your thighs clamp around his wrist. He hasn’t stopped touching you. His thumb continues to stroke your over-sensitive clit. You clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds he’s plucking from you like a trained violinist. Your body spasms, twitching, the come down of your orgasm only promising another quick release if Batman keeps toying with you.

“I want to feel you,” says Batman into the shell of your ear, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Fucking hell.” You blink, dazed, and swallow roughly. “Right now?”

He doesn’t break eye-contact with you. “Yes.”

“O-okay.” You nod and are surprised your brain and vocal box can string together a single sentence. Batman turns you to face the window.  Gotham twinkles and shines, gray and bright, as rain travels like independent rivers the windowpane. You flatten your palms against the glass and flinch in surprise at the first touch of his cock near your sensitive folds. He slides his cock back and forth between your folds, not entering you, just slickening his cock with your earlier release. Your eyes roll backward into your skull. Your heart thunders loudly in your chest. Just through the sense of touch alone, you can surmise the girth and length of him. You can already imagine how he might fill you.

You arch on your tiptoes, rocking your hips into his, and whine lowly. His fingers come to settle on your waist.

He says, “stay very still for me.”

“You should know by now that I’m not very good at following directions.” You tease with a lopsided smile.

The rumbling that comes from behind you sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. But, before you can turn back and see if Batman is smiling—the tip of his cock thrusts into your cunt. The world goes white.

“Oh, fuck me!” You gasp brokenly. Batman inches himself deeper, and deeper, holding your hips firm between his strong, calloused hands. He stretches you wonderfully, fills you, and your walls squeeze around him in an instinctive, desperate attempt to garner more closeness. He bottoms out. Your stomach muscles clench. Your frantic breath fogs the glass. The seconds tick by in agonizing slowness. Your body quakes. Your fingers curl with a quiet squeak on the glass. He said stay still but didn’t give a time limit. You wrestle against the instinct to start grinding your hips, desperate for friction, desperate to satisfy the craving that’s burning inside of you.  

You look over your shoulder and Batman’s jaw is dropped open in pure, lustful awe.

You say, “please.”

His striking, blue eyes lift from your joined bodies and his upper lip glistens with sweat. He clears his throat.

“You feel…” He grunts and bows his head, “will you touch yourself for me?”

You nod. Your hand tucks between your legs and finds your swollen, slick clit. Your fingertips brush against the hard, impressive length of him buried deep inside you. Batman groans through clenched teeth. With every stroke of your fingers, your inner walls squeeze his immobile cock, and you try—you really, really do—to not move your hips and start thrusting.

You manage it for like thirty seconds. It’s not even intentional. You’re rubbing your clit, panting with soft little ‘ah ah ah’s. Next thing you know, you’re dragging your hips away, and letting out a deep, unrestrained moan at the feeling of his cock sliding along your walls.

Batman suddenly crowds you, pushing you up against the window, and your breasts squish into the cold glass. Your nipples pebble beneath your thin, old t-shirt.

“I—” You begin to explain yourself, or apologize, but the words rapidly dissolve on your tongue as Batman thrusts into you. You place your both palms on the glass to steady yourself again. At this angle, the head of his cock keeps hitting a deep, toe-curling spot inside you. A collection of stars dance and twirl in front of your vision like fairy dust.

You’ve forgotten the earlier instructions to stay quiet. Your moans punctuate each thrust and Batman doesn’t try to muffle you. At this rate—you’ll take the awkwardness of Bruce walking in if it means Batman doesn’t stop.

Through heavily lidded eyes, you watch down at Gotham as Batman – the masked vigilante, Vengeance, your partner – fucks you like it’s his last night on earth. He grunts from deep within his chest. Your walls squeeze. Your thighs shake. The side of your face presses into the glass, too tired to hold your head upright, and your cheek and flecks of saliva smudges the pristine surface. Everything pulses with white-hot heat and frenzied intensity.

You blindly reach behind you and grab hold Batman’s wrist. His hand twists beneath yours, and for a wild, panicked second, you’re worried you’ve crossed a line, you think he’s going to pull away, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t. He traps your hand under his and clutches your fingers, twining them together like a Celtic knot, squeezing the delicate bones in tandem with his eager thrusts.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You announce emphatically. Every atom, every nerve, every muscle, is wound up tight inside you like a spring-loaded weapon. Your inner legs are slick with arousal and sweat pools at the dip of your spine. The windowpane is blotched with evidence of your clawing fingertips and haggard breath. All the tension inside of you snaps. You come undone. Your walls grip around his cock. He says your name with feverous reverence, with glimmering absolution, with greedy satisfaction.

Praise drips like rainwater from his mouth, “you’re so good for me.”

In the haze beneath the din of your blissed-out cry, Batman quietly says, “it’s you - you’re - I—“ and whatever else he would’ve said is swiftly pulled into the undercurrent of his bitten-off moan. He buries himself to the hilt, pressing you flat against the window, and shudders as his cock swells and pulses inside you. His arms encircle your waist, your spine rests snug—if uncomfortable—into the hard planes of his armor.

You droop, boneless and sweating, and listen to the rapid, deep, and booming beat of your heart. Batman’s haggard breath fills your eardrums alongside the pouring rain. Your eyes gently open. You are greeted by dark, warm mahogany and weathered book spines, and a woven, expensive rug. Your laptop purrs on the desk behind you.

The room looks the same. Yet, your world has changed. Batman doesn’t move. In the muddled, rain-streaked reflection of your visages, you see Batman tilt forward and rest his forehead in the middle of your back between your shoulder blades. His warm breath slips through the fibers of your t-shirt and your skin prickles with goosebumps.

You hope he doesn’t let go (you’re gonna collapse onto the floor if he does). Your eyes slip closed again, because—what’s the point in keeping them open? You could sleep here for a few minutes. Then you’ll crawl your way to the guest room later after Batboy leaves. You loosen your grip on his fingers and sigh languidly.

If your eyes had been open, you would’ve seen the longing that ensnares his expression.

*********

He wishes he could stay here forever in the warmth of you. He’s carried the memories of you like a candle in the dark. He never imagined, never thought, that he would experience this with you. You fit him so perfectly—it’s maddening. It’s an impossible dream. He catches his reflection in the glass. He can’t forget who he is. He can’t forget his family’s legacy. He’s Vengeance. Allowing himself closer to you would only result in heartbreak. And Bruce made a promise a long time ago to protect you from any pain. This can’t happen again.

He waits until his cock softens inside of you before pulling out. You mumble something completely intelligible. His lips quirk in fondness. You are normally so eloquent—you talk fast, waving your hands in dramatic displays, and piece together missing puzzle pieces at hundred miles per hour. A sense of pride smolders in his gut. He can make you speechless. He pours water onto the ember. This won’t happen again.

He adjusts himself and collects you easily in his arms, one arm beneath the bend of your knees, the other scoops around your back.

“I can walk.” You grumble, your sweaty head falling against his shoulder, “put me down.” He doesn’t bother listening. He walks silently through the dark halls of his home. Your breathing slows and your hand slides off your stomach, dangling to the side.

He crosses the threshold into your room and lays you carefully onto the disheveled bed sheets. His fingers trail across your jaw. He selfishly drinks in the sight of you in the muted, orange glow of the bedside lamp. You are achingly lovely, and clever, and stupidly determined. Your golden lion heart will be his ruin. Your eyelashes flutter in a dream. He hopes it’s a good, happy dream. He hopes you aren’t plagued by nightmares like he is.

He draws the covers up to your chin. The back of his knuckles caress your cheek in a lingering and lonely farewell.

*********

Someone knocking on your door is what wakes you. Not your phone alarm. Not the muted, cloud-struck sunlight bleeding through the big windows. You grumble and make a noise that sounds like “come in.”

You blink in confusion at Bruce standing in the doorway. You were expecting Alfred or Dory. His dark hair lays flat against his scalp and little droplets drip from his earlobes onto his gray t-shirt. Fondly, he reminds you of a drowned rat. You smile.

“Hi.”

Bruce takes that as an invitation to walk in. Your shirt reaches an inch or so above your knee, but when sitting, it’s basically useless to cover below your waist. You adjust the bedsheets to ensure he can’t see your nakedness. You have no clue what Batman did with your shorts and underwear. Did he keep them? It’s not outside the realm of possibility, you think, for a guy who dresses up like a bat to fight crime.

The mattress sinks beneath his weight, “hi.”

He fidgets with a bulky wash towel in his hands. He meets your gaze, then avoids it, strangely skittish for the man who shoved his tongue in your mouth in a public hospital room. You open your mouth to comment on it—but he speaks before you can.

“Can I see your shoulder?” says Bruce. Your mouth snaps shut with a comical clack of your teeth. How did he know about that? Then you remember Dory. On your first night, she—due to doctor instruction—waited outside the bathroom when you showered. Her thin, wrinkled mouth pursed when she saw your bruises, but she didn’t say anything. She must’ve reported back to Bruce. You couldn’t be upset with her, though. You liked her too much.

You grin, your tone playful, “what? You want me to take my top off?”

Bruce smirks and looks away from you, sighing indulgently. Your heart melts.

You poke his thigh, “close your eyes.” You immediately register the muscled tenseness of his leg but brush it off. He’s a billionaire hermit who doesn’t skip leg day. Who would’ve guessed.  

He starts, “you don’t have to—”

“Close ‘em.”

He bites his lower lip, briefly, before shutting his eyes. You wince when you pull your old shirt over your head, but you manage without difficulty. You take the sheets pooled around your waist and tuck them under your armpits. In full light, in full view, the bruises follow the curve of your shoulder and into your collarbone. You take a minute to wonder if Falcone’s prototype drug affects blood thinness. You file the thought away for when you’ve got your results in hand.

“Okay.”

Bruce’s breath snags in his mouth. His nostrils flare. Under his scrutiny, his desperate gaze, your skin throbs dully with pain. You swallow roughly as Bruce’s fingers come close to your skin, but don’t touch you. He traces the mottled landscape with his eyes. His sooty eyelashes flutter, blinking away some errant thought, and he peers at you through his wet hair.

“How’s it feel?” He asks.

You say, “I only notice it only if I’m moving that arm.”

“You should be icing it.”

You chuckle. “You sound like Alfred.”

Bruce lifts the washcloth from his lap, “lucky for you, I brought some ice with me.” His hand hovers over the worst bruise, the part of your body that took the full, animalistic force of the door. He looks at you in silent askance. You don’t even need to think about it. You trust him. You bite your lower lip and nod.

He gently, oh-so-delicately, applies the cold compress to your injury and you inhale sharply. His gaze snaps away from your shoulder to your face, his brow furrowed.

“It’s cold.” You press your lips together.

He smiles faintly, ducking his head, and hiding the full sight of his smile from you.

“That’s the point, Silver.” He cradles your elbow in his other hand and methodically places the cold compress on the injury for a few minutes before moving to another section of your skin. His eyes remain focused on his task, only looking at you when you make a sound of discomfort. A prickle of goosebumps flush across your skin.

When the compress comes to your collarbone above your breasts, you lift your eyes to the ceiling, and the cold sensation radiates outward. You shouldn’t feel warm while Bruce is tending to your injuries. Yet, your body – treacherous as it is – hums with warmth and slow, deep throbs of desire.

Even after your…adventure…with Batman last night. It can’t erase how you feel about Bruce. He’s etched into you like the lines on your palms. Your heart has his fingerprints all over of it.  

You try to focus on other thoughts, like Falcone, or the Arkham project, but holding onto your thoughts is impossible. It’s like holding tendrils of condensation that puff in front of your face in cold mornings. It all circles back to him. His gentle hands. The smell of his shampoo. The water dripping into his eyes. The length of his eyelashes. The bridge of his nose. His steady inhale-exhale.

Bruce asks quietly, “will you tell me how it happened?”

Your brow wrinkles, and something akin to grief crawls into your throat, “it’s not a happy story, Bruce.”

His hand, chilly and familiar, caresses your throat. His thumb grazes across your pulse. “I know.”

You close your eyes. “Okay…” you take a deep breath, “it all started when I noticed a pattern of girls from the same age group going missing…”

Bruce listens to all of it. Your dead-ends at other bars and clubs. The connections you made about the girl’s being runaways or estranged from their families. The terrifying close calls with drug dealers, who either wanted to rob you or kill you, or the other criminals—who usually wanted to do worse. The little help you got from Gordon. Your eventual success in getting Falcone’s attention. The shipyard. The drugs. The hallucinations you saw, what you felt, all the terror and panic, and the worry.  

You omit the fact that Batman was there. And has been there since the beginning of your days as a freelance, reckless journalist.

You hate lying to Bruce, but the story is more believable if you say Gordon was following you and just called in the EMTs. That’s easier to explain that then ‘yeah, I work with Batman, and he installed a custom app in my phone to protect me.’

At the end of the story, he says,  “the drugs triggered what happened when we were kids.” And his words floor you. You haven’t thought about that in years. A lightbulb switches on inside your mind, bright and humming, and you gasp with delight and surprise. It wasn’t just a random hallucination. It was triggered by memory, by fear.

“Bruce! You’re a genius!” You grab your tossed aside shirt and awkwardly pull it over your head. If Bruce unintentionally sees a bit of skin, well, it won’t kill him.  

“I gotta call Gordon.” You grab Bruce’s face between your hands and plant a kiss square on his forehead. “Thank you!”

You clamber off the bed, feet nearly slipping on the hardwood, as you snatch your phone from its charging spot near the door.

Bruce says your name, freezing you momentarily.

“I thought…” He swallows, “I thought it was over with Falcone.”

You shrug, then wince. “It’s not over for me until he’s behind bars.”

He slides from the bed, approaching you, and he pins you with his gaze. “But you’re not investigating him anymore, right?”

“I can’t leave this loose end untied.” You clutch your phone tightly between your hands. “I don’t…I don’t expect you…to understand. It’s…”

Hell, you hardly understand it yourself.

“It burns me up inside, Bruce.” You say fervently, “I can’t leave a job unfinished. Yes, the girls are safe. Yes, I’m safe. But Falcone and his associates remain at large. The drugs’ location and his supplier are unknown. There’s more to this story. I can feel it.”

You pause, and consider another angle, “I promise I’ll still have time for the Arkham article.”

He holds the side of your face, his expression pained, “you think that’s what I’m worried about?”

“I don’t…” You trail off, searching his eyes, and your mouth goes dry. When did Bruce start looking at you like you were the first sight of land after days lost at sea?

“Let Gordon and the PD handle Falcone.” He whispers.

“But this is important!” You argue, clutching the front of Bruce’s soft shirt, “Gordon needs to know what the drug actually triggered.”

“Fine.” His gaze hardens but raw concern is etched across his face, “you’re going to get hurt if you keep chasing Falcone.”

You smile to yourself. “Another friend of mine said the same thing.”

“I meant what I said in the hospital, Silver.” His thumb crests over the delicate space below your eye. “I care about you. I – I don’t know what I’d do if…if….”

Your heart squeezes like a vice.

“If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, then you should know the feeling is mutual.” Your lip quivers. “But lucky for me, you’re a vitamin D deficient shut-in who is best friends with a sixty-year-old man.”

“Don’t let Alfred hear you say that.”

You laugh softly and it breaks some of the tension in Bruce’s shoulders.

“I know it looks easy from the outside. I could get a different job. I could work the Arkham article for ten years and drain the Wayne bank account dry.” You smirk, then control your expression into one of seriousness. If Bruce wants any semblance of a relationship with you, then he needs to know this. This is your non-negotiable standpoint.

You say slowly, “but…for me…this is it. This is who I am.”

“A journalist with a death wish?” There is the barest hint of dry humor in his voice.

“A journalist who believes Gotham can change. All the crime and corruption doesn’t have to be the status quo.”

Bruce sighs softly and you know you have him. He can’t argue against your valiant, golden hope for a better Gotham. A safer Gotham. You believe in this truth and nothing, not even the man who holds your heart, can shake you from that conviction.

You lean forward and nuzzle your nose along his. “Be thankful I’m not dressing up and fighting crime.”

“There’s still time.” He murmurs good-naturedly.

You hum in agreement. “Hm. Maybe next year.”

Your lips ghost over his, “I think this is the part where we kiss and make up,” you mutter.

“Is it?” He guides your face to tilt to the side.

“Mhm.”

Bruce kisses you slowly. There is a lazy Sunday afternoon, bathed in golden light, hidden somewhere inside the kiss he gives you. You’re not sure if that afternoon is the near future or the very distant. But you want to discover it. You want to hold it tenderly in your hands, the same way you are holding Bruce’s jaw, and nurture it until it blossoms into a thousand, bright orange butterflies that carry hope with each flutter of their wings.

When you pull your mouth away from his, he asks a simple, modest request, “stay.”

And you are more than persuaded to indulge him.

(Part two)

*************************

((tag list:  @imreadingrespectfully // @jotarosasscheek // @buzzfrill // @man-johnnie // @reesespieces10123 // @a-wake-and-unafraid ))

[offender42085]

Post 1258

The victim's father expressed compassion for the young defendant, who stood to the side of the courtroom in prison garb, with his hands cuffed.

Alan Faynzilberg, New Jersey inmate 821030E, born 1997, incarceration intake December 2017 at age 20, released November 2023

Vehicular Homicide -- Reckless Driving, Manufacture/Distribution/Dispense of Controlled Substance

In October 2017, a Belleville New Jersey man was sentenced to eight years in prison for a drunken head-on collision that took the life of a young father of two in May 2016.

During a somber afternoon hearing in Superior Court in Newark, the judge said he had seen other victims' family members express forgiveness toward their loved one's killer. But none, he added, had ever done what Pietro Davila did following the death of his son, 33-year-old Luis Davila.

"I've never had a victim's family member come before me and request that he be put on the defendant's visitation list," said Superior Court Judge Ronald D. Wigler.

And while Wigler wished defendant Alan Faynzilberg, 20, success in eventually turning his life around, the judge was not as forgiving as Davila's family, and refused to reduce the 8-year sentence recommended by prosecutors in a deal that led to Faynzilberg's guilty plea earlier on June 26.

Faynzilberg was jailed for 10 months following the incident, then released, but has been back in custody since the prior week, when he turned himself in on what was supposed to be his original sentencing date.

Pietro Davila, 59, of Jersey City, was one of three people who made victim impact statements. But rather than condemning Faynzilberg, DaVila expressed compassion for the young defendant, who stood to the side of the courtroom in prison garb, with his hands cuffed.

"I feel content, because we are Christian," Davila said through an interpreter. Turning to Faynzilberg, he added, "This young man, Alan, on my behalf I forgive him."

The victim's sister, Giselle Davila, was equally compassionate, telling Faynzelberg, "I hope that when you complete your sentence, you change your life for the better."

Assistant Prosecutor Betty Rodriguez said during the hearing that Faynzilberg admitted using alcohol, marijuana and the tranquilizer Xanax prior to the crash. She told the judge that in that and prior arrests for drug-related offenses, Faynzilberg had repeatedly shown "a complete disregard for the law."

With his lawyer, William Fitzsimmons, at his side, Faynzilberg made an emotional plea for leniency.

"Let me express my deepest and most sincere apologies for May 27, 2016," Faynzilberg said, sobbing at that point and others during the hearing.

"I'm sure it was sincere," said Wigler, the presiding criminal judge in Essex County.

That said, Wigler told Faynzilberg that, under his plea deal, the prosecutor's office had already agreed to downgrade the vehicular homicide charge against him from first degree to second degree, sparing him several years in prison under sentencing guidelines.

Wigler added that Faynzilberg's prior record included two drug arrests, one in which he avoided a criminal conviction by being accepted into a pre-trial intervention program, or PTI, on April 15, 2016 -- just six week before the drug-fueled crash that killed Luis Davila.

"What's concerning is you don't learn from your past mistakes," Wigler told Faynzilberg. "And a family was destroyed."

A friend of the Faynzilberg, Alexandra Roth, made a statement on his behalf, assuring the court that he would have the loving support of his family to help him overcome his drug dependence and reintegrate him into society upon his release.

"The level of remorse that he felt was not of the kind, 'What's going to happen to me?' but truly of the magnitude of what happened," Roth said.

4y

[mamirhodessxox]

Too Sweet (Part 3)

Stalker Professor!Cody x Ballerina Fem!Oc

Desc- Zoe is a 23 year old enrolled into University who is well known across campus fr participating in Ballet & even auditioning for one of the most important roles of the year, but she seems to be quite infatuated with her professor without realizing he is 100x more infatuated and obsessed with her, the two grow a bond and soon realize they would do whatever it takes just to be happily together forever.

Contents- Fluff, Angst, Smut in some chapters, Use of Alcohol & Marijuana, Arguments, Soft/hard Dom x Brat like pairing, Mutual Stalking, Murder, Violence, Gore Details, Kidnapping, inspired of off the show ‘You’ & ‘Black Swan’

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @cococodysleevlesshoodie

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

The night the football game quite literally caught on fire everyone had been in a state of shock. A week surpassed and Zoe still refused to speak with Cody once she saw him with another woman, he’d try to speak to her and make some sort of interaction in class but she didn’t budge one bit.

It was 5 nights before her swan lake performance & Zoe spent most of her nights at the dance studio practicing her moves even during after hours. The lights were dim, she assumed she was alone but once she had heard a door shut loudly she stopped her every move & turned her head in the direction she heard the slam “Hello?” Zoe called out and stood still but heard nothing, “Keith is that you?” She tried peaking through as carefully as she could before walking closer towards the sound

“Keith this isn’t funny you’re being an asshole.” Zoe frowned before switching on the lights and looking down the hall and seeing absolutely nothing, the entire studio felt eerie at that moment, just as she sighed and was moving back towards the room she originally sat in until she felt a tap behind her “I don’t like being ignored Zoe.” Cody announced while watching as Zoe turned to face him and glared “You’re not allowed here.” He quirked up an eyebrow “Well I don’t seem to give a singular fuck now do I?” She frowned at his words and turned back into the practice room and grabbed her things “Is this what you do? When a girl says she doesn’t want to have sex you bring another woman with you somewhere you knew I’d be and shove it in my face?” She questioned but Cody had a confused expression but soon sighed approaching her even closer “Is that what this is seriously about? Doll that was my co worker from that meeting before the game, she wanted to tag along that’s it. Nothing more.”

She stood still for a moment & lowered her head “Oh..” silence filled the room while Cody lowered himself and sat on the floor next to her “I’m sorry I made you worry off your pretty head like that love’ it won’t happen again” she looked at him and felt a small smile grow across her cheeks & kissed him before pulling away and messing with her hair “You’d look good with blonde hair” Cody chuckled while staring at her admiring all of the features that were scattered on her beautiful face “Yea? Well you never know what happens when I’m bored.”

She smiled and sat on his lap while they both sat in the middle of the dance studio in silence before he tangled his fingers within her hair and ghosted his lips against her neck and jawline while his hands ran up and down her back as his lips mumbled against her neck “You’re so stunning Zoe” she smiled before pressing a soft kiss against his head before slightly gripping at his hair before she pulled away from him and got up leaving him confused “Everything okay doll?” She smiled and grabbed her bag before Cody stood up & started following her around like a lost dog, “Sweetheart what’s the matter?” Zoe smiled once more before turning around to look at him once they made it out of the studio “If you do as much as look at another woman I’ll fucking kill her.” He stood in shock for a solid minute before smiling a little bit & grabbing her face kissing her roughly but she had shoved him off & glared “You don’t get to touch me, I’m still upset with you.” Cody frowned and grabbed at her hands but she retaliated and snatched them away from him “Get that woman to back off of you and then we’ll talk. It’s that easy.” She eyed him up and down before walking off.

Meanwhile Cody stood there after realizing it was as if Zoe had put some sort of bewitching spell upon him as he was completely willing to do anything she wanted just for a grasp of her attention, he liked her possessiveness & her attitude. But it’s something he would definitely get clowned on if one of his friends saw.

“This girl is your student?” His friend questioned as they sat in a bar late at night, Cody held his head in the palm of his hands sighing “She’s 23, really pretty, classy, she does fucking ballet” his friend snickered at his situation & pat Cody’s back “I don’t know what to do Seth. She’s like a fucking siren man” Seth furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back in his stool “Did you fuck her?” Cody raised his head & looked at his friend “She’s cockblocking me right now. She’s pissed so she’s giving me blue balls.” Seth laughed out at his best friend’s words “I went to the college football game with my female co worker a night after I had a ‘moment’ with Zoe & I guess she saw and was pretty mad.” Seth sighed before running his hand through his own hair “I guess you gotta figure it out then huh?”

The next day Zoe sat in the practice room with Nina & ignored her presence as she continued stretching “Your fucking him aren’t you?” Zoe lifted her head up and glared at Nina “What are you even talking about?” The red head smirked and shrugged her shoulders “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. Mr Rhodes. It’s so obvious you’re screwing him, I see the way you glare anytime he interacts with other girls in our lesson. It’s pathetic honestly.” She glared even more before crossing her arms “I’m not sleeping with our profe-“ “not yet at least.” Zoe furrowed her expression and continued ignoring her. “I’m not judging you, I get it. He’s hot, it’s the hair isn’t it? Perhaps his voice? Or maybe just the fact he gives you any kind of attention”

“SHUT UP!” Zoe shouted out before staring down Nina and slamming down her performance shoes “You’re just mad because you didn’t get the role as swan queen so now your patronizing and bullying me over it because your not that fucking talented like you think you are, but your a grown fucking woman so get the fuck OVER IT!” she spat out before standing up & getting in Nina’s face “Let me guess you had to fuck our director for that role too?” Nina taunted before Zoe finally snapped and grabbed her by the throat causing the two to fight around the entire room, Thank god there weren’t any cameras, Zoe was slammed on the wall “You’re such a fucking skank!” Nina shouted before Zoe kicked her off directly in the stomach, Nina grabbed her arms and slammed the both of them both against the mirror covered wall causing Zoe to scream out once the glass made contact with her skin “SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!” She screamed before grabbing the shards of glass and hovering over the weakened and bloodied girl who was fighting back to get her to stop but ultimately Zoe wouldn’t budge and slit her throat with the sharp glass piece & breathed out as blood dripped from her arms & cheek, she laid next to the lifeless body as she took a moment to process what happened before crawling towards her bag & grabbing her phone & calling Cody, “Hello?” She breathed out in relief once he picked up “I-I need help at the studio..It’s bad.. bring a first aid kit if you can please..”

Cody furrowed his eyebrows as he held the phone against his ear “Are you oka-“ she hung up on him and sat as she watched the blood roll out from Nina’s throat, For some reason she didn’t feel scared or guilty, she felt excited, adrenaline ran through her veins and that moment, blood started drying against her skin, she had no idea what to so until she heard a sigh from behind her followed with a “Fuck.” She turned around and saw Cody. She stood up and rushed over to him “She kept f-fucking taunting me about you & she wouldn’t s-stop so we got in a fight and she slammed us both in the mirror & I didn’t know what to do so I panicked and- you can clearly see how that went..” he nodded before looking down at Zoe before running a hand down her face despite the blood “Let’s clean the room up and get rid of her & figure out what to do then alright?” She nodded at his words before he grabbed gloves from the first aid kit he had brought and carried Nina carefully to his car & immediately stuffed her in the trunk & rushing back inside of the studio & found the utilities closet & grabbed cleaning products & began to clean up the bloody mess while Zoe got rid of any glass shards and quickly came up with an excuse as to why the large mirror was broken incase anybody asked her tomorrow. Once they were done cleaning Cody approached Zoe & held her face in the palm of his hand

“I’m gonna drop you off at your dorm with the first aid & you’re gonna take a shower, wash your clothes & if you need to, stitch yourself up alright?” She nodded before pressing a soft kiss against his lips “Why aren’t you scared?” She muttered before running her lips down his neck “Because I have no room to be scared.” She tilted her head in a confused manner but brushed it off before they left the now clean studio with her belongings.

Cody dropped her off before he drove out of town and handled the body & cleaned the back of his car before driving back into town and checking up on Zoe until she texted him instructions to not come over due to her friends being at the dorm after she took her shower.

“I’m still in shock after that fire incident, wasn’t a body found that night too?” Alice spoke as everyone sat in the room while Zoe laid in her bed as if nothing happened earlier “man I don’t know. This university is filled with a bunch of crazy ass bitches, remember my ex Nina?” Keith blurted out while taking a hit off of his freshly rolled blunt Mae laughed out as she filed her nails “Of course we do, isn’t Nina in your psychology class Zo?” The brunette turned her head and thought for a moment “Yeah she’s in my ballet group too, Keith can confirm he volunteers help every Friday” Zoe mumbled before sitting up from her bed “She’s off the chain nuts, she sprained my ankle when I got the swan queen role & not her” Alice scoffed and continued braiding her own hair “She’s just mad that she’s talentless, You’ve been in the ballet game for almost your entire life, she’s been in it since fucking senior year of high school.” Zoe’s phone pinged & she quickly checked it only to see Cody had texted her to come outside, “I’ll be right back I think I dropped something outside.”

Cody sat in his car in the parking lot as he watched her scamper towards him & got in the car “Are you feeling alright doll? Any sort of panic?” She shook her head with a smile dancing on her face “It’s as if it never happened.” He chuckled and leaned across the arm rest so he could kiss her more easily “Why don’t you spend the night with me tonight? It’s sunday, you having nothing else going on today” she smiled at the offer & nodded before her face dropped a little bit “Are we gonna get in trouble?” He shrugged as he started driving the car “Not unless you say something or act suspicious.” Zoe raised a brow while turning her head towards him “How are you not internally freaking out? You disposed a goddamn body that I murdered.” He grinned and looked at her for a split second “And a body that I handled sweetheart. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“What do you mean?” He stopped at a red light and smiled at her before holding onto her hand “You didn’t know?” She tilted her head “I set the guy you were making out with at the game on fire.” Zoe’s heart dropped and sat still for a moment as he said it like it meant absolutely nothing, “Are we murderers?” Cody laughed lightly as he gripped the steering wheel “Not if people find or sweetheart. As long as nobody knows we’re innocent.” He wasn’t joking. Zoe didn’t fee guilty, quite honestly she hoped that Nina’s final day would hit. “So other than today, how has practice been for you?” She heard Cody’s voice ring through her ears and noticed they were at another stop light, her thighs tightened against each other the more he spoke. “Zoe?” Her head snapped towards him as she smiled & pushed her hair away “Uhm- it’s good, I’m really focused on this performance..I’ve grown quite passionate honestly.” He hummed as he pulled into his driveway and looked at her

“You know I would do anything for you right?” Zoe smiled at his words when they both stepped out of the car “like kill someone for me?” He grinned and pressed her against the front day “Already did that but I’ll do it again if you ask” he teased before pressing his lips against hers & slipped his tongue past her lips while pressing her closer and closer against his body, she held the side of his face before ripping herself away from his body once she had realized something.

He wasn’t joking about killing for her and neither was she. They were both sick in the fucking head that they are convinced they’re innocent no matter what because to them. It’s normal. That’s what love is right?

Having the confidence to murder someone else for the love of another?

Manirhodessxox’s Masterlist

[kindersurprisebacterium]

Bring Your Own Bunny (Keigo Takami / Reader)

Explicit Content MDNI

CW: Rough oral sex, alcohol and marijuana use, slight breeding kink, costume parties, wardrobe malfunction

W/C: 2.2k

A fire lit up in my throat, spreading to my chest, and wrapping around my ribs tightly. My body heaved as I coughed. I set the bong down on the coffee table and reached for my cup, half full of some mixed drink, the name slipping my mind. 

“Jesus Christ that kicked me,” I spoke through coughs. “I’m about to get fucked, aren’t I?” I laughed, setting my cup down on the table. A head of blonde hair caught my eye from the corner of the room. My eyes trailed down his body, noticing a rather familiar costume adorning his slim figure. He wore a skimpy bodysuit and bunny ears. 

“Hey, Blondie!” I called out. Golden eyes locked onto me. “Nice costume. Very original,” I laughed, gesturing to my own bodysuit. He smirked, moving toward the couch I was seated on. He sat down next to me, his arm resting on the back of the couch. 

“D’ya lose a bet or something?” I asked, feeling a haze of sorts wash over my limbs. 

“I did, actually. If I had a say in my costume I would’ve gone as pyramid head,” he clicked his tongue and leaned forward to grab the bong. 

“Somehow I think that would’ve ended up being even more slutty.” I mumbled as I opened my phone. “Would you be down to take a picture, since we’re matching and all,” I asked, holding up my phone. He nodded as he blew a large puff of smoke from his lips. “Rumi,” I called out, grabbing my friend's attention. I tossed her my phone and gestured to the blonde as I stood up. The man followed me to a spot in front of scattered decorations. I stood at his side, leaning into him and arching my back. I stayed still, chest pressed against him as I waited to hear a soft click.

“Got it,” Rumi said, handing my phone back to me. I scrolled through the pictures, smiling as I found the perfect shot. 

“Hey, send that to me.” He said, speaking close to my ear. 

“Here.” I handed him my phone. His thumbs quickly worked away, typing in his number. He handed the phone back to me. I looked over the screen at the text he’d entered. The contact name read “Keigo” with an emoticon heart. 

“And sent. Thanks, Keigo.” I smiled, waving at him as I walked back into the main house.

My skin was slick with sweat. My body warmed from the alcohol running through my blood. I swayed, my arms swirling around my body as I danced to the music booming through the room. The low bass lines drove my hips in circles, my feet stepped from side to side to keep my body balanced. The breathy vocals came in, the harsh guitar dimming as the verse commenced. I threw my head back, eyes closed as I basked in the sensation of vertigo that the weed had summoned. My fingers tingled slightly. A buzz from my hand drew my attention away from the music. The bright screen made my eyes squint, my face scrunched as I read the notification on my Lock Screen. 

“Wardrobe malfunction. Figured you could help. I’m in the upstairs bathroom.” Then my eyes flicked to the sender. It was Keigo. I felt my cheeks heat up, even more than they already were. Tucking my phone away into the top of my bodysuit, I stepped away from the swarm of swaying bodies and approached the staircase. Knowing this house too well, I quickly turned down the hallway and approached the bathroom at the end of the corridor. The door was shut, light shining through the crack at the bottom of the door. I knocked on the door. The doorknob twisted. Aureate eyes peered out at me from behind the door. Keigo signed, opening the door to let me in. He pushed the door closed as I stepped inside. The pounding music grew muffled from behind the door. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do.” His cheeks were a bright shade of crimson. 

“You’re fine. What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning back against the sink. My eyes were drawn to his hands, placed over his crotch. “Shit.”

“I said I was sorry!” He blurted out, “Look, I can’t walk around like this.” 

“Hang on, I know Rumi has some shit in here,” I crouched down in front of the sink and pulled the cupboard open. I was met with a mess of cosmetics and hair products. “Can you like…tuck or something?” I asked, trying to not look behind me. The squeak of spandex filled my ears as he fiddled with the bodysuit.

“God this is uncomfortable,” he whined. Digging through the mess of products, I found a pack of double-sided fashion tape. 

“Got it!” I exclaimed, turning around to face Keigo. His hands were stuffed inside his bodysuit, adjusting his cock. A fluttering feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach as I watched him quickly remove his hands. I squeezed my thighs together as I broke open the packaging for the tape. 

“Hey, I can get it from here. It’s okay,” he spoke, reaching out to grab the tape from my hands. I pulled my hands back, staring up at him through my lashes. 

“I…uh,” I started, wetness pooling between my legs. “Can I…” 

“Oh yeah, thank you. You really don’t have to-”

“No, I mean…can I suck you off?” I cut him off, dropping the tape.

“Oh uh…” He stood still, eyes flicking madly. His hands stretched over his head fingers fiddling with the zipper to his body suit. I gently hit his elbow as my other hand pushed the thin fabric covering his cock to the side. The head of his cock was flushed a dusty rose. A thin thread of precum drooped from the tip. I leaned in, running my tongue over the bottom of his shaft. I flicked the tip of my tongue over the head of his cock and brought my lips around the circumference. I took more of his cock into my mouth, tongue flattening against the bottom of his shaft. 

“Oh shit-“ he grunted, hands grasping at my hair. I lowered myself further onto his length. The familiar tight, strained feeling arose in my throat as short stubble began to prick the tip of my nose. I pulled back and started a steady rhythm, moving back and forth. His golden eyes stared down at me as I worked. Plump lips parted with soft breathy noises escaping them. Every shudder that crossed his sticky skin sent a pulse to my core. I slipped my fingers into my bodysuit and dragged my fingers up my core. Once my fingers were slicked up, I began circling them around my clit. 

“Fuck, you like this?” He moaned, “Lemme fuck your throat then, huh? Keep rubbing your clit if you want me to fuck your face,” his eyes were glued between my legs. My fingers kept circling around my clit, easing the knotted pressure that had been building in my stomach all night. His hands grabbed onto both sides of my head, nails digging into the skin behind my ears. His hips began pushing the head of his cock further into my mouth, thrusting in and out at a rough pace. Warmth flooded down my cheeks as thick, black tears began to run down my face, smearing my eyeliner and mascara. I circled my fingers faster around my clit. I choked out a moan around his cock. His thighs began to tremble, one hand grasping my jaw and holding my mouth open as he pushed even deeper into my throat. My hands pushed at his thighs as I began to gag around his length. He pulled back, groaning as he looked at my face. Strands of saliva hung from my chin. My previously pristine red lipstick now amounted to faint crimson smears over my cheeks. He stepped forward again. I opened my mouth, looking up at him through my damp eyelashes. 

“Fuck, no, no it’s your turn,” he spoke as he grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet. His hands slid down to my waist, spinning me around so I faced the sink. My eyes widened as I caught a glimpse of my disheveled face in the mirror. He gripped my thigh, pulling my leg so it straddled the corner of the sink. I pushed into my heel with the other one. His eyes met mine in the mirror, pupils flicking to the bunny ears pinned to the top of my head. 

“You do look cute as a bunny,” he smirked, grabbing onto one of my fabric ears. “But I want to know,” His fingers swiftly parted my lips and dipped inside my mouth. “Do you wanna get bred like a bunny?” He asked, fingertips pushing down on the back of my tongue. Drool began to run down my lips. I meekly nodded, sighing with relief when he withdrew his fingers. His other hand forced the fabric covering my core to the side. Wet fingers went straight to my core, swiping up and down my cunt before brushing against my clit. My hips jerked at the sudden stimulation. 

“Keigo!” I whimpered as he quickly began to circle his fingers around my clit. My toes curled, teeth clenched as I attempted to bite back moans. His palm smacked my cunt, drawing a startled moan from my lungs. Then just as suddenly, his fingers were back to drawing tight circles over my clit. My lips parted, eyes straining against my tendons as the pleasure began to pool in my stomach. A myriad of noises streamed from my saliva-coated lips. Pants and moans, incoherent babbles, and long, drawn-out whimpers. My heated cheek pressed against the sink. My fingers spread out, grasping at anything they could grab. A flood of static engulfed my body. Starting in my stomach, and slowly washing over every inch of my sweaty skin. My knee gave out, body tilted as I began to slide off the countertop, however, a firm grasp on my hip stopped me from sliding. My unfocused eyes looked in the mirror, watching as his eyes flicked over my fucked out body. 

“You think you can do one more?” He asked, fingers soothing over my tense muscles. I nodded silently, not bothering to lift my head from the sink. His hands quickly went to work, turning my body over so my lower back rested on the sink. He held on firmly to the backs of my thighs, gaze dropping as he lined his cock up with me. He slowly pushed forward, a soft moan slipping from his lips as he pushed more of his length inside me. My vision went blurry, eyes going unfocused as pleasure washed over me. My breath hitched as the tip of his cock tapped lightly on my cervix. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as his cock sunk in and out of me. He started off slowly, letting me adjust to his size. His eyes scrunched shut, lips parted as his breath grew labored. 

“I’m not gonna last long,” he huffed, eyes meeting mine. 

“Please just fuck me,” I whimpered. His hips stagnated. Suddenly, he gripped onto the front of my bodysuit and began roughly pulling it down. The seams began to pop as he forced the spandex down my chest. A waft of cold air sparked chills over my exposed skin. My nipples began to perk up, drawing his attention. He leaned forward, lips roughly locking onto one of my nipples. My body jolted against the countertop as his hips drew forward. His fast, rough thrusts sent my body careening toward bliss. My toes curled, my voice growing untamed as I unashamedly let my voice out. My fingers gripped his blonde locks, squeezing tightly as his teeth sunk down into my skin. His tongue soothed over the bite marks before moving to my other nipple. 

“Keigo, harder!” I cried out. He pulled back from my marred skin, sparking a new fervor into his thrusts. His hips snapped roughly against mine. The sound of wet slapping echoed around the cramped room. 

“Oh f-uck,” he moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I gripped hard onto the countertop. My ankles began to flex, tendons being pulled tight as a freezing wave of haze flooded my senses. My breath hitched, catching in my throat. My face contorted, jaw going slack in a silent scream. 

As my consciousness slowly reassembled itself, the feeling of clinging, sweaty heat stuck out in my mind. My eyes focused on the cluster of towels curled beside my body. The feeling of rough shag wiping at my spent cunt drew my focus. I watched as Keigo pressed a kiss to my inner thigh. 

“I ruined your costume, I’m so sorry.” He frowned as his fingers toyed with the tattered fabric. I looked down at the strips of torn spandex that adorned my bare chest. 

“Make it up to me?” I asked, sitting up. I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He hummed, lips moving back against mine. “Take me home.”