#[plot twist]

Bruce takes care of his work, but occasionally stops to, in fact, help Robin who is trying to do his English homework. The other members also help out, of course.

So, Hal arrives at the Watchtower, and Robin, seeing the man his dad mentor has been so grumpy about because of the last meeting they had (Hal doesn't understand that Batman is the best at his job and is the one giving directions for a reason, duh!), decides he will exact revenge.

He carries on a normal conversation with the man just as he did with everyone else, subtly leading the topic until Hal falls into the trap:

Hal: What about your mom? I can't imagine anyone putting up with the old bat.

He speaks with all mockery, but then his smile freezes when he sees the tremor in the little boy's shoulders.

Dick: *shuddering and holding back a little sob* my mummy died in front of me a few months ago.... I...

Hal is pale now, because the child actually sobs, and runs off to hide in the cape of Batman, who was now standing, ready to stitch up his child.

He's not the only one, Superman and the others are already there too, looking at him angrily because he made the little bean cry.

Hal is in a panic.

And if he sees how the boy smiles at him when no one is looking, sticking his tongue out at him while moving his lips to send him the message "Don't bother my dad", no one would ever believe him, not while the little boy is now clinging to Batman tightly as he slowly blinks away tears that not even the best actors could ever pull off.

Only Hal knows the devil behind that angel face.

Beomgyu and you have been together for six months—and there is still so much to discover about each others’ bodies. So when you suggest spending New Year’s Eve pretending to be the victim of a home invasion and him a dangerous intruder eager to defile you, Beomgyu immediately agrees. The problem is that the man between your legs does not sound like Beomgyu, does not touch you like Beomgyu, and does not fuck you like him either. You are in great trouble.

₊ ݁ genre: smut, yandere.

₊ ݁ word count: 10.6k

₊ ݁MDNI

₊ ݁ warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT — MDNI - dom!hueningkai x reader - yandere!hk - ghostface!hk - lightsub!bg - major character death (or not?...) - light mxm (v. end of the story and less than a line) - choking - overstimulation - sadism - cnc - unconventional!voyeurism! - blood - knife play - slapping - loser!kai - some lightsub!kai - kai is kinda gross at the end - fear play - no safeword - kai and bg are in a rock band! - nothing is what it seems.

₊ ݁ additional notes: there’s a part where mc bashes communicating clearly their sexual needs to their partner. DO NOT EVER DO THIS!!! ALWAYS communicate what you want and make sure to engage in sexual relationships not only with people who can consent and want you, but also make sure to tell them what you want!!! that’s hot!! i do not endorse engaging in cnc irl with no good boundaries or safewords. this is all fiction. alsooo it's is my first tagging sth in tumblr so if im missing a warning plz let me know. finally english is not my native language. lmk about any errors and plz be kind!

In all of your years dating, nobody has made you feel the way Beomgyu does. 

He unleashes in you an easygoingness and silliness that you deemed long forgotten. Ever since he walked you to your house after a night drinking with friends, you started sensing your barriers faltering. You used to walk a good distance away from people, always so adamant about your personal space; with Beomgyu, your fingers were gracing his as you walked. You used to nod and give advice to your friends, keeping your worries clumped inside your heart so as to not overwhelm them; with Beomgyu you talked about all that stress in your work and your relationships, finding the glint in his eyes safe and your mouth eager to talk and talk and talk. You used to maintain a calm and neutral expression no matter the situation; with Beomgyu you cackled until tears filled your eyes and you doubled over yourself while he clapped and laughed in unison, somehow being louder than you. And when the multiple attempts at goodbye that ended prolonging into silly talks (Did you get to see Soobin’s LOL shirt? Yes! Wasn’t it hideous? You literally have a matching one, Beomgyu.) became a shortening distance that led to your mouths watering at the prospect of kissing each other, you knew you were helpless. Ever since that kiss, you’ve lived a most perfect relationship. Well, almost perfect. You were terrible at sex, always so awkward and stiff whenever he touched you. Always pushing him away or blocking his entry every time he tried to explore a new crook and cranny of your body. You have sighed in his presence multiple times, claiming he should leave you. Instead he kissed your face until you relaxed, later asking for permission to continue. He usually proceeds to dissolve you into giggles as he leaves open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your navel, reassuring you that it did not have to go any further than kissing. And each time he says it with such detainment, with such patience in his doe brown eyes, that it softens any anxiety you had about yourself, his pleasure or yours. There is still so much to discover about your bodies and you can’t think of a better person than your boyfriend to spend all those magical moments with: all the times you actually have soft and mushy and sweet penetrative sex and all the times you are left craving something different.

Which is why you decide to trust him with something as messed up as this. 

The creeping anxiety you feel every time you have sex with Beomgyu came after a big realization that you are into cnc. It started as a simple thought when you were about to head to your bathroom to do your night routine and you heard a weird noise outside your door. Your hyperactive mind made you imagine the worst scenarios. An intruder. A serial killer. An intruder serial killer. Shakily, you opened the door, your thumb lingering over the call button to emergency services. All the lights were on, exactly as you liked them. Your bathroom was empty and with the door open, exactly as you had left it before entering your bedroom. Your living room, which was on the floor beneath, was as quiet and as solitary as you had originally last seen it. The only thing that was different was that your Corgi, Sputnik, was in front of your door, having dragged its bed from the window at the end of your hallway. You left out a huff. That dog was always giving you heart attacks. But as you went through your night routine you kept thinking about the possibility of a stranger jumping out of your shower or seizing you in the middle of the hallway, just before you entered the room. It wasn’t until you were lying down in your bed, glad that you had not been murdered, that you realized how much you liked the fantasy of being grabbed and taken by surprise. Say, when you were making some tea in the kitchen or maybe when you just finished brushing your teeth. It didn’t matter as long as you were touched with no serious warning… It took a lot of reading (filth) and soul searching to accept your desire from what it was. So when you shared your desire to Beomgyu the next time you tensed at his touch, you found nothing but the same patience in his doe brown eyes and the reassurance that there was nothing broken within you. 

After multiple conversations and thorough research, you both decided to make your fantasy come true on New Year’s Eve. Beomgyu would make noises in the living room. You would go downstairs, faking caution. Everything would be in disarray but you would pretend it was exactly as you left it. You would go to the kitchen to make some tea to ease your nerves and at the most minimal sound you would whip your head back, expecting to find a stranger only to find your living room as empty as before. He would wait until you finished your tea and the moment you set it on the sink he would wrap his arm around your neck and hold you against his body. You would try to scratch his hand away from you, your nails getting deeper into his flesh but he would still find a way to get his hand inside your pants and force you to welcome him. The idea was so thrilling that the week leading up to the scene all you needed was to close your eyes and you felt as if you were already there: his fingers as he entered you, finding you so warm and slippery, dripping all over his palm and moaning at the slightest touch; Beomgyu pulling out a plastic knife, looking down at you with that evil glint and that condescending tone reserved for his friends, Greedy little creature. Couldn’t wait to give me a cozy welcome, huh? You would try to get the knife out of his grasp only to be subdued. And as he stripped you and manhandled you, he would force you to take it, pliant girl in his arms, eager to be fucked out of her shame. 

But first you needed to prepare. And you are exhaustive. On New Year's Eve you clean the house from top to bottom, you hit up all your friends and family making a bullshit excuse about needing some detox from your phone and asking them to refrain from calling you once the clock hits twelve. Meanwhile you are texting Beomgyu the silliest updates such as I was deep cleaning the couch and I found your avocado socks. I think its been there for like longer weve been dating bro and Can you bring strawberries and mangoes and boiled chestnuts and melonas so we can stuff ourselves after fucking as well as Bro what if u end up throwing sth off from the balcony. To which he replied, baby why tf would we fuck on the balcony? 

Idk, u r kinda random

And u aren’t. dw. the balcony is not one of our main locations unless u wanna get fucked half leaning on the railing and half on the air

bro u are not strong enough to carry my handbag w/o breaking a sweat, my beautiful princess.

BROOOOOOOOOO

Once you park in front of the apartment complex, you smile at Beomgyu’s mini crashout: multiple memes and emojis and even some reels he dm’d you where he goes from admitting he’s a princess to categorically denying it. He even sent you a picture of his biceps as proof that a princess wouldn’t be this jacked. i’m the real work out zzzzang to which you reply with a picture of yourself and Sputnik, in the passenger seat. Dropping her off to your bestie.  Beomgyu hearts it and like your perfect boyfriend who is never able to let anything go, he texts one last time sputnik is the real princess. 

That last bit is very true, and in fact, the reason why you hesitate bringing her to Kai. He is Beomgyu’s best friend, bandmate (Beomgyu is the lead guitarist and Kai plays the drums), and the only one with the availability to take care of Sputnik that night. The last thing you want is Sputnik barking your ears off as you and Beomgyu fucked or worst, confuse Beomgyu for an assailant and ruin your sexy fun with a very non-sexy bite. Also, it helps that Kai is just ten minutes driving, which you had no idea until that very moment. Your neighbor right across from you is the only person close in at least 16 kilometers but surprisingly Kai’s even closer than the second person closest to you, your very annoying but lovely best friend, Yeonjun. As Kai buzzes you in, at least you have the reassurance that Sputnik loves him. You bumped into him a week ago in the park closest to your house while babysitting your nieces. Sputnik spent the whole time licking him and nuzzling against his leg while your nieces kept asking him to play prince, especially when they saw squirrels, pigeons and even butterflies approaching him. You have to agree with them that Kai seems like a prince right out of one of their fairytales—face, height, body, kindness, uncanny ability to pull animals. Even down to his character flaws. 

When Kai opens the door to his apartment, you are pushing that thought to the furthest corner of your mind.

“Thanks for agreeing to take care of Sputnik!” You take an egg tart out of your purse. When Kai sees you trying to juggle your dog and the dessert in your very busy hands, he gently tugs Sputnik out of your grasp and then the bag with your dog’s food and toys. “For you. Beomgyu told me you wouldn’t take any money so.”

He looks at it for a second before he puts Sputnik’s bag on the floor. He takes the egg tart with his two hands. God, what a cutie patootie. “It’s really no problem noona. Dogs are my favorite pets.” You let that sit for a second. That’s off. You could’ve sworn Beomgyu told you he prefers cats all the way. “I am just staying home so I have the time to do this.” 

You nod, finally getting a good look at him. He’s in a white hoodie and gray joggers, cozy and youthful, especially with his silky platinum hair. Just looking at his face you are brought back to that afternoon he spent with your nieces where he stayed up to an hour playing with them and an extra hour helping you calm them down when they couldn’t find their toys. He didn't have to do it then just like he doesn’t have to do this now. You don’t mean to be insistent but you feel bad his New Year’s Eve plans are taking care of your dog because you want to fulfill your dirtiest fantasy. “It’s no issue if you can’t take care of Sputnik. With the fireworks and all, it could be a real hassle. Also feel free to say no even later if plans also come up. I won’t be mad.” 

He chuckles. An airy and light sound. It instantly dazzles you. 

“It’s ok noona. My sisters are here so they’ll help me take care of Sputnik. They always wanted to take care of a Corgi.” He pets Sputnik between her ears, right on the spot that makes her move her back leg in absolute joy. That’s impressive. Not even you reach her favorite spot that quickly. Well, maybe dogs are his favorite pets after all. “I never mind helping you so if you need anything, just let me know.” 

“Same, Hyuka. If you need something, just let noona know.” You are about to turn around. You should probably turn around but your mouth has always reasoned faster than your brain. “It’s no good to keep things bottled up.” 

You try to ignore the awkwardness in your voice and repress a shudder from your attempts at being nicer and more communicative. Thankfully, you don’t fully notice his reaction because your alarm goes off, telling you it’s time to get ready. Shit. Shit. Shit. You are so behind. 

“Thank you noona.” 

“Of course!” 

You say goodbye to him and Sputnik, who barely even looks at you. She is fascinated with Kai, wagging her tail and trying to jump into his arms. That dog would die for you any given day but apparently not if prince Kai is around. 

Before you reach the elevator, you hear. “Noona?”

“Yes?”

“Happy New Year!” 

“Happy New Year to you too!” The elevator rings open and you wave one last time at Sputnik, who still is not looking at you, and at Kai, who is leaning against the threshold, calm eyes and a toothless grin. “See you next year!”

Once you are in the elevator, you groan and cringe at your leisure. What a lame joke to make, especially to your boyfriend’s best friend. He probably won’t remember it in five minutes but you are still trying to shake the bits of awkwardness off your body as you look in the rearview mirror. Somewhere between your furrowed eyebrows and your stiff cheeks there is a semblance of a semi functional human capable of acting in the parameters of normalcy. Sure. Yeah. Of course there is.  

You repeat that to yourself until the rest of the afternoon is gone in a wink. Next thing you know you are stepping out of the shower and into your bedroom to get ready. Despite assuming that Beomgyu would prefer you in a lacy bodycon, he admitted liking you better in shorts and a see through t-shirt way too small for your body. No bra. No panties. Last time he texted you, he gave in to your questioning and admitted he’s coming dressed in all black, though he refused to share what items exactly he’s wearing. His outfit is one of the things you have not meticulously planned as Beomgyu begged to surprise you. You agreed, fighting the urge to send him links to outfits that best matched your fantasy but unable to stop your restlessness. You trust him enough to know you like him with his hair pushed back, with his arms showing, with gloves but his fingers bare, so you could feel the calluses that make it easier to play guitar and now to play you, with you, in this lonely house, where nobody suspects what he will be putting you through. You are forced to take a sharp inhale. Oh Beomgyu… 

And then you hear him, pushing and shuffling the furniture in your living room. 

Your heart stammers against your ribcage as you finish up. You look at your phone and find a text from Beomgyu from an hour ago, saying did u meet lea and bahiyyih? aren’t they copies of each other? did u like their place? To which you frown, isn't that kai’s place? But when you hear the buzz of Beomgyu’s phone and a table being dragged, you are pushing down the increasing worriedness of having dropped off Sputnik not at Kai’s apartment, but at Kai’s sisters’ apartment, so you could get fucked. It’s ok. You’ll get them something nice in return. You need this so bad.

You open the door of your bedroom, sweaty palms against the cool of the doorknob. 

“Hello?”

Through the closed doors of your balcony, you hear a lonely cricket chirp instead.

You gulp the lump in your throat, the stairs creaking as you go down. The darkness in your living room makes you dizzy. You can make out the things Beomgyu has moved. He has dragged your couch and put it in front of your shelf and shifted your room divider from separating your entrance and your living room to blocking your view of an armchair and partially of your desk. You clutch to the rail, trying to contain your giggles as your eyes pace through the room and back to the room divider, trying to find what shape in the dark was your boyfriend. When you fail you are left with no other choice but to sigh. “Guess I must be hearing things.”

You think you hear him snort but it might as well be a noise from outside. 

You head to the kitchen, grab a mug, drop your favorite tea bag in it and pour some hot water you left boiling as you showered. All of this you do with a forced patience. Inside you are a ball of excitement, the mug almost slipping from your fingers multiple times. What is Beomgyu thinking as he hears the clack of your mug against the kitchen counter? What if he isn’t hiding behind the room divider but behind your desk? What if he’s gripping his own clothes so tight he is scratching himself, so tight his fingers are going numb, so tight he’s deluding his frantic brain he is touching you instead? 

You gulp the first sip of your tea. Then, something in the air feels different behind you; Beomgyu has gotten closer to you. The force with which your blood travels through your veins dizzies you. You clutch to the mug. 

“Who’s in there?”

 But you don’t turn around. You are not sure if that is the line you both wrote in the script but you feel crazy with expectation as you sense the heat coming from his body and see his shadow on the counter, engulfing yours. 

It’s time. 

You grab the mug to put it in the sink but right before you get to place it, Beomgyu’s biceps are against your throat, pressing you against his body. You barely register the clack the ceramic makes against the sink or your exhale which he cuts short. The pressure makes you  lightheaded and you bite your lip to repress a moan. Fuck yes. 

He holds you there for a couple seconds and as you stay in his arms you notice he seems to be wearing a sort of… black robe? 

Your heart jumps to your throat and stammers against his grip when you feel the coldness of a mask against your ear. No. No, he didn’t. 

“Is this your favorite horror movie?”

You tense at hearing the Ghostface voice. How committed is Beomgyu he even got a voice changer? Meanwhile, his hands are getting inside your panties and you feel this cold and perfectly smooth texture tracing your folds—it is nothing like his lukewarm and hard but real hands. 

So he must be wearing gloves. Latex gloves. 

It’s not what you wanted but it’s perfect. 

“Greedy little creature. Couldn’t wait to give me a cozy welcome, huh?” 

You nod enthusiastically until you remember the next line in the script. Who are you? What do you want from me? You thrash against him, shaking your head in the best no you can muster despite all that enthusiasm. “Who are you? What do you want from me?” 

“I am a guest.” His hand starts rubbing your clit, the full pad of his index pressing in fully only so a second later he is barely touching it, the pressure so light and fast you are digging your nails into his thighs. When you melt into his rhythm he is gone, tracing the shape of your navel instead. “Who’s been waiting patiently to be invited but had to do something about this when you just kept forgetting.” 

“I would never—ah— I would never invite a per… a per-pervert like you.” 

He chuckles, a little airy, a little high pitched. It is not a sound you are used to from Beomgyu. You fucking love this is unlocking a new side of himself. “Is that so?” 

And right in cue, he pulls out the knife. 

It is this plastic prop you got from a website that specializes in these types of fantasies. Beomgyu teased you mercilessly when he saw you had the page saved in your favorites. You wonder now, as he presses the dull edge against your thin shirt and his right hand slightly shakes, if he would dare to tease you now. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks.

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

“Then you better make me feel at home here, right, sweetheart?” 

You pull the knife out of his clutch, a flash of pain when the edge scratches your palm. You take advantage of the room he is giving you to “escape” his grasp but at the end of the day you are bypassing your door in favor of the couch. Beomgyu is pushing you down immediately, his hands pining your wrists with one gloved hand while the other lifts your shirt up to your chin, too eager to take it off. You move against him and his hold is loose enough you can shake him out if you want to. You look up at him and find the ghost face mask staring at you in mocking desperation (you still can’t believe he actually went it, he is fucking insane). And though your face may show you mortified, you dig your wristbones deeper against the couch. You will either die or kill him if he dares to stop. 

Instead Beomgyu is all over you. Flicking your nipples over and over again until you are wincing; pressing his palm against your throat enough so you are not freaking out but enough you are wheezing; grinding against you so ruthlessly your shorts are getting wet and his robe is bunching up around his hips. It feels so good to make the shape of his dick through all of those layers, so good you are digging your nails into his thighs again and stretching your head backwards, the shelf filled with photos as well as all his gifts coming and disappearing behind your fluttering eyelids. He is smiling so sweetly at you in all of those pictures. He spent hours choosing every plushy and book and CD. Who would believe he is capable of giving you so much pain? 

When his fingers enter your mouth, you smile, sucking on them eagerly and then letting him make you choke on them. Your own gagging gets you wetter and wetter and it makes you move more desperately against him. Fuck. You hope he will call you something soon. Bad girl. Slut. Whore. Cum bucket. You grab at his wrist, picturing down to the slight slur he will use to call you—you are so lost in all the pleasure from your body and your mind that you don’t notice you’ve been biting him enough to make a hole in one of the fingers. And in your jest, you don’t realize you are pulling the glove off with your teeth, eager to taste his skin. 

Your own savagery seems to turn him on because he gets rid of his other glove and he is squeezing your sides, almost as if he believed you were dough he could condense, twist and pull at his leisure. It is amazing. It feels amazing. But his hands are cold and something about how he touches you is so new you are squirming, especially when he touches your navel. You don’t pin what exactly it is until you notice that neither the tips of his right index, middle or pinky have a callus; his right thumb does. And when he touches your upper thigh, nearing your core, you notice his left thumb is suddenly callused too.

When he starts rubbing fast and light circles in your clit you are aching with the certainty that those are not your boyfriend’s hands. 

“Beomgyu?” As if you have punched him with that name, he flinches away. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my–” 

You don’t finish your own sentence before you are pulling down your shirt and pulling up your shorts, sprinting towards the door and grabbing your car keys. Of course your only neighbor has to be throwing a party tonight. No matter. You can get to Kai’s in seven minutes if you press the accelerator all the way to him. But just as you crack your door open, the stranger pushes it close. You push past him, past your coat rack and your room divider planning to grab the Cupid and Psyche statue on the coffee table to break the window open. You are just grasping it when you turn back, unsettled you don’t hear the stranger behind you. Instead you find your knocked out room divider on the floor and a shape on a chair that immediately catches your eye. 

All the while the stranger is leaning against the door. “Kinda cold to not even spare a look at him.” 

Hands behind his back, ankles against the chair legs, a gag in his mouth and his head sagging between his shoulders. It doesn’t even compute to you who you are seeing until you see the sweet curve of his puffy cheeks, his short black bangs over his nose and his white short sleeve shirt soaked in his blood. 

The stranger adds, “He has never looked better.” 

Your body starts shaking uncontrollably as you soak in Beomgyu, the only man you believed his promises of unconditional love and companionship, on that chair. 

You kneel by his side, facing the intruder and immediately looking for the pulse point in Beomgyu’s neck, and then in his wrist. No. No. Your fingers dig into his skin. You think you feel a throb. Your tears start falling on the arm chair, on his jeans. You try it all again. From the corner of your eye, you see the intruder shifting closer to you. You take a step back, clutching Beomgyu's wrist. 

“The only thing you are doing is feeling your own pulse, sweetie. Or is it his?” 

“What did you do to him?” 

The mask stares at you right back. 

“What did you do?” You scream, your voice cracking and getting hoarse because of the tears. Your anger only grows as you clasp the statue.  

“I made him perfect for you.” 

You aren’t thinking about how he will hit you when you launch at him. You aren’t thinking about how your screams will be muffled by the music from your neighbor’s party. You aren’t even thinking about where you will hit him and if you actually manage it to land where you want it. You hear him groan and then you hear a thud. You are shaking, a crazy unadulterated ball of energy in his arms he fails to contain until he grabs you by your forearms. The only thing you are thinking is that if he doesn’t let you go then you won’t let him go unscarred. Thus, you grab his hood and pull it off. 

First you make the end of a pointy nose, then you notice the outline of a sharp jaw, finally you notice the flat bangs of platinum hair covering his eyes. 

When he straightens his posture, meeting your stare, you are sure at any point you’ll start heaving. 

“Kai?” 

Nothing is behind the eyes of Beomgyu’s best friend if maybe not boredom. Perhaps some apathy. 

“Hello.” 

“Is he dead?” 

He chuckles, passing a hand through his face. You hate the casualty of that gesture. You did not tell him a joke. You have not just finished playfighting with him. 

“Is he?” You press and you sound so soft it disgusts you. Even in the midst of this you can’t help but try to talk to him with the same sweetness you had for him this afternoon when you gave him Sputnik. Fuck, did he do anything to her too? “How could you do this to him?” 

“I’d say I have gone easy on him.”

“W-what?”

“He was so easy to attack. Didn’t put up too much of a fight.” He goes past you and circles around Beomgyu, caressing from his left to his right shoulder and playing with the ends of his hair. “Took my knife so well too.” 

You double over yourself, holding onto the wall. When did he attack him? How come you didn’t hear a thing?

“Kai, what have you done?”

His voice lacks the teasing edge of Beomgyu’s. Rather, he speaks matter-of-factly, standing in the living room in alarming stillness. “Show you how much I like you. I always loved that hateful look in your eyes. It was the first thing that attracted me to you.” He passes a hand through Beomgyu’s hair and his head is so pliant to the touch that it easily falls back against the headrest. Oh, he is dead, isn’t he? “You have no idea how much I hated to see it go away by this clown. I loved the way you would talk to people as if they were beneath you. The way you would sit and listen to them as if they were wasting your time. I took care of every single one who was not grateful for it.” 

You are immediately brought back to Kai sitting with you at the park with your two nieces. He had sat with you on the bench, claiming he was in the area because of his sisters. And he had watched with a smile while your nieces dragged you to filth, one of them calling you ugly just to get a rise out of you. 

Your heart sinks to your belly. 

“How many people have you hurt?” 

“Don’t worry. Your nieces are fine.” Your temperature drops. You can’t keep a straight face to save your life. “I punish them according to how much they hurt you. I made sure to hide your nieces’ toys behind a bush after calling you ugly and I did this to Beomgyu for ruining you. Ever since he introduced us I wanted to be the one to erase the hate in your eyes but every time he just had to get in the way. So I did the only thing that could bring that hate back. First I tried entering your house but your dog made it so much harder. Though I must say, I am glad it put us on the same page.” You aren’t sure you are breathing for a full second. Kai—trying to enter your house, your dog, the beginning of realizing your desires. He is lying. He must be. But then how does he know about it when you didn’t even say this to even Beomgyu himself? “Now I’ll be able to erase it and once I am done with you, you’ll be filled with my love.”

Ha. Fucking weirdo. He could keep on dreaming. Not even in your next life would you let him breathe in your general direction. 

Determined, you twist the doorknob and pull but as you are crossing the threshold, he is kicking you behind your knee, making you wobble and ultimately fall. He wraps his arm around your belly, pressing your back against his chest and effectively dragging you out of the way as he closes the door, locks it and throws your car keys somewhere you don’t see. He coos at your expression—at your deep scowl and the tears that you still refuse to let go. “I’m sorry noona. I don’t like hitting you but I like you so much I can’t let you ruin this for us.” 

And as if he can’t get any grosser, any more pathetic, he buries his head on the gap between your face and your shoulder, sniffling your pulse point as he rubs against your ass. 

You cringe the moment he starts and it only gets worse when he is panting against your ear, a desperate sound that startles you. His hands knead your hips, and the more strength he puts into his touch, the harder he is humping you. Every time he exhales you expect the wet trace of his tongue, his saliva sticking to your skin, but it is just his warm breath against your skin and the certainty that he is going to leave you all sticky any second now. You want nothing more than to wretch. 

“Noona,” he moans, “Noona, do you hate me?” 

“What do you think?”

The moment you finish your sentence he is tensing against you, and he lets out a high pitch sound that makes you groan out of disgust. He lays his cheek against your back. 

“I think I’m having my favorite noona back.”

 He keeps thrusting at leisure and the more you crawl away from him the tighter his hold gets. It isn’t until you pant, feeling crazy this is where your night is taking you, crazy that the man you trusted is going cold in a chair behind you and crazy that the man your boyfriend trusted is using you with this desperation, that Kai is trembling, bunching your shirt in his fist and scratching your belly with his dull nails. 

“Noona,” he moans, “Noona, noona, noona, noona.” 

You go from feeling his dick twitching to feeling it still and leak into your shorts. 

Even if you end up dying, you have to at least try to leave. 

The moment his grip loosens, you elbow his stomach. The strike knocks him backwards and you try your best to jump over him, avoiding his hands. You think you may have landed over his arm at the way he winces but you don’t stop. In fact, the only time you hesitate is when you get close to Beomgyu’s chair, and you go back and forth between untying him or grabbing one of the picture frames; you end up choosing the latter. If he is unconscious then it is better for you to run for your life and try to get help for the both of you. You throw the picture frame against the window and you try to stop yourself from shaking when you see it bounce back. It is a tampered laminated glass, preferring an extra strong one because you were exhausted that the kids in your neighborhood always broke your previous single-plane windows with their flying soccer balls or baseballs. You throw other stuff at it: an ashtray, a flower vase, a mug, and then a plate. Everything shatters or bounces back. You turn on your feet, finding Kai on the same spot though he’s tipping his head back, looking at you upside down. All you perceive is his long lashes and a sweet smile—lingering, almost breathless. The moment you drop your gaze you find he is caressing a spot right below his shoulder though not with particular soothingness. 

“I want to feel the pain you give me, noona. I like whatever you give me.” You cut yourself mid shudder. You can’t let him get to your brain. You can’t let him get away with it. You sprint towards the stairs to which he chuckles in delight. “So this is how we are doing this? Oh, you run very fast!” 

“Fuck you, bastard!” 

To your horror, he immediately incorporates and even in your daze you see how immersed and fast his gait is as he gets to the bottom of the stairs in a matter of seconds. You look at the string leading to the attic, wondering if you’ll be fast enough to pull it and if he won’t seize you as you do so or worse, drag you at the moment you start climbing its stairs. “You are heading to the attic? Ok!” When you take a sharp left instead, he gasps, taking his last stride to get to you. Thankfully, you manage to lock yourself in your room when you hear him: sugary sweet, mocking, and completely wrong. “Aw, why did you lie to me~?” 

He throws his body against your door, rattling it. If he bursts in then you can’t hide in the closet or under the bed. He’ll find you immediately. You open the door to your balcony, trying to keep the curtains as undisturbed as possible and making sure to close the door with a soft click. There is nothing on the balcony except a couple dead plants and dust. You put your hands on the railing, looking at your neighbor’s house but the curtains are drawn close. They and their guests are nothing but dancing shadowy figures under the multicolor lights, unaware of your panting, your bloodshot eyes, your wrinkled clothes. You sigh, looking down at the perfectly cut grass of your yard. How much will a fall from the second floor hurt and does that even matter when compared with the prospect of what Kai has in store for you? You can still hear the rattling of his body against your door, the way the hinges are ready to give in once he nudges it just right. When the railing moves from side to side at the pressure of your weight, you think you are getting a sign. And you might, because at that very moment, your door gives in. But you don’t jump. 

Instead you lean against the right wall adjacent to the balcony entry, trying to repress any sound. You know you have to jump. You know there’s no other option and yet your nails keep digging into the wall behind you, scraping the flaky paint off and jumping at the slightest noise.

Kai, on the other hand, seems ecstatic. His steps are muffled by your fluffy white carpet but you hear nothing for a couple seconds except those steps. Then there is a giggle and the flicker of his hand swatting up your bed cover. “Are you here?” Your heart clatters in your ribcage and you can’t help your hands from peeling the paint. When you hear your closet door banging open, and Kai’s animated, “Or are you here?” Your mind goes back to the white fluffy carpet Kai’s stepping on now. It had left you speechless when Beomgyu gave it to you as a gift for your third month anniversary, so adorable and unexpected but so utterly Beomgyu you could not stop yourself from jumping onto his arms, kissing all over his face and then biting him once your cuteness-aggression got the best of you. What kind of person did he turn you into? Just with the simple act of pressing you against his chest, touching your hair in a way that he also touched your ear, the side of your face, your neck. And now he is in that chair. And you can’t even bring yourself to jump. 

You stand up in front of the railing with the comfort that this has never been a matter of choice anyway. 

You put your dominant leg past the railing, holding to it with all your might. You look at your neighbor’s house, hoping somebody comes out and sees you. Hoping you’ll soon be in your yard and have enough strength to incorporate before Kai has a chance to get to you. 

When your other leg joins the opposite side of the railing, you think gravity is taking too long to get you down. There is a pressure in your stomach and you don’t realize you are screaming until your back hits your mattress and Kai’s face is hovering yours with a look in his eyes that if you dare to name you’ll have to tear yourself off from your own skin. “You should have jumped way sooner, noona.” 

Next thing you know he’s putting you over his shoulder and carrying you downstairs. 

The stairs are zooming in and out of your eyes and you are hitting his back with your fists and you are sure you have kicked him in the face a couple of times. Despite his grip on you faltering for seconds, he doesn’t put you down until he carefully places you on the couch as if you were brittle glass, perhaps a doll that will give in if he is too rough. You hate every second of it so it is no surprise that at no point do you stop scratching and kicking him. He even takes a few steps back when you kick him in the stomach but when you try to escape the couch he is grabbing you by your shoulders, putting all of his weight to keep you down. “You wanted this noona!” He screams. You shake your head side to side in a frenzy. No. Not like this. Never like this. “What is the difference between doing this with Beomgyu and doing this with me?” 

“It’s my fantasy!” You scream back, a wild animal at night with the EDM music from your neighbor muffled by your windows. Kai is breathing hard, cheeks flushed, and you think you see the beginning of a bruise on the underside of his cheek. Good. He can’t do all of this to you and walk away unscarred. “I am the one who decides how far I go, how I want it, and who I want it with!” 

“Then use me.” He whispers, voice broken and a tinge hopeful. He is almost the Kai Beomgyu introduced you to after the first concert you attended to: shy, reserved, a bit aloof but extremely playful and invested in others’ wellbeing once you knew him better. You thought you knew him better but he proves you wrong once again when he whispers in your ear. “Use me and I’ll make sure Beomgyu walks out of here alive.” 

It is horrendous when he says it. It’s even more horrendous that your chest is pressed against his and his lips graze yours as he speaks every word. Use me. It is horrendous because his heavy-lidded eyes are sparkling at the prospect of your response and because despite all the fear and disgust in your body his words bump against the confinements of your head, shaking them to their very foundations. Since the moment Kai hurt Beomgyu, since the moment he entered your house, did you even have a choice? You have escaped Kai’s grasp only to finish on the same couch he had you merely an hour ago. Only to finish in front of Beomgyu’s body, tied to that chair, a witness to your tragedy or a warning of what awaits you. You are disgusted by considering it but when Kai kisses you as if you had created and destroyed his world, you realize it is a simple equation: either total surrender or take this fleeting chance, this mere illusion, that there’s a way out of harm. A way into agency.

You kiss him back. 

And it may be worse than being flushed against a wall or worse than being dragged and kept under the pressure of waves or worse than being buried alive. This ruthless force that creeps up your body, that comes and grows from your body itself, and holds you down until you give it everything you’ve got. He kisses you so fast and with such desperation you mostly let him kiss you but every time your mouth meets a part of his lips he is groaning against you in shameless glee. 

“You know what a pain it was to hack Beomgyu’s phone to know what he texted you?” Kai asks, licking his lips as he pulls out the knife to slide on the sides of your neck, in a touch that is supposed to show you the possibility of its edge. A sudden heat rises in your skin and you look down to see he has cut your shirt right in the center. He passes the knife between your breasts, a thin trail of blood appearing. Maybe he wants to crack you wide open, leech off the warmth of your guts. “How fucked up my back ended after sleeping on my car, trying to get a glimpse of you through your window?” 

“Kai” you mumble, terrified when it dawns on you this is a real knife. You pass your hands through his hair, petting his head, hoping your warmth will satiate him. “Kai, shhh.” 

“Don’t shush me, noona. I have so much love to give you. How can you be so cruel?” You want to scoff. How have you ever been cruel to him? But you say nothing as he holds you by the back of your head, lifting you from the couch and forcing you to look at him. “I read all you texted Beomgyu. I read all the notes he had to make this night happen. I spent nights wrecking my brain what you liked about this. Is it the element of surprise? Is it how helpless and small it makes you feel?” 

“Yes,” you say, ready to get in the way between you and your shame. The more you think about what this night could’ve been, what this night isn’t, you won’t be able to keep on going. Kai must see it in your eyes because his fingers go to your clit, barely pressing in, but it is the light and precise contact that makes you outright moan. It is so fast it only gives you time to pant and clench your teeth, shame bouncing off the walls of your body. You feel like the wild animal of the night that Kai has turned you into, a wild animal of the night that can’t help but flock to him. No better than Sputnik. 

“Don’t lie to me noona. Lies of omission are still lies. If it was up to me I would’ve serenaded you, I would’ve brought you flowers, I would’ve taken you on a proper date, but I wanted to give you exactly what you wanted.” 

You try to imagine what it would have been, what maybe is, in another world. If you close your eyes you can conjure the honey-like tenderness of his voice outside your window, pulling you out of the webs of your dreams to find him under the moonlight like an apparition or a new found and small longing. Would he have sung of love or would he have sung of obsession? If you had never come down from your balcony, would he have walked away alright with the rejection or would he have climbed up to your window to take you to where you are both now?

Kai gets close to your face, so close you see the mole on the tip of his nose, which you have never seen in real life. When you gasp again you don’t do it because two of his fingers are entering you but because you remember when he joined you in the park he showed you his baby pictures, and you had chastised him for covering his moles. It makes you look so adorable. Especially the one on your nose. You drop your gaze to his cheek, to his lips, to his jaw. All there. And when you look up, the mole right up his left eye, like a last finishing touch, meets your surprised and slightly terrified stare. “What you like is the devotion, right? The time it takes to make you happy, to satiate you. Don’t you think I delivered on all of this?” 

You groan partly out of frustration but also partly out of the sweet ache he’s causing between your legs, two fingers deep and hitting your G-spot with such precision that makes you moan with absolute and horrid joy. Perhaps the most disturbing part of it all is that Kai’s right. You wanted someone to please your most debauched fantasies without having to ask. It had been a pain to trust Beomgyu enough to tell him what you wanted. Hundreds of sleepless nights and dozens of afternoons rehearsing in the mirror what you would answer once he rejected you. You had been proud of yourself for daring to be that liberated. And now here is Kai, giving you the real thing and you don’t want it. 

You shake your head back and forth. No. You can’t let his words get to you but it is impossible when his eyes are frantically trailing back and forth from your furrowed eyebrows to your fluttering eyelashes, down to your open and awaiting mouth. When he curls his fingers, increasing his speed, a jolt goes through your body and you finally realize how much of your own wetness is dripping through the sides of his palm. You close your eyes and squirm back and forth, so fucking ashamed. Maybe if you refuse to see him it would feel like he is not even there.

But that would be too easy. 

He leans down to your ear, whispering, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” You close your eyes tighter. It doesn’t matter how hard you close them, or how much you try to put a mental distance between him and your body, you can sense the way his eyes are going through you, like another sharp knife. “Cat got your tongue?” 

Your line rolls off so easily it almost aches. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

And his smile. Oh. His smile… “Then you better make me feel at home here, right, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he goes all the way between your legs and starts sucking on your clit. It is so sudden you are burying your nails in his shoulders, your eyes snapping wide shut to Beomgyu on that terrible chair. You don’t know what you are afraid of more, either Beomgyu finding you in the throes of pleasure or the picture of filth and betrayal Kai and you must make in that soiled couch. Kai sucks, licks, and teases the head of your clit in a cycle that has your head spinning and burying your nails deeper and deeper into his shoulders. When he licks a clean stripe from your clit to your entrance tracing its shape, you are kicking him, the pleasure wrecking your body to the point you are terrified of coming, terrified of how you taste and smell, terrified down to being too wet. But he cups your asscheeks, dragging you back to his mouth, eager to devour you whole—and that he does. He keeps you in that position as if you are nothing but another meal he lifts off his table. The way his nose rubs against your clit and how his tongue enters you in one swipe, drinking all you have to give him, all that is not his, makes you close your thighs around his head while his fingers knead your ass. By the time your ears are ringing, you feel something gushing out and Kai’s lifting his face from your legs, flushed, soaked and with a thousand stars in his eyes, all for you. 

You can’t stand to watch him. It feels unfair for such a horrible and devious creature to be that pretty. A part of you wants to throw a tantrum to whoever made this world—why did they have to make things that were so heinous that beautiful? Why put so much thought and time in a face like that one, if unlike all the beautiful things on Earth, this one lacks a drop of goodness? 

You don’t know and it burns you that you might never know. It is all so pointless. So utterly pointless. 

Kai nuzzles his cheek against yours as he takes off the robe and then his shirt. When he unbuttons his pants, he’s all efficiency and anticipation. “I swear it’s not pointless, noona.” 

Each of his huge palms goes to your thighs to keep you folded in half. For a while there is nothing but his breathing and the constant thrumming of your neighbor’s party. You don’t perceive Kai is scanning you up and down until you lift your head, finding his slightly gaped mouth and his fingers collecting your wetness. He has you squirming—a pathetic, dissected and pinned down worm at the mercy of his obsession. 

“Been wanting to write my name in your juices ever since I saw you.” You try to resist a moan and push back the memory of Beomgyu and you writing that on the script. I want you to write your name with both of our cums. Kai’s index is soft against your belly as he writes the entirety of his name. Huening Kai Kamal. “Show all the world you are mine.” Mine. And he punctuates that by inserting the tip of his dick into you, just like you had told Beomgyu one cozy Saturday night you like it. For how long has Kai been planning this? “All mine.” 

Kai has a tight hold of his dick and he puts the head in and out of you until you taste the blood of your bottom lip. You are subjected to every twitch and the warmth of his precum leaking into your pussy, finding its way to your ass crack, soiling the sofa. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Next time Kai speaks again, he’s all breathless. “Gonna make sure I keep being invited to this house.” 

And then he starts pushing in. 

He’s of similar size and girth as Beomgyu but something about how he bucks into you makes you shiver. The flicker of a cap comes into your hearing, then something cold is nestling between your folds and engulfing the rest of his dick. “Holy fuck.” 

More than hurt or ache, it burns, the friction between your clamped walls and his veins. Tears well into your eyes, your entrance itching and relieved that something is entering you despite all the pain. God. How are you ever going to explain this to Beomgyu?

Once half of his dick is in, you are groaning, feeling like you are about to burst. And when Kai slaps you, cheek scalding, he’s finally sinking deeper into you. “Gotta do what I gotta do to fuck you open.” 

And so he does. 

He thrusts in so violently it should hurt. It would be so much better if it hurt. You would take it over the current torture of his hips snapping up, determined on hitting your G-spot repeatedly. You would take screams of pain and pleads of mercy over your humiliating gulps and sobs and mewls that increase when Kai hits you with a “Dumb bitch, can’t help to want me this bad. Gonna have you barking any second now.” It terrifies you that you like this degradation as much as you like it, that even when he’s speeding his thrusts you are accelerating not towards fear but to a perfect state of mindlessness your always loud mind has never been able to achieve on its own. 

Even then, once Kai puts his weight on you, you keep staring at Beomgyu through Kai’s shoulder, swearing you are seeing Beomgyu’s fingers twitch. It’s enough to make Kai break character. “Noona, look at me.” Are you crazy? Is the frenzy of Kai’s thrusts making you think everything is moving and twitching with you? “Look.” 

As you continue to ignore him, he grabs you by your cheeks causing you to wince. That sweet, attractive smile is back on his lip and it only grows when he harshly presses against the bulge in your navel, resting part of his weight enough so it cuts your breathing. “Yeah. The more pissed you are the better noona. So much better.” 

And even though he proceeds to grab you by your shoulders, giving it to you so hard the couch is rattling against your case, making the frames, the books, and the CDs give in after each of Kai’s thrusts, you have the gall, the crazy audacity, to put your hand around his neck and squeeze. 

His eyes widen but he doesn’t stop. Instead the harder you squeeze the harder he hammers against your cervix, your pussy making such loud noises it will probably wake up Beomgyu any minute now. “I’m gonna fucking come,” Kai wheezes, his eyes barely open, all of that silver hair over his face, the sharp line of his jaw in and out of your vision, his skin golden under the lamp post from outside your house. But he doesn’t come. Instead, he does something much worse. 

He flips you over, putting you face down on the couch. You are twitching non stop, leaking his juices and yours, as your body craves to continue being fucked into that other world he has started to help you glimpse. You think he is going to but then he is putting a hand under your chin, raising it until you are facing Beomgyu. 

When you try to look away, he grabs a fist of your hair, and pulls. 

“Been fisting my dick to you every night since I met you. I could never get my hands on your panties so I jacked off at the smell of your dirty napkins. I would drink your unfinished water bottles and get hard thinking about your lips anywhere in me. I even masturbated in Beomgyu’s room and sniffed his pillows trying to catch a whiff of you. I collected some of your hairs that way.” You are shuddering when you hear that and you think you are going to throw up. Plus, his grip in your hair is so tight you don’t know if tears are prickling your eyes because of it or because of Beomgyu’s blank face. “Now all I need to do is to prove a point.” 

And just like that, he slides back into you. 

The sounds he’s pulling out of you are absolutely debouched and filthy. Kai’s going with the same precision as before, but this time he’s so fast his balls are snapping against you in a frenzy that has you even wetter and tighter. He must love this position because he’s moaning even louder and twitching non stop. “Do you think we’ll wake him up?” 

“F--fuck Kai.” And when he starts rubbing your clit even faster, you are howling, “Kai. Kai!”

“Want him to see me mounting you noona. Fucking you pliant and happy.” And he’s getting what he wants because your extremities are shaking, your tears are going past your chin, and right next to your panic, all you can think about is there, there, there, keep fucking me there. Beomgyu is going to wake up any minute now and what the fuck are you going to do then. What? What? What? Well, for sure you are not going to reach an answer because Kai is now rubbing your clit in tight and fast circles you are sure his wrist must be aching. Oh you are long gone now. Maybe for a long time. Maybe since forever. And Kai is in no better taste because with a breathy and high pitch voice, he moans. “Coming noona, coming!” 

You choke on a sound while he pulls on your hair, keeping your head up. It has a domino effect: you are coming so hard you coax it out of him, so hard he fills you with his seed your knees give out. But just as that happens, just as you are shaking beneath Kai, squirting all over him, you see Beomgyu blinking up confusedly and his brown eyes settle in on you. 

It makes you groan and squeeze Kai harder as he sobs out of the overstimulation but his hips keep snapping, relishing on the painful pleasure you give him. When your third mini orgasm stops, Kai falls on top of you, as if he’s completely giving up in life itself. 

Your and his panting are the only thing in your ears as well as the constant hammering of the music. Until it isn’t. “God, can I cum now?” 

You move away from Kai to find Beomgyu shuffling against his constraints, tears in those huge brown eyes and a trembling bottom lip that has you clenching and Kai twitching inside you. 

You throw your head back, absolutely exhausted. “It was your idea to be tied up during the scene.” 

Beomgyu whines. Fuck. You should have not chosen to roleplay a scene that included your actual identities and relationships to each other but Beomgyu had sweettalked you with how great it would be to go meta with it. Some real nerd shit, he had assured you. And so you did: you roleplayed since the moment you dropped off Sputnik, knowing damn well that was not Kai’s house, that his sisters had agreed to take care of your dog (and that you in fact knew them since high school) and that Kai had never met your nieces since you didn’t have any. All just background work to make him look like a prince and then absolutely unhinged. You were so committed, in fact, you brought props that would not damage your window and even wrote a fake script on top of a real one to feel more immersed in your character. Sadly for you, Beomgyu, Kai and you are massive nerds. 

“I know. I just didn’t expect to play dead while you guys fucked would get me so horny.” 

Kai lifts himself off you and there you see it: Beomgyu’s dick out of his zipper and a puddle of his pre-cum leaking into the floor. 

Despite your exhaustion, you untie Beomgyu’s arms and Kai unties his legs. In less than an instant, Beomgyu is all over you both, kissing you everywhere his mouth and eagerness takes him. A slick sound is followed by “thank you thank you thank you” when Kai takes out the anal plug (your idea!) and cries of relief when you slide the cock ring (Kai’s idea!) out of Beomgyu. It is torture. Total torture. But as the three of you wrestle to the floor, your pussy hovering over Beomgyu’s face as Kai starts lining up to take him, Beomgyu is sure he actually died and went to heaven. If this is torture then he hopes his life is full of all types of pains and struggles next year, and the following year, and the year after that. 

Nightwing, in a joking voice: you know What Else has a hole in it?

Red Hood: *rolls eyes* what?

Nightwing: my side *passes out*

Summary: You perfected the art of pretending you were okay. Until pretending almost killed you. You lost the love of your life but you never stopped looking for him.

PART 1

PART 2

Angst, vulnerability, anger, romantic tragedy, heartbreak

Word count: 4.4k

Trigger warnings: self harm, blood, accidents, swear words, mature content, sad ending, probably lots of medical inaccuracies, plot twist

Notes: I will definitely be doing part 4 (FINAL) !! lmk if you want to be added to the tag list

— — 

It was true what people said, you were stronger than you ever gave yourself credit for. 

But being strong didn’t mean you weren’t broken. It didn’t mean that you didn’t glue yourself together every morning before leaving for work.

Being strong meant that what you had gone through taught you that you indeed wanted to live, and you got given a second chance. Not to make things right, no. But to make things new. 

You made it to work, despite your body protesting today. “Bad day?” Someone asked. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw the charge nurse, Barbara “Oh hey, morning” you looked down at yourself “yep, one of them days”

“You’ve got an easy clinic today. But if it starts playing up you gotta tell me” 

“You’re not sending me home Barbara, if that’s what you’re thinking”

“Never sweet girl but I also don’t want you struggling”