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turning seasons 🌸🌻🍁❄️

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start of new cycle of spring, time to finally posting the full sets!

If only yall could see my twitter bookmarks....

joel miller • be quiet, or i’ll make you

“Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n’ deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”

WARNINGS - smut smut smut mdni, porn with some plot, forced proximity, feral!joel, risky/secret sex, brutal sex, size!kink, dubcon if you squint but mostly a mutual want situation, reader and joel have an unspoken relationship, copious amounts of dirty talk, piv, creampie, daddy dom joel.

The world ended in disaster.

You’ve lived with that knowledge for years now, and you think you’ve finally come to terms with the kind of things you’ll get from it. Pain. Loss. Destruction. The same chaos, day in day out, just in different forms.

You know that at this point you’ll be lucky if you survive until tomorrow; so you take it in stride.

And it’s with that thought that you find yourself following Joel into the city, your steps just as reluctant as he was to agree to this. You don’t particularly want to be out here — and neither does he — but you’ve been wanting to look for more medical supplies for a while now and Joel wasn’t about to let you go alone. Despite how much bitchin’ he did beforehand.

You can’t tell which is more depressing; the streets covered in broken glass and littered with remnants of a life long gone, or the buildings that are nearly crumbling to the ground. Neither are very pleasant to look at, but not many things are these days, so you keep moving. You have a job to do, and you don’t have too much time to do it — the sun won’t be up much longer, and you want to get the fuck out of here before the real dangerous kinds of people come out lookin’ for their next meal.

Or, whatever Joel had said earlier. Mostly just in attempt to scare you.

Minutes feel like hours as you keep your gaze pointed forward, and when you pass a shattered window belonging to some old broken down building, you don’t dare look inside.

You’d rather not know what lingers inside death eaten walls.

But it’s while you’re doing that, keeping your gaze ahead, that you miss the fact that Joel has stopped walking. When it finally registers that the world around you has gotten quieter - and when you finally do turn around - you’re surprised for two reasons.

The first being that he even stopped at all, and the second being the fucking look on his face.

“You alright?” You ask as you edge closer, glancing at the abandoned building that’s in front of him. It doesn’t look like anything remarkable, but there’s definitely something in the way he stares at it. “Joel, you still with me?”

He isn’t saying anything, his expression is rather blank — but you know him well enough to know that he’s not just seeing what’s right in front of him. He’s seeing something else entirely. He snaps back to attention faster than you would have expected at the sound of your voice, and when his eyes land down on yours - there’s something inside them that makes your heart sink.

“Somethin’s wrong.” Is all he says before he’s grabbing your wrist, and yanking you inside.

Your heart starts pounding faster, but you try your best to stay calm. He isn’t the kind of man who would panic without cause, so you know he must have seen something - or heard something - and you’re doing your best not to let that scare you.

“Joel—shit—what the hell—“ you stumble over rubble and pieces of broken furniture. “What’re you—“

He’s pulling you deeper into the building, not giving you a chance to stand still long enough to say more. When you get to a staircase he yanks you down a few steps, waiting for the sound of the door shutting behind you before shoving your shoulders back against the wall.

“You listen to me—“ he’s panting, words spat through grit teeth. “You’re gonna’ shut up, and you’re gonna’ stay quiet. Can you do that for me?”

The tone of his voice alone forces you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from talking. It’s been a long, long time since you’ve seen him this serious. You’d almost forgotten that he was capable of producing this kind of tension - the kind that’s so palpable it could be cut with a knife.

So, you just nod, lips pressed into a thin line, and you hope that it’s enough.

“Alright.” He doesn’t seem certain of your answer, but he nods anyway, reaching for your wrist again and dragging you down the remaining stairs.

When you get to the bottom, he opens the door slowly, eyes darting around until they land on a nearby closet - and it’s only after the first step you take towards it that you hear noises on the floor above you.

Footsteps.

And way too fucking many for you to be comfortable.

The kind of heavy, laden-boot marching you’d dread to hear on good days - nevermind while you’re out in dangerous territory, trying your damnest to flee unseen. It’s only seconds before the steps grow louder, and you can feel your heart rate speeding up again - while Joel is staring at the ceiling with such intensity you think that he might just be able to will it to break if he so much as blinked at it.

Then, in a flash, he snaps out of it - dragging you toward the closet and shoving you inside before you can even think about protesting.

And god, is it fucking cramped.

The closet is small. Small enough that you have to force yourself closer to the wall so that he has space to squeeze inside behind you. And it’s within the first second that he shuts the door, and the darkness swallows you both whole - in which you realize you have a new problem altogether.

“Joel—“ you choke out as a heavy palm snakes around your waist, pressing tight against your belly. He’s a solid wall behind you, his front flush against your back, and all you can fucking feel is his hot breath against your ear - his stubble tickling your cheek. “What’s—“

“No talking.” And then he brings his free hand up to cover your mouth, and you have to stifle a noise that threatens to explode in your chest. “Not a fuckin’ word.”

You take solace in the fact that he can’t see how flushed your face becomes, but your stupid brain is working overtime - overanalyzing the feeling of his calloused palm against your lips, the heat of his mouth way too fucking close to your ear, his free hand that seems to be sliding lower down your abdomen—

“Stop squirming.” He whispers, all heat as his fingers press a little harder against your lower stomach.

You long to bark at him. I can’t control it.

But you can’t. So instead you try to focus on the sounds of the people upstairs. You try to pay more attention to the way your heart is threatening to break free through your sternum. Anything to try and take your mind off of the way he’s touching you - but he makes it so, so hard.

You’re certain you would have a better fighting chance if you were to try and move mountains.

Without even thinking, your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, and it’s then that his lips curve into a smile against your ear. And when the realization comes crashing down - the realization that he’s fully aware of what’s happening to you - you think you may just collapse.

Oh, god, this is torture.

If it were anyone else, you’d think this was a joke. You’d think that perhaps the way he’s touching you was some kind of attempt at making the terrifying just a little more tolerable, a little more exhilarating for different reasons - but this isn’t just anyone. This is Joel. And you know his mind never works like what. Instead, he simply acts on instinct - in ways that usually leave you reeling and your thoughts in a whirlwind.

You’ve been through this a million times with him.

Unsurprisingly, this time is no different.

And as you try to focus on the footsteps above you - desperately searching for a thought, a train of any kind to follow - his hand moves again, fingertips tracing the waistband of your dirt covered cargos - barely dipping between fabric and skin.

It’s slow, teasing, but it’s enough. And you don’t currently have enough control over yourself to stop your back from arching, pressing directly against the bulge in his jeans that’s growing impatiently despite himself.

And it’s the way he exhales in your ear, the way you hear him inhale right after before his nose brushes the shell of your ear — before his hand dips lower to trace the zipper of your fly — that you find yourself fighting for your life to swallow the moan that threatens to spill because the people on the second floor are now shouting and hollering, and the whole floor seems to quake under the force of their heavy boots.

A second passes. Then two, and then ten — there’s silence. You’re pretty sure the steps are now heading away from where you’re hiding, and you think Joel must agree because he slips his hand from your mouth, sliding it down your jaw.

“Joel—“ you choke out, the last syllables of his name sounding desperate. “I-we—“

And yet again, you aren’t able to finish, because he has a habit of taking the words you think you want to say straight from your chest. You aren’t able to process it until a moment later - when his mouth finds your neck, fingers slipping into your now unzipped cargo pants.

This isn’t what you meant.

You don’t have the chance to tell him that. You don’t have the cognitive ability to push the idea that this isn’t the time. You don’t even have enough room in your head to acknowledge how this could go so badly, so quickly. You’re too drunk on the high of his touch to think straight.

And when his fingers drag the lace of your underwear to the side - all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and pray to a God you’re sure you’ve never actually believed in that you’ll survive this without the shame over how fucking soaked you are eating you alive first.

His fingers find your clit, making slow, small circles. Just enough to make you keen. Just enough to make you forget who you are, and what you’re doing. You think if he keeps it up for any longer, the sounds trapped behind your teeth are going to jailbreak before you can get a handle on them. He knows it too - because it’s only a split second after that thought enters your mind, that he whispers gravel in your ear again.

“If y’can’t stay quiet, I’ll make you.” And it’s said with enough sternness to let you know that it isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. “Be good f’me.”

You don’t know if you can. You don’t know if you can possibly keep yourself silent. Not when his lips are teasing your burning flesh, not when his fingers are rolling your clit, not when he’s whispering promises of heaven in your ear.

But it’s then, that you hear the floorboards creak, and you know then, that you have no choice.

Either find a way to stay silent, or throw yourself headfirst into danger.

“Mm.” He hums as his fingers slip lower, sliding along your slit until they find your embarrassingly wet heat - to which you find yourself widening your feet despite yourself.

And this time, the noise that slips isn’t audible. Not to him anyway. But you can feel the sound vibrate the back of your throat. You can feel the way it glides over your tongue - and when you have the wherewithal, you bite down on your bottom lip, hard enough that it’s almost painful. He doesn’t seem to notice, and you’re glad because you know he’d only find it funny.

He pushes a finger into you, and holy fuck—

“Oh—“ the sound gets out of your mouth before you can stop it, involuntarily defying his direct order to shut the fuck up.

You hope, foolishly, it was quiet enough for him to not hear.

It isn’t, and as a result the hand that had been sitting lazily around your jaw slips firm over your mouth again, yanking your head back against his shoulder. You feel his fingers tighten as if to let you know that it’ll only get harder as his finger pushes deeper, and then retreats, pumping into you slow and steady.

“F-fuck—“ your whine is smothered against his palm, and you somehow have half the mind to realize the footsteps have stopped. Vanished. “J-joel.”

You’re expecting some type of response, some biting be quiet — but instead, all you get is a deep grunt in your ear and a roll of his hips against your ass as he slides another finger into your cunt, thumb brushing your clit.

And there’s almost no fight in you left to resist this - to resist the pleasure he’s pouring into your veins. You’d curse him if you could, if you could put more than four coherent words together to do it - but all there seems to be left in your mind is his name, which he’s using against you like he always does.

“Good girl.” He praises between slow, steady thrusts and you have to wonder what kind of game he’s playing to get you like this - to get you so undone you don’t even remember your own goddamn name.

Then again, you know better than to think there’s a game, at all. There are no games with Joel. He does what he wants and you’re either the benefit of it, or you’re the object of his ire.

But when a third finger slips into you, stretching and stuffing your cunt wider than you were mentally prepared for - you forget about any of that as you bite down on his hand as hard as you dare because it’s just too fucking much.

“J-joel—“ you try again, shaking your head. The footsteps haven’t returned. You have to believe they’re gone. You know Joel knows it too. “P-please—“

And like someone struck a match in a room full of gasoline, he seems to have decided that you’ve waited long enough. In the blink of an eye, you feel his palm leave your mouth, and move to the limited space between you. He’s unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the matter, huh?” He all but growls in your ear, still pumping his fingers deep. “Three too much for you? How d’ya think you’re gonna’ take my cock if you can’t even take my fuckin’ fingers.”

God. His voice is deep, dripping like sin. It goes straight to the center of your chest and you feel like the walls of your rib cage are cracking open. You have no idea how you’re going to be able to take him like this - especially when he’s so far gone it’s like he’s forgotten himself.

“I-I don’t know—“ and it’s the truth. You have no concept of how you’ll take a single drop of him in this state. But he’s already shifted himself free, pulling his fingers out to yank your pants down and slide his throbbing shaft into the slick space between your thighs. “F-fuck. You’re crazy.”

“Worse.” And you already know what he’s going to tell you just by the way the word drips into your ear. “M’insane.”

Truer words.

You never imagined that you’d ever find the thought of Joel Miller going insane so enticing. You imagine all kinds of ways you would have pictured it if someone had told you back when you first met - but somehow, this was never one of the things that came to mind.

“What does that make me?” You hiss as his fingers find your clit again, as he kicks your legs a little wider to slide his leaking tip against your slit.

“A goddamned fool.” He answers as he sinks into you, and there’s never been a more divine connection in the world. He groans into your ear, and you have to bite your lip again until you’re sure you might draw blood. “But you already knew that.”

And somehow, even still - you do.

Yeah. You do. He isn’t the type of man someone can ever know fully. He’s got walls and barriers built high - a fortress, impenetrable and vast - but somehow, you still manage to squeeze your way through it. It isn’t lost on you that you’re the only one who has.

“J-joel—go fuckin’ easy, please—“ you’re grabbing at the wall infront of you as he splits you open without so much as giving you a chance for breath. “It’s—been a while—“

And that stops him for a beat - but not for long, and not long enough. He still doesn’t go easy, still thrusts right to the hilt with the kind of power you’d associate with a man half his age - a man who (if the world hadn’t gone to hell) would be so close to retiring that he could taste the future on the back of his tongue - but you wouldn’t want him to anyway.

“I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it nice n’ deep, f’me. Just take it.”

And then he grabs a handful of your hair, pulling you back so he can get even deeper, your spine arching just enough.

Fucking hell.

The sound that’s almost impossible not to make threatens to rip from the pit of your chest, but you bite down in time and it turns into something between a strangled cry and an elongated whimper. You know you’re going to be walking funny tomorrow - but right now, there’s no such thing as being able to imagine tomorrow.

“You—fuck.” It’s a whisper so pained someone might think you’re actually being impaled. In some ways you are. “Oh, god, Joel. Ohmygod you’re deep—“

“There she is.” He all but growls into your ear. “There’s the tough woman I know.” If he wasn’t holding you so tightly you might’d fall at the way he suddenly slams into you. “Tightest pussy I ever had. Goddamn. You wanna feel good, huh? I’ll make you feel good. Just lemme’ have it nice n’ deep, and I’ll get you back later. Let you sit on my face for hours. Make you cum till’ you’re cryin.”

You almost bite your tongue in half at the very thought of him doing that. Your mind is a wasteland of icoherent thought - and it’s then that you know with all the certainty in the world that you’d been done for the moment he came into your life. He always had a rough edge to him - but back then, when you first met, you thought it was just the product of a shitty life. But now, you know better - now, you know he’s just a good-natured person with an innate drive to protect - and you’d go to your grave knowing that you’d go there loving him for it.

Even though, right now, it feels a lot more like he’s trying to kill you rather than protect you.

“Ohhh, fuck—“ you hiss through grit teeth as he pulls out, dragging slow at tight, wet walls. “M’close to cryin’ now.”

“Mmm.” He all but purrs. “That’ll mean I’m doin’ my job right.” There’s heat in the way he speaks that you swear would burn even the toughest person. But then again, that’s always been something you’d only ever been able to say about Joel. “M’not gonna’ be gentle. You know you ain’t deserving of it right now.”

Another time, you’d tell him he was wrong. Another time, you would have argued that you hadn’t done a single thing wrong - but right now, your thoughts are just as lost as your voice.

Still, you try your best. “W-why? Because I—mmf—dragged you outta’ bed?”

“Wrong.” You can’t see it, but you’re sure there’s a smirk on his face. “You really wanna get into it? Wanna’ make a list?”

You don’t, but you have the horrible feeling that this is going to happen either way.

“Do I have a choice?” You ask with what little breath you can find.

“No.” The word sounds so simple - but in that moment, it might as well have been a dagger. “You don’t.”

He pulls out just so he can drive back into you harder, hand sliding from your hair and back over your mouth.

“First, you dragged me outta’ bed. That right there? Shoulda been spanked for it. Next, you got yourself pinned in a goddamn closet with me after raiders chased us down. Almost got us killed.” Another painfully slow draw out, followed by a hard drive back in - smacking your cervix. “An’ for what? Cause’ you don’t wanna’ listen when I say it’s too dangerous to be out here.”

There are a million retorts you could have - most of them have something to do with you being able to take care of yourself - but none of them even find the beginning of your tongue.

He’ll take that win. Just like he takes everything else.

“Not t’mention you’ve kept this perfect ass from me for far too long.” He’s fucking you hard now, head kissing your cervix with each long thrust and you’re crying out under his palm but the sound doesn’t escape. He makes sure of it. “Mmm, yeah. Far. Too. Long.”

You want to tell him to shut up - that he’s being an ass - but you’re two broken breaths from wailing at the sting on your cervix and the pressure he’s now swirling on your clit. The only thing that’s left for you to do is the only thing you can do.

Take it.

You roll your hips, shoving back against him with every thrust just to have him hit that much deeper - and if he has something to say about it, he doesn’t say it. But he seems satisfied with just that, and suddenly, you think he’s just as close as you are.

“That’s it.” His voice is tight. “Good girl. Just like that.”

His hips snap against your ass so hard you think you might end up bruised tomorrow, but the thought only adds to the haze in your mind.

“Ffffffuck—Joel—“ you mewl, pathetic desperate and needy as a whore, against his palm. His fingers speed up against your clit. “Oh!”

“Take it, baby. Make me fuckin’ proud.” He hisses in your ear, a groan slipping out between it. “So good. Pussy feels so good.”

“Gonna’ make me cum.” You try to speak - maybe another time you’d be embarrassed by how desperate you sound, but this isn’t that time and it’s not the time to be anything other than truthful. “Mmm—gonna cum J-joel—“

“Yeah you are.” He grunts, the rhythm of his thrusts stuttering just a little. “Squeezing my cock so goddamn tight. Fuckin’ cum on it, babygirl. Wanna’ feel you.”

The sound that pushes past his palm at just the last moment doesn’t sound like you - but you know it is. It's the sound of the kind of pleasure that you’ve never experienced before that makes your entire body feel like a rubber band that’s too tight, and you have the vaguest sense of your walls squeezing the life out of him but there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening at all - becuase your climax hits you like a goddamn freight train and its run you over hard.

You think he’s saying something - you know he is - but you can’t hear anything aside from the blood racing in your ears. Even still, you know exactly what happens next, because you’ve experienced it so many times. The way he loses himself, like he forgets every bit of control he prides himself for having and the need to empty himself inside you takes over.

He spills into you hard - and you love every second of it for the simplicity of the comedown.

It’s the kind of feeling that washes you in warmth. It’s the kind of feeling that tells you that the world is going to be okay, so long as you’ve got him and he’s got you. He groans and his hands come out to brace against the wall infront of you to hold himself up as he shoots hot jets of cum deep inside your cunt - and you can’t remember the last time you’d heard him breathe this hard. Though, truth be told, you can’t remember the last time you heard yourself breathe this hard, either.

Your mouth feels dry, your mind feels hazy, and your legs feel weak - and as he leans over you, he can surely tell all three - but he doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he drags his mouth over your ear with an inhale.

“Mmhmm.” He grumbles as he presses a kiss to your jaw. “Look what you made me to do ya.” Your cheek gets the same treatment, and a breath later as he turns your head slightly, your lips do too. “Gonna’ have my cum leakin’ out of ya all the way back to camp.”

The sound you make doesn’t even seem human, but it’s muffled before it even comes - because he’s kissing you. And it isn’t a hard kiss like you’d expect - it’s slow and steady, and you know he’s doing it in a way to say sorry, as if he realizes he might’ve gone a little too far.

You smile into it, and he does too.

“You really are insane.” You whisper as he pulls back slightly. “My cervix gonna’ need a week vacation after that.”

“M’not a good man, darlin'. If I was, I’d say sorry for that.” He whispers with a small kiss against your lips. “But I ain’t. So, I’ll just tell you I’ll take care of you later as much as you like. That good enough for now?”

There’s only one answer for you. Only one that’s ever been the answer with him.

“Always.” There is a beat of silence, and you smile in the dark. “I love you.”

He pulls out of you, finally, leaving the part of himself behind that tells you how much he loves you too without verbalizing it. Soon as he fixes his jeans, he helps you fix yours.

“And I love you.” He whispers, calloused palm finding your own. “Let’s get outta’ here. The sooner we’re back, the better.”

And that, you can’t agree more with.

OMFG 😭😭

Like if you would forgive wormie 😔💔

JAILBREAK. — SUGURU GETO. ☆

synopsis. you hate your job as a part time correctional officer. things change once you have to “babysit” one of the dangerous criminals of the a-block floor, suguru geto. but girl, maybe sleeping with an egotistical cocky ass inmate might have been your biggest mistake yet.

wc. 5.5k

warnings. modern au, fem!reader, pwp, inmate geto, corruption kink, degradation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, geto has a tongue piercing, hair pulling, praise, overstim, reader’s kinda delulu

an. thank uuu @osaemu for beta readin someee!! inmate geto is my new hyperfixation omge

it was as if each shift became longer and longer, your daily occupation, nothing special, nothing fancy, just a correctional officer at some high maintenance prison near the city.

the stench of musk and sweat wafted around you, such a reoccurrence that it was practically normal. it was around midnight, as how most of your shifts were, and as you trod towards the secluded darkened space for only the inmates dangerous to themselves and others, you intake a breath before swiping your key near your hip, preparing to unlock the glass-like metal steel door.

“oh,” you close the door behind you, and that familiar deep voice does something to you.

what…?

you don’t know, but it had such bass in it, you turned to face the inmate, no one other than suguru geto. “…yo,” he mocks, giving you a sly head nod, his eyes scan up and down your body, your uniform and then your own meets his pursed lips. somehow, he managed to find a cigarette. again. “hmpf. they got the newbie watchin' me again? you do know that gun on your hip isn’t a toy, right?”

your eyebrows twitch, and your facial expressions formed into a deadpan as you walked towards him with his daily meal in hand. “yeah and i’m not afraid to use it on you if necessary.”

“ooh. rookie’s got jokes, that’s cute.” he grins.

you murmured, and he only smiles, he knows you didn’t mean that, he pissed you off, even if he wasn’t saying anything exactly. pulling out your staff notepad checklist of where you usually kept track of all the inmates attendance and meals, you uttered, “but anyways…” you blowed, “no one fed you today, suguru. you must be starving.”

“yeah, 'm starvin’ ‘n more ways than you can imagine, princess,” geto hums, and you suddenly freeze once the inmate stands up firm and tall. he’s just so damn big—broad wide shoulders, long slight shaggy dark toned hair, and with a split-second gaze, you look near geto’s orange jumpsuit. the bulge, yeah you spotted that immediately, but his tattoos…

his fucking tattoos.

“can you at least try to behave for a few minutes.” you sighed, and he's already getting on your last nerve. he could tell too…and damn was he was just getting nothing but pure amusement from your sheer irritation.

“eh, depends,” he speaks in a low gruff, his attention was on you and only you, raising his darkened thin arched brows before his lips converge into a witty smirk. “ya gonna feed me my food, babe? oh, you should know. poor inmate like me can’t feed myself when i’m all,” and he pauses while speaking, placing his hands in his lap — giving his wrists a slight shimmy and you hear the metal dance against his skin. “…handcuffed.”

it took everything within you to not smack this arrogant suave bastard, geto flirted with you whatever chance he got, with no shame either. you’re a pretty girl, well mannered, yet never took anyone’s shit, he liked that about you.

your job wasn’t to be taken lightly, it could be considered scary at times with the various inmates you have to deal on a day to day basis, but simply, you were just a girl with an attitude. but he wasn’t fond of brats, especially brats like you.

“…fine,” you mumbled, making your way towards him. he sat on the steel uncomfortable bed that was as usual, never made. geto practically lived in solitary confinement, they don’t call him the suguru geto for a reason. his name was known amongst many, he was feared worldwide. geto wasn’t exactly a good guy, far from it actually.

he’s a criminal and his record was… definitely spine chilling to say the least. “don’t try anything, just open your mouth.”

“hm, alright then.” he happily complies, his demeanor changes just a bit, and he’s more playful. geto opens his mouth just slightly and you spot tiny dimples form near the corners of his lips, and you gradually stick the spoon into his mouth, feeding him whatever food was made for the inmates of the night.

baked mash potatoes, geto stated it was one of his favorites and you just so happened to remember. a smile forms on his lips as you feed him. your eyes darted towards him, and now he’s just staring intimately at you.

that smirk that forever rested against his pink thinly parted lips.

“m-mhm.” he grunts, and your eyes widen just a bit, he was messing with you, and you don’t even realize geto’s got his hand gripped on your waist. stroking a thumb against your belt, you felt the feeling of him rubbing all against the firearm that was strapped tightly on you.

before you could smack his hand, geto swiftly brings you on top of his lap, stealing out a gasp from you at how quick he was with his movements. the silver spoon sticks out his mouth before you take it out, only to return him with an irritated glare.

“what do you think you’re doing?” you uttered, growing quite embarrassed yet trying to maintain a level-head.

“told ya,” he grumbles, swiping a tongue against the excess mash potatoes that remained near his lips. “i’m hungry, babe. that was good, but i’m not satisfied. i need more.”

“inmates in solitary confinement aren’t allowed to have seco—”

“pretty girl, you know what i’m talkin’ about,” geto chuckles, and you shiver a bit from feeling the soft pads of his thumb brush against the belt of your waist again. you were in uniform but this entire position was so dirty. not to mention, it’s not like this place of the prison was exactly secluded. it was, but there was bound to be people were walking by. “i’ve been seein’ the way you stare at me.”

he was just infuriating, but you didn’t know how to reply so…you didn’t. you just sat there on the inmate’s lap, with a quite dumb expression and he’s just eating it up. “geto—”

“it’s just you ‘n me, girl,” he slyly whispers, and his voice drops just a bit as he stops you from speaking. his touch against your waist just gave you more and more goosebumps. all the way up until you felt it. geto infamous boner that hid beneath his jumpsuit. he’s been incarcerated for at least three years now, in and out. he was for sure horny. you could just tell from his seductive gaze. “don’t gotta be shy. was waiting for you to show up if ‘m being honest. you’re not like the rest, y’know?”

that’s when you gasp, realizing his handcuffs were off — he must have took the key from your pocket, because he was just feeling you up now. you let off a surprised noise once you felt geto starting to make you grind against his lap, feeling his hefty bulge.

“sugu-” you mumbled, and he’s just staring at you with a sly grin pressing onto his lips, only before he leans directly up close to your neck, giving a part near your collarbone a soft deep suck.

you whine from feeling the near sharp edges of his teeth lightly dig into your skin, playfully.

“mhm, pretty thing like you isn’t fit to be workin’ here. cutesy little prison guard,” he sung, his warm breath wafts against your skin, “crushin’ on your inmates is real unprofessional, ya know. you could get fired.”

he was right, you could get fired. and perhaps he wasn’t lying about the second part too—you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t find suguru geto the slightest bit of attractive. because he was, he and you both knew it.

“don’t be stupid. i’m not crushing on you,” you denied, yet embarrassingly enough, your eyes widen at feeling geto air your words — his thick stubby fingers, two of them specifically runs down between your legs and you gasp again. “are you…crazy? there could be cameras in here.”

“so.”

“so? you’re trying to get me fired?” you raised your eyebrows, sitting up from his lap, and he’s playing with you entirely. stroking a rough scarred hand down your back. if it was any other inmate, you’d barely give them a second glance.

geto gives you direct eye contact, and he looks so handsome and lean back, but his messy long black strands of bangs nearly covers his eyes, making him appear to be ten times more feared.

“maybe,” then he chuckles. “it’s okay, if it makes ya feel any better. i fantasized about you at least once or twice while being secluded from the other inmates in this hellhole. i prefer you over the other annoying officers who’re always givin’ me shit.”

you were about to speak but suddenly you couldn’t—you realized how close you were to geto, propped up on his lap, propped up on his bulge. were you really throbbing right now? oh you definitely were.

pulsing, itching, aching.

“soooo, when was the last time you got laid?”

this guy.

“excuse me?” you stammer, entirely being taken aback. such smug fell off his tone, he cocked his head a certain way to let you know he was being genuine. in his own way, of course.

geto’s always been one to flirt with you whenever it was your shift to supervise him. his comments were always so bold. he’d purposely pitch his tone a bit low whenever he spoke to you, no one else. perhaps it was the incarcerated felon crushing on you.

“you heard me,” he mutters, giving you a sly glance. he ghosts a few fingers against your waist. you still don’t know why you’re happily sitting on his lap, but you were comfortable to say the least. “with your long hours i pretty much figure you don’t even have time to finger yourself, let alone get laid. poor baby.”

“…just shut up.” you chastised, his soothing warm words, the way he delivered those last two words as a form of mockery. it made you throb, you pinched yourself, feeling yourself grow out to be hot. 

“make me, girl.” he faked a pout on his lips, almost as if his speech was purposely dumbing you down, solely from the tone. geto teasingly cocks his head towards the right and a teeny smile stretched against his lips. 

and you did. 

he was just poking fun at you—you loathed it, the tension between you and geto, his expressions were relaxed and smug like you won’t do anything. 

so, what did you do? 

you silenced him…with a kiss. 

he’s taken aback, you’re taken aback, you don’t know what came over you but you just couldn’t stand him talking. 

his sly grin, you desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. geto leans back against his bunk. his breath gets caught in his throat with the way you initiated the lustful kiss, parting your mouth open just a bit. 

you can feel geto reaching for the firearm near your hip but with quick reflexes you smack his hand, and he chuckles, pulling you closer towards him. 

he tasted sweet, with a tang of spice. leaning his head forward, he felt your warm breath shudder against him which makes him let off a low grunt once he feels you start to rock against his lap.

geto didn’t expect for you to trail a finger down his jumpsuit. the soft nearly wrinkled fabric, unbuttoning it and he shudders at how you’re all frisky and bold. 

“easy now officer,” he whispers before pulling away, lips pink and glistening with a bit of spit. his voice was a mere rasp and it made you throb. “when i said make me, that’s not what i meant,” and then he smiles, tugging on your work pants. “but you’re something else. take off those pants, i’ve been meaning to show you something.”

geto wanted to show you his tongue, specifically his tongue piercing. not necessarily show you but make you feel it. 

when you kissed him, you felt it tickle against you. the tasteless titanium rubbing against your tongue. it left you all hot and bothered. 

he had you currently laid flat on your back, an entire needy mess, despite it only being a few minutes. how embarrassing…

it was just the way he curled his tongue, flicking it against your pussy, he’s sloppy. two big hands squeeze and grip against your inner thighs, long strands prickling against your legs as he swirled his tongue against your slit. 

“f-fuck,” you’d gasp out, tilting your neck down to stare at geto. he’s already returning your eyes with a coltish glance, puckering his lips briefly to create kissed everywhere between your legs. your hands rummaged through his long silk hair. giving it a firm tug, that earns a low grunt from geto that makes you pulse even more. “tickles, suguru.”

“does it?” he purrs in a cheeky tone, slowly flicking his tongue against your clit—you jounce, a gasp gets caught in your throat at the way the piercing shifts against your folds. the slight coldness of it makes your thighs ache for more “mhm. can’t get enough.”

you pant, tugging and gripping roughly on his hair, geto’s nose deep, his tongue was so greedy. it was just the way he grazed and moved his tongue against your labia. your two sweet flaps, you grew more whiny by the second. 

“s-suguru,” you’d squeak, biting down on your lip. you knew how wrong this was, so why did it turn you on even more? “think…think ‘m getting close.”

“yeah yeah, keep your legs open.” he cuts you off, and you stare down at him. he’s so nasty with his tongue, taking a brief second to spit right on your cunt, dragging a thumb between your slit. “do you get wet like this for all your other inmates?”

you stared down at him, feeling yourself grow more and more aroused by the second—your response was just giving him a subtle head shake. “no, just you.”

“just me?” he repeats, lowering his voice and it’s so attractive. “maybe you really are crushin’ on me.”

“shut up..” you hissed. your breathing started to become more and more erratic, your ears rang and you pulsed from how close you were starting to approach towards your orgasm. 

geto’s entire chin was polished with your sweet slick—covered in nothing but all of it. such a messy eater, each time you tug on his long strands of hair. his husky pitched groans continued to make you pulse.

his piercing slowly lapped against your cunt, and you gasped at the feeling of him inserting a finger inside slowly. 

“ooh, ‘s close isn’t it?” he teases, peppering kisses near your thighs now, nibbling on it playfully with his teeth. “you gonna make a mess for me? slutty prison guard?” 

“y-yes.” you squirmed, your hands idly dragging him closer against your pussy. he chuckles, his technique snatching your breath away quite literally. “suguru… gonna come. wanna cum.”

he lays his tongue flat, lapping and lapping against your clit, giving it a long sweet suck to where his mouth starts watering from the taste and you moan. “ask nicer. where’s your manners huh?”

“p-please,” you whined, growing frustrated, so pent up—your walls clenched around the two fingers he now had buried deep into your cunt. you whimper from the mere stimulation, the way he toys with your g-spot with his lengthy slender fingers had you throbbing pathetically. “let me cum please, s-suguru.”

“oh but i don’t know,” the inmate teases, using his free hand to pry open your thighs a bit more. the cute pout that spread across your lips at his words was so adorable, “aw poor baby,” he hums, playfully blowing against your pussy to watch you writhe in pleasure and utter desperation. “you’re so cute when you’re desperate.”

“suguru, please, please..” you whimpered, not even caring how you sounded. your sweet voice reverberated against the walls of the secluded kept room, own words coiling at your throat. 

he smiles. “how about this,” and for a terse moment…he stares right at you. with his tongue going over his lips, savoring your taste. “i let you cum, you promise to get me out of here.”

….

help him break out? 

all this so you could orgasm….

you swallowed, chest heaving and your legs felt nearly nonexistent. geto looked serious though, brushing a thumb against your sloppy clit. he awaited your answer and you were deep in pondering thought.

you’d for sure get fired, then again you did hate your job. 

the fact that you were even contemplating letting an inmate break out just to cum. you just wanted a release so bad, the way his tongue lapped against your pussy, the smooth texture of it flicking back and forth to where your toes curl. you wanted more, and maybe it was a bit concerning that you started to not even care about your profession anymore. 

“promise..”

“oh..?” he slyly remarks, for sure you were gonna at least deny or call him crazy, but a straight answer. he was amused—and the needy look on his face was all he needed to see. “hm, it’s a deal then. go ahead ‘n cum, pretty girl.”

your back arched in ecstasy, he’s holding onto your hips departing his fingers from inside you, and just his tongue’s doing the main finish. you shuddered as you felt yourself vibrate and twitch. the build up had you clenching around nothing but air. “f-fuck…” 

scorching, your body radiated and carried so much heat around it, your eyes started to roll and roll towards the very depths of your head. once you came, you slump back against the rickety mattress, one hand still firmly maintaining its grip on geto’s hair. 

“there there, ‘s okay,” he slyly purrs, making sure to clean you with his tongue. for a split second his eyes close, and geto brings a few kisses against your folds before sitting up to stare down at you. “c’mere.”

you sit up, giving geto a cute needful glance, you craved more and he knew that. you leaned in to kiss him, and he returns it with such filthy passion. geto’s handsy, his slick-smeared lips ghost against yours before he deepens it. a groan gets caught in his throat, and you whine once you feel him lay you down on your back.

he leans up against you and eagerly, you give the orange fabric pants of his jumpsuit a cute tug, a sign for him to take it off. 

“such an impatient little thing,” he murmurs right into your mouth. you whined, wanting him to keep kissing you but he keeps breaking away purposely, watching your lips quiver in desire. “how bad do you want me?”

“s-suguru.” you pouted, your hand finding its way towards his bulge. the strain in his pants, all because of you. 

“don’t ‘suguru’ me,” he rasps in a mocking tone, his body pressed against yours. and only then did you realize the size difference, how buff and well toned geto was. he was an inmate after all, he always had a consistent workout schedule. geto’s dark eyes stare into yours before he brushes a thumb against your glossed lips. “talk to me nice in that pretty voice of yours. you want me? say it then.”

the disappointed pout you had displayed on your lips remained there as you spoke, only to hear how whiney and desperate you were. 

“i want you suguru, please.” you sigh. 

“girl…you’re so unprofessional,” he snickers, a swift snicker leaves from his lips before you hear him shuffle in his suit. pulling down his matched set pants, he tugs near the edge and it goes down. “feel how hard you make me, officer.”

and you let out a soft gasp. 

geto lightly grabs you by the neck, and you let off a needy moan once he starts to rub your face against his boxers. the very imprint of his bulge. “all your fault. got me throbbin’ for you...”

“suguru,” you whined, a small pout spreading on your lips each second he continued to tease you. “suguru, s-stop teasing me.”

“just jokin’,” you plop down on your chest, the moment he lightly shoves you forward against the plush-cushioned bed frame. it creaked from the movements, quite rickety. “oh wow,” he utters in a low voice — quickly averting his eyes towards your work pants, briefly pulling them down to come full-view of your ass. “do correctional officers just…not wear panties or…?”

you let off a moan, feeling him skim a few fingers against your ass, holding back a noise once he presses the leaky fat tip of his cock against your throbbing entrance. 

“i…i forgot.” you whined, mouth watering — you wanted more than anything for him to be inside already. “i was rushing.”

“uh huh,” geto rolls his eyes, and you stared directly at him. the plump fat head of his swiped against your wet folds, a few taps and you were about to go crazy. “ooh. look at you trying to rush me.” 

he was such a tease, you could hear the playfulness in his tone. as geto hovered over you, he took a few moments before slowly easing his way inside you. 

his jaw clenches, and it’s sexy…

the way his muscles would tense all because of you. you were panting, legs just dumbly sprawled out. maybe it was unprofessional, participating in sexual activities with an inmate—yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. all the built up tension surrounding between the two of you. perhaps it was bound to happen. 

“fuck, ‘s warm..” he grunts, and he’s just barely halfway in. you chewed near the inside of your lip, nails clawing down his buff arms and he starts to pant himself. geto was huge. emphasis on huge. 

his happy trail was mesmerizing to look at, the way he had slightly black curly hair coating near the lower half of himself. it was well trimmed, yet much visible to see. the more he gently makes his way inside your cunt, you felt every mean inch. the curve geto had—it was hefty, you felt yourself starting to drool. 

a single vein throbbed, and you felt it. geto bites his tongue marginally. and once he’s fully in, he gives you a coy expression. 

“may i move, officer?” he snickers. 

“p-please.” you whimpered. 

“okay.” he hums, and the bass to his voice was just enough to get you wet. far wetter than you already were. such smoothness dripped from it, it was a deep pitch that always made your heart flutter and sink. 

once he starts up just a single thrust, your body jolts back and you gasp—finding your arms to suddenly grab onto him. 

geto chuckles. “dramatic thing, aren’t you.” you moaned, nails continuing to drag down how skin as you’re laid flat against your back. the angle was so deep and thorough, each hit against your pussy had your kind spasming. in an entire frenzy of you will. 

he leans in to pepper kisses all over your face, strands of his hair that was out tickled against your skin. by this point, he’s buried deep. your head goes back a bit and…oh, that same curve that he had, it continuously made an appearance. 

geto was buried between your legs, hefty sack just thwacking against you. your legs were perfectly bent, shoulder width apart. “f-fuck,” you’d stammer, suddenly clamping all around him. it took a few deep vigorous thrusts, but at this point he’s got your pussy memorizing his lengths size. geto spreads his knees for a more thorough base, his movements were so sloppy you could barely think straight. let alone process anything. “suguru, ‘s right there.”

“right there what?” he teases, leaning in to nibble near the bottom of your lip. the thin fabric of his jumpsuit brushes against your skin—you were just a mess. pulse after pulse, you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was short circuiting. “i can’t hear ya when you mumble, baby.”

“fucking-” you spat, and he chuckles once you’re cut off with a deep kiss. geto vary’s his stance against you, and slides his tongue all throughout your mouth. it’s a rough and passionate kiss—so much so to where, he has you catching his breath. once you pull away, you moan, being brought back to reality from his ruthless smacks he’s making with his dick. “keep…keep hitting me there.”

he hums, giving your bottom lip a slow playful bite again, still ramming his hips against you at such a filthy pace. “is that an order?”

he was so annoying, that two second glance he’d give you—a smirk pressing against his lips, he definitely knew how to get under your skin. “please,” you corrected yourself, nails still running down his back. it pierced against his skin, earning a low husky grunt from him. “keep hitting me in that s-spot, suguru.”

“since ya asked so nicely,” he purrs, sneaking another kiss. this time near the very corner of your mouth. the taste was just glacé, sweet and all. simply divine.

you moaned into his mouth, and as his body weight pressed against yours — you shivered. he’s such a tease, geto starts to lightly ghost your cell keys against your bare tummy. your back arched immediately, the coldness of it just grazing against your skin. “you’re so sensitive.”

his soft, teasing words rang throughout your ears, and as you clung onto him—you felt yourself coming closer and closer. he gripped onto your legs, slightly raising them upward and you moan from the deep deep angled. “o-oh my god.” 

geto’s shallow mean strokes had your eyes rolling all the way back….way back to the very depths of your skull. if you weren’t drooling then, you certainly were now.

the moment he sees you pouting from how he cockily starts to slow down—geto pushes a bit more deeper, grinning from your legs now locking around his waist. 

moments later though, you both freeze at hearing the sound of footsteps approaching near the solitary steel door. 

right when you about to orgasm, you both stare at each other — and it’s another officer. you could tell by the loud echo of the keys dangling against their hips. 

“officer, you alright? been in there a while. we’re finishing up roll call then it’s time for the inmates to sleep.”

shit. 

you couldn’t stay quiet, that’d be suspicious, and you knew you had to say something. geto chuckles, still buried balls deep inside of you, leaning in to give your neck a long suck. your hands ran through his hair and you bit your lip, trying to muster up what to say. 

“your subordinate’s talking to you,” geto teases, and you gasp from how he suddenly pistons his hips, such sloppy ruthless thrusts your breath was merely taken away. “don’t be a rude girl.”

“s-shut up,” you whined, putting a hand in his face and he playfully kisses it. you stop a moan from escaping your lips before you project your voice lightly. “uh, yeah. everything’s good. inmate suguru geto’s asleep. i’m just—just finishing up then i’ll take care of his dishes.”

“alright,” the lower rank replies, and your legs start to shake and jostle against geto. he’s staring at you, just wanting for you to slip up. a few awkward seconds pass before the officer continues to speak. “are we still on for tonight?”

you gulped, and geto raises his brows before whispering into your neck. “…oh, tonight, yeah?”

by all means, you felt so embarrassed, heat rises up to your cheeks as if your entire body wasn’t already burning up from his weight pressing down against you.

you ended up cumming mid-convo, and had to cover your mouth to not be so noisy. you clenched all around geto, just a twitching and spasming mess. 

“y-yeah, we are.”

“good, good,” he speaks through the other end of the closed steel door. poor officer, he sounds so ecstatic, a bit of confidence running through his tone. “i’ll see you then, pumpkin.”

geto blurted out laughing and you had to slap a hand against his mouth. the moment the coast is clear and he walks away, you glare and he simpers. 

“pumpkin,” he repeats, mimicking your co-workers accent. “i didn’t know you had plans. have me looking like a fool, hmpf.”

“my private life isn’t your busin—” and you get cut off once geto abruptly sits you upright, to where you’re just straddling him. you moan, your cunt still being stuffed full of his thick inches — and for a moment, you felt his vein prod against you. 

geto groans, seeing how your pupils were all dilated from your recent release. “yeahhh, it isn’t,” he says, grabbing ahold of your waist. you’re rocking back and forth and he’s so thick that you’re just completely cockdrunk and dizzy. “but ‘m having too much fun with you.”

you gasp once you feel the back of geto’s hand roughly smack your ass again, and again, and again. he loves the recoil — you hiss from the sting as your hips roll and maneuver against his lap. “you’re such a dirty girl. i don’t want you to go on that date. stay with me.”

“y-you can’t be serious.” you muttered, arms thrown over his neck. and for a brief moment, it was almost as if you heard a faint of jealously lingering on his tone. it made you throb, this high and mighty notorious inmate feeling this way…for a nobody like you. 

“dead serious, baby,” he utters, and you can sense geto’s close too from the way his jaw tightens. his head tilts back and he bites down on his lip. “that way i won’t be less lonely. talking to the wall ‘n everything.”

oh right, he was in solitary confinement. purposely secluded from the other guards and inmates. geto was considered a danger, yet here you were — stupidly bouncing on his dick. 

“but ‘m not so lonely now that you’re here,” he coos against your ear, and you whimper once he drags a hand down between your legs. he gives your pussy a few mean spanks and you whimpered. “fuck, keep moaning in my ear like that ‘n i’m gonna give you so much of my cum.”

“i need it.” you pleaded, tears swelling up in your eyes, you genuinely didn’t know what got over you — your body was so achy, each time he traced his fingers down your body, you whined. you didn’t care anymore, you just wanted to be filled. 

geto groans, and his hefty base kept smacking back against you, your hips jerked as you tightly held onto him, marking up the very inner part of his neck with soft bite marks. 

“f-fine,” he grumbles, and his voice gets a bit high, he’s growing out to be sensitive from the pressure building up. he even gets a tad bit whiney himself. the constant skin smacking makes him kiss his teeth, and his head throws back yet again—long pretty hair flowing against his shoulders. “god, you’re so fuckin’ nasty. riding me this g-good.”

you even start to tug on his hair, and that makes him moan even more. not like he minded. it turned him on, needless to say. 

once geto came, it was thick, so much that it instantly spilled out of your cunt. you paused your hips, and he silenced his groans by grunting against your neck. he’s shaking just as much as you were — and it came out in velvety ropes, spurting and spurting. 

“take it all,” he hisses, gripping onto your waist tightly. you whimper, grinding against him just for a few seconds and he’s for once speechless. “damn, those hips of yours is so deadly, fuck.”

you whined, sitting up and he pulls out of you, watching his own cum spill and drip out. geto brings a thumb towards your clit to smear it all over your pussy, an image that was a something he’d never erase from his mind. 

you panted, hitting your back against his bunk while geto leans in to kiss you deeply. you kissed back, dragging your tongue against his, feeling his warm breath fan against yours before he pulls away with a weary expression. 

“good girl,” he murmurs, peppering a soft kiss near the side of your mouth. “remember my promise?” 

“yeah.” you exhale, trying to catch your breath. your legs felt like jello — head clouded and entirely empty, not a single thought in your mind. 

he smiles. “good. because i forgot to tell ya something else,” and you stare at him, a soft confused head tilt, watching him re-adjust his jumpsuit, pulling his boxers and pants part up. “have fun being in solitary by yourself.”

“wait w-what?” you stammer, and reaches the door, your own keys in hand — and you couldn’t have felt anymore stupid. geto chuckles, with a sly shrug. “princess, you were so gullible. letting me take your keys,” and he unlocks the huge latch before grinning. “but hey, don’t feel too bad. you have a date tonight.”

you glare, overwhelmed with emotions before spitting out a, “fuck you.”

“you literally just did,” he wriggles his eyebrows. “don’t worry. i’ll come back for you,” and then he opens the steel door.

yet before slamming it, he gives you a wink and that same sly grin. “nah i’m just kidding, no i won’t. sorry.”

finding solace 🌼

The world without acne would of been the best a bunch of ppl wouldn't have depression

mood fr

Currently having a argument with a swifite about Michael Jackson (they are saying that he is below Taylor) 💀 then after is aid ppl still listen to him like legendary late hip-hop artist like tupac and xxx then had the audacity to say no one listen to xxx 😭 finna pop off.

I will never forget that 2021 Kuroko in Wonderland Aomine and Kagami because---- 🫦💙❤️💥💦

it's wild that I draw these two better this time... is because they're in uniforms...???

holy fuck this is amazing

Ride or Die

Warnings = mentions of non-con🔞 , captivity, false hope, infantilization, use of guns, killing/murder

Pairings = Bonten x fem! reader

Summary = Meeting them was a mistake. A fatal mistake on your end. Now you're trapped in their operation.

Word count = 5.7k words

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You’re running, but you’re not fast enough. They’re probably just right behind you. You had no idea what you were going to do even if you were to escape; there was no safe house waiting for you whatsoever.

Who are they? And why are they chasing you?

Ah right— Mikey and his lackeys. 

He probably had hundreds, but none come close to Kokonoi, Sanzu, Mochi, Kakucho, Takeomi and those freak siblings, Ran & Rindou. They were practically a package, if you messed with one of them, you messed with the others.

You couldn’t remember, but it was Kakucho? Maybe he was the one that offered you a job at his company. It was a simple task really, just be there for a few days of the week, not even everyday. 

Seemed easy enough, but that was your mistake for thinking that it was just an innocent job. The job being having their cocks shoved deep inside your throat or deep inside you 24/7. Believe it or not, it felt kind of weird when you didn’t have something inside you. It was just the effect of it overtime.

Ever since the day you crossed paths with them, your life just seems to keep getting worse. From how controlling they get to how possessive they are over you, it was annoying.

You swore you could count how many times they let you out of the office with just one hand, and it was only three times. One was for clothes shopping and even then they bought a huge amount of clothes for you at once to avoid any unnecessary shopping trips. 

You still felt that lingering feeling of their touches, even if it happened long ago. The way their hands just seemed to invade any non-existent boundaries just seemed to make you even more uncomfortable than you already were. 

You remembered how you begged to let them let you put your clothes on by yourself. It was like they were convinced you couldn’t be trusted to do simple tasks, it was like they were convinced you were a child of some sort. 

“Stop it, I can do it myself. Just let me go in the changing room, it’s not like I have any chance to escape,” you complain to Ran, even though you knew the argument was only going to come in from one ear and exit the other ear.

“Hmm? I’m just tryna help, just let me help you,” he says with an iron grip on the door of the changing room, not allowing you to close it.

And after that, the memory just blurs… but you just can’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling.

That time was also the time they implemented an “unwritten” rule of giving you 0 privacy. Whether it’d be showering, changing clothes, or even sleeping… one of them always had to be beside you, breathing down your neck as you did simple activities.

It didn’t happen all the time, but it happened most of the time. They did it mostly to annoy you if anything, they knew how you hated having no time for yourself, but technically, everyone hates it.

The second time was to have you trick their client into believing that they aren’t being threatened. The same way they had tricked you into believing that they were trust-worthy.

“S-sir please, they aren’t dangerous at all!” the lies spill from your mouth.

You had felt bad for the man; actually you felt bad for anyone who had the bad fortune of getting anywhere near Bonten. 

“You’re clearly just as messed up as all the others! How could a sweet woman like you fall for their type of behaviour!” he spat out, each word hitting you like a sharp blade to the chest.

You could see the disappointment in his eyes. You felt like a daughter who just got scolded for failing the recent math test. Speaking of tests, the third and last time was… a test as well.

In some sick way, they all had collectively agreed to give you that false hope. The false hope of believing that you were able to be free. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday. The door was wide-open, well not really. But that day, there weren’t any guards stationed near the entrance, and none of them were seen. You should’ve known. After all those weeks and months of carefully watching you, why would you be left alone all of a sudden?

You remembered the series of events. It started when you stood in the common room, looking through the shelves on the walls, the furniture, and the decor. They barely bothered to give you any sort of entertainment. They hadn’t let you have a phone, tablet, nor a laptop. Actually, they didn’t let you have anything.

The boredom drove you crazy; it was pure torture. That was when you started fidgeting with the door… and you realised. 

The door wasn’t locked… it was unlocked. 

You looked around at the surroundings, a lump starting to form in your throat. The usual watchful eyes, the always-present guards were all gone, as if they’ve dissipated into thin air. The hallway stretched before you, eerily silent, untouched by the suffocating presence that had come with your every move for months.

For the first time, there was no one. No lingering figures in the corners, no distant murmurs of conversation, no sharp clicks of your dress shoes against the polished floors. Just stillness.

And that was when the thought crept in, fragile and dangerous.

‘I could be free.’

The possibility lodged itself in your chest, a spark of hope so reckless it almost hurt. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your body was torn between instinct and disbelief. It had to be a trick. It had to be.

But what if it wasn’t?

What if— by some impossible twist of fate— they had finally let their guard down?

But, no, of course they didn’t. They had given you that chance just to mess with you. 

You remembered the aftermath of the ‘escape’. You remembered how they held you down and raped you. They claimed that it was a necessary lesson for you.

You remembered how you whimpered, begged, and screamed for them. The memory still rung in your head like a death knell. 

And, even after that, you dared to try and escape again. That’s what you’re doing now. You’ve been trapped long enough to know that they’ve probably added drastic measures just in case you got too far but you highly doubted it was that bad.

The premises was a mix of an apartment and a work building. Half of it was dedicated to tending to business and the other half was for living in. And you had the oh so unfortunate experience of living in it.

Well, whatever, you’re here now. 

People say “run like a girl” means to run for your life. And you agree with that. The way you’re running right now was like a crazed lunatic on drugs. Your lungs were on fire. Your legs were on fire. Everything was on fire. You disagreed with alcohol, but the way it burned your tongue helped burn away the pain.

You weren’t planning to escape right now, but you were planning to escape. The reason you despised school and having a nine-to-five job is because of how suffocating it felt. This is how you feel now and forever with them.

As mentioned before, you’ve tried to run so, so many times— yet they keep capturing you and bringing you back.

They were like annoying mosquitos who chased you around for blood, never able to leave you alone and similarly, hunting you down for blood. The only difference being their motive.

You lost track of time ever since you started running. Last time you checked it was 7.50 AM in the morning and you just finished breakfast with the same group of people who kept you captive.

It was like hell.

“Darling, why haven’t you eaten anything…? We are soooo worried about you,” Sanzu joked, earning a chuckle from all the other members. 

“You should eat. We spent good money on the food.” firmly stated by Mikey. He was never like the others. He always had that intense, serious, terrifying aura surrounding him at all times— but don’t get it twisted, he was just as messed up.

“Fuck you.” you thought to yourself, but, oh, how badly you wanted to say it to them. 

All you had— no, can— do right now was just to focus on running. You had managed to run all the way onto the main road. You threw your arms up high in the air around in hopes of gaining any driver’s attention, and luckily you did.

As soon as the door to the red pickup truck opened, you quickly blurted out: “Please, take me far, far away from here.”

“Do what the lady says fool, DRIVE.” a lady from the back suddenly appeared out of nowhere and said. She had beautiful, shiny, blonde hair travelling down her back and her lips were the perfect shade of pink… okay get yourself straight now.

“Alright! Calm it down a notch would’cha?” he says, each word being spit out. 

Breathlessly and shockingly, you managed to mutter a small “Thank you so much…”.

“No worries! What’s it all about anyway? Runnin’ from yer parents?” she asks.

“No… no… nothing of that sort. I’m… just running from an…ooh…! Wait a second… let me catch my breath…” you gasp.

“It’s alright, just take your time,” the man in the driver seat replies.

Your gaze drops down, scanning your legs. The place was isolated, it was practically in the middle of nowhere, but not really… rather, it was in the middle of the woods. A few seconds of silence passed by to let yourself collect your thoughts and scene of events.

Wait… what even happened?

What date is today anyway?

All you remembered was seeing a job offer at… Bonten… building? There was a job interview for you on July 28th, 2017. You accepted it… and… wait what happened? 

—

Around 6 months ago~

Your heels clicked sharply against the polished marble floor, each step measured exactly the same distance from one another and deliberate as you approached the receptionist’s desk. Yes, it might’ve been a bit too extra but you might as well since you’ve already gone through and through with all the other preparations.

Today, you had actually left behind your usual overstuffed purse to minimize the risk of dropping your bag and letting all the contents fall out and also for a lesser chance of drawing unwanted attention since having an extremely full bag did somewhat draw attention to you in an expected yet unexpected way.

You were dressed in a fitted black blazer to what people would say “over-ironed” white, buttoned shirt. Every piece of your outfit was meticulously chosen to show that you were there for business. A tight pencil skirt hugged your form, perfectly cinched at the waist by a thin belt and even your hair and makeup were flawless, every detail put together for the sake of looking professional. 

Click. Click. Click.

“Good evening ma’am, do you know where to meet uhmm… Kakucho Hitto?” you ask her.

Her eyes darken before she looks up at you. Her eyes seemed dull, as if there were no emotions behind her. Well, now you understand why. 

You should’ve noticed how her demeanor was back then. You could’ve chalked it up to just a “bad day”, but they way she acted was abnormal. 

“Yes, he— I mean Boss Kakucho is on floor 10, third room to the right.” she firmly states.

“Thank you…” you gratefully say to her. 

Ding!

The elevator doors slide open smoothly with a quiet chime following it, and you walk in. Oh, there’s also another person. He had… red and white eyes? It was rare enough to see someone with heterochromia let alone see someone with red eyes and/or white eyes only.

"She said the third room to the right… right?" you mutter to yourself, forgetting about the man beside you in the elevator.

A low chuckle comes from him, but barely hear-able from the low hum of the elevator. But you still shift your head towards him, locking gazes.

"Talking to yourself, huh?" His voice is smooth, but there’s something in his tone that makes your skin get goosebumps.

You stiffen slightly before forcing a small laugh. "Oh, yeah… Just making sure I don’t get lost."

His gaze lingers on you, dark eyes sharp and unreadable. "Third room to the right. Floor 10." A pause. "That means you're going to Kakucho's office."

You blink your eyes at him. "Uh… yeah. Do you know him?"

There’s a sudden, well not really sudden, shift in the air— a suffocating one at that, it’s subtle but inescapable. He exhales, tilting his head just enough for the overhead lights to cast a small ray of light along his sharp features. 

"Oh…" he says. "That’s me."

The elevator dings. The doors slide open. But for some reason, you don’t move.

It reveals a long and narrow hallway lined with the same identical doors everywhere. The dim lights above cast small, faint shadows along the walls. It somehow made the area feel both like an endless void and yet… claustrophobic at the same time.

“Come with me,” he states firmly, ordering you. You do follow him and to your luck, the interview went smoothly. 

That’s why you came back, no?

Now that you’re thinking about it, you weren’t lucky at all.

—

Once you’ve gathered everything in chronological order, the story comes out like a word vomit. 

“U-ugh… So it StartsWithMeGettingAJobInterviewAndIGotTheJobButTurnsOutTheWholeCompanyWasJustAHugeMafiaThingOrSomethingAndAfterThat…”

And it continues…

With every word spilling out of your mouth, the two other people in the car just look even more shocked. You swore their jaws only dropped further on the ground as the story-telling went on. 

“W-wait… so you’re running away from… them right now?” she clarifies with you. She doesn’t seem too confused about the story since, it’s just basically torture on your end. 

“YES!” you say to her, glad that she understands for the most part.

“S-should we… call the cops…?” the guy asks, looking concerned as hell.

You stare at him for a while, completely unresponsive. Then, you swallowed the lump growing in your throat. “N-no… you can’t do that. If I get caught again, it’s going to be even worse if the cops get involved.”. 

“Dude! This is crazy. I feel like it’ll get worse if the cops DON’T get involved?” the guy asks, slightly laughing at your logic. He takes his arms off the steering wheel for a while to show his shock and turns his body to you.

Your body jolts at the unexpected rise of volume. “I get it but look, I-I’m sorry… but I don’t want this to get worse!”

“Girl, you’re absolutely delusional if you don’t think we are gonna call the cops.” she says before whipping out her phone from her purse.

“Wait— no— stop!” you yell. Instinctively, you try to jump to the backseat to rip her phone from her hands.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the guy screams as your sudden shove jerks the wheel, causing the car to go into a wild, sudden swerve.

SCREEECH— SKRRRTT—

The tires shriek against the pavement, the entire vehicle violently turning left, then right, then left again— nearly spinning out of control. The force slams you against the door roughly, your heart starting to hammer against your chest as the car skids dangerously close to the separator thing in the middle.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he shouts as he tries to regain control of the car. His grip starts to tighten around the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn white from gripping the wheel.

“Ugh—! Just let us help you!” she shrieks, trying to loosen your grip on her wrist. 

“No! Y-you can’t!” you yell back at her.

“GIRLS STOP IT!” the driver screams loudly. The outsiders probably heard it too.

“Alright fine, we won’t call the cops. Well, not until we find you somewhere safe.” the girl subsides.

“Thank you…” you say, going back to your seating position and crossing your arms angrily.

The car goes quiet for a few moments, all of you sharing the awkward moment. The only sound you could hear at this point was the hum of the car engines and the honking and yelling from the outside. 

The silence was unnerving, but it was probably best that no one talked at the moment. 

That was until you let out a sigh and finally muttered a response. “Fine… you guys promise to call the cops when I get to a safe—”

Then an impact came out of nowhere. One second, the streets were quiet with just the quiet sounds of the road along with the car and suddenly, the next being a pair of headlights cut through the dark, and then—

A huge crash.

The vehicle fell sideways. Metal screeched against the cemented ground. Glass exploded, sending shards everywhere. The seatbelt went deeper into your chest, locking you in place as the car spun out of control before slamming to a stop.

For a moment, there was only the ringing in their ears. The scent of burnt rubber. The weight of shock pressing down on their ribs.

Then— footsteps. They were heavy, terrifying.

A silhouette approached through the haze of broken headlights, the soft click of a lighter from the silence. The fiery glow of a cigarette revealed a familiar emblem embroidered in black.

Bonten. It was them.

Your stomach dropped. This wasn’t just an accident, no, this was your kidnapping version two.

—

You woke up with a bag over your head. You could tell the room was empty with how any small sound was echoing since there was nothing to absorb the sound, only the walls reflecting it.

Your wrists were tied behind your back and so were your ankles. They were starting to hurt with just how tight they were around your joints. The ropes seemed to be those huge, heavy ropes that you would use on a farm animal rather than a human. There were sharp strands standing astray from the pack, sharply rubbing against your skin. It’s going to hurt, just like their usual trademark. 

You tried to jump up, but the only result was an echo of the metal chair moving. 

Then— the door locks clicked.

“Get in quicker, you dumb whore.” Rindou orders. You’re sure it was Rindou, the voice matched his and so do the words.

“Alright, alright! Just be nicer— I’m a fragile girl okay?!” a female voice yells back.

The bag is ripped off your head, and now you can see. You can see the girl from before kneeled in front of you, her hands tied behind her back as well. Shit.

“Hey!” you jump. “P-p-p-please don’t hurt her!”

Ran moves over to you, hands moving above your head… and it goes down… and again… and again… in a stroking pattern. It might’ve been lovely… if only not for the situation. Then, he leans down to your ear to whisper, “Y’know… you should’ve just obeyed our rules.”

Right. Their three “simple” rules. Don’t escape, don’t disobey orders, and don’t do anything without one of them being present.

Click.

The sound of a gun.

And it was pressed onto her temple.

“Any last words to her?” Sanzu asks, his finger on the trigger.

“W-wait! I’ll do anything!” you suddenly yell out.

“Ohohoh… you really think you can do that now…? It’s far far too late for that now, darling.” Sanzu says, sadistic eyes drilling holes into you.

Shoot. What are you supposed to do? Someone who wasn’t supposed to get involved got involved and now they’re held at gunpoint while you were bound onto a chair, unable to help them.

Your breath hitched as you struggled against the restraints, the rope starting to drill into your wrists. Panic clawed at your chest, drowning out every rational thought. She was innocent, shaking… and she squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body trembling under the cold press of Sanzu’s gun.

“Please—” you choked out, voice raw with desperation. “Please, she’s not involved! This has nothing to do with her!”

Sanzu’s lips curled into a grin, his finger teasing the trigger. “Oh, but she is now,” he sings, tilting his head. “And whose fault is that?”

You.

It’s your fault.

Your mistake.

Your punishment.

“Please,” you whisper, throat tight. “I’ll take whatever you want. Just let her go.”

Ran lets out an amused hum, his hand still lazily stroking your head like you were some pet begging for mercy. “That’s cute,” he murmurs. “But you know the rules. No disobedience. No escaping. No acting without one of us.”

He clicks his tongue, and his grip tightens in your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “And you broke every single one.”

Sanzu’s laugh is light, almost playful. “It’s a shame, really. She seems so… sweet.” He leans down, his voice dripping mock sympathy. “Go on. Say your goodbyes.”

Tears burn in your eyes. “Please…”

Your voice cracks.

Sanzu sighs. Then—

Click.

Bang.

The sound rips through the air like a whip, and for a second, time stops.

A scream lodges in your throat. Blood splatters all over. It’s warm, sticky and all over your skin, and when you force your eyes open, your stomach turns to ice.

The girl slumps forward, motionless.

Sanzu hums, spinning his gun on his finger as if he didn’t just pull the trigger. “Oops,” he chuckles. “Guess you were too late.”

Ran releases your hair, letting your head drop. The weight of the moment crushes you, suffocating, unbearable.

Then, a hand cups your cheek— gentle, almost tender. You flinch.

“Shhh,” Ran coos, tilting your face up to meet his violet eyes. “You brought this on yourself, sweetheart.”

Sanzu crouches in front of you, resting his gun under your chin, forcing you to look at him through blurry, tear-filled eyes.

“Now,” he purrs, “let’s talk about…” Sanzu moves towards the door, pressing the door handle and opening the door.

It was to reveal the other guy. The guy who was supposed to drive you to safety. But only because you demanded him to. How’d you get 2 people killed in less than a day?

Sanzu grins, stepping aside to let the man stumble in. He was barely standing. Blood dripped from several spots on his head, staining the collar of his shirt. His breaths were ragged, uneven, as if he had been beaten within an inch of his life before being dragged here like a trophy.

"Look who we found at the scene lurking around," Rindou drawls from behind him, arms crossed. "He was trying to escape but… he was not very subtle, was he?"

Your stomach churns. He wasn’t supposed to get caught. He was supposed to be long gone out of this hellhole, far away from them. And yet, here he was.

The man lifts his head, eyes meeting yours. Defeated.

Broken.

Sanzu leans against the chair you’re tied to, sighing dramatically. “Now, I am gonna let this slide. Maybe teach you a little lesson and send you back to your pretty little room.” His fingers trail along the side of your face before he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at the man. “But then you had to go and involve him too. How greedy.”

“Sanzu,” you whisper, voice barely audible. “Please.”

He pouts mockingly. “Aw, you sound so sad.” He spins the gun between his fingers before pointing it at your driver. "You already lost one. Think you can handle losing another?"

Ran chuckles, draping an arm over your shoulders. "Or maybe," he muses, "we make this interesting. How about a little… choice?"

Sanzu grins, eyes glinting with something wicked. "Yeah. That sounds fun." He crouches down next to you, tilting his head. "So, what'll it be, sweetheart? Him?" He gestures to the beaten man. "Or you?"

The room feels colder. Your pulse pounds in your ears.

There’s no right answer.

There never was.

Because you knew either way, you’d both die. It’s just they’d probably let you live longer, just to live with the guilt.

“So… how is it Y/N?” Takeomi asks, his deep raggedy voice echoing through the room.

“Shoot me.” you answer, with almost no hesitation.

“WRONG!” Sanzu yells before quickly moving the gun over to him, and pressing the trigger.

Bang.

The shot rings out, sharp and final.

Your body jerks against the restraints, a strangled noise catching in your throat as the man crumples to the floor. Blood pools beneath him, spreading like ink across the cold concrete. His chest shudders once— twice— before falling still.

Gone.

A choked sob forces its way past your lips. You did this. You led him here. You got him killed.

Sanzu exhales, almost bored, before twirling the gun and slipping it back into his holster. "Tsk, tsk. You really thought we’d let you choose?" He crouches, tilting his head with a smirk. "That’s cute."

Ran clicks his tongue, brushing a hand through his hair before crouching next to you. His fingers brush your cheek, almost affectionate. Almost. "See, sweetheart, it was never about the choice. It was about watching you break."

And you were.

Piece by piece.

Sanzu claps his hands together, standing back up. "Now that the fun’s over, let’s move on, yeah?" He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

His grin stretches wider, wicked and sharp. "You’re ours. You always were. And after this? You always will be."

Ran hums in agreement, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. "Now, be a good girl and behave, alright?"

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because you can’t escape.

Then, the door opens once again. It’s Kakucho.

“Hmm, are you guys done?” his hand still on the handle, he glances shortly at the scene inside the room. “Clean it up. Once you’re done, bring her down. Mikey called.”

Then, the door shut behind him. 

Your breath hitches. Mikey.

The name alone sends a shiver down your spine.

Sanzu clicks his tongue, rocking back on his heels before standing up. “Well, you heard him,” he sighs, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ran hums, giving your face one last slow, mocking pat before standing as well. “We should make her presentable first,” he muses, glancing at the blood smeared across your face. “Mikey won’t like her looking like a mess.”

You barely register their words. Your ears are still ringing, your body trembling as you stare at the lifeless body in front of you.

It’s over. He’s gone.

Because of you.

A hand grips your arm, yanking you forward. You stumble, legs barely holding you up as Ran steadies you with an almost gentle touch.

“Come on now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice deceptively soft. “Let’s not keep Mikey waiting.”

Sanzu only grins, eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement. “Oh, I can’t wait to see what he has planned for you.”

And as they drag you out of the room, past the blood, past the bodies.

—

Somehow, their definition of making you presentable was putting you in a super see-through, lacy lingerie. It was a shade of pastel pink, and had a beautiful motive… it’s just the situation wasn’t as pretty.

The humiliation burns hot inside you, it’s hotter than the fear.

Sanzu lets out a low whistle, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. “Damn, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You clean up nice.”

Ran smirks, tugging at the delicate lace strap on your shoulder before letting it snap back against your skin. “Mikey’s gonna love this.”

You swallow down the lump in your throat, glaring at them despite the helplessness weighing you down. Your arms are bound, your body exposed, and yet, they look at you like you’re nothing but entertainment.

“You bastards,” you seethe, voice trembling.

Sanzu only grins wider, stepping closer until the cold barrel of his gun rests under your chin again. He tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his manic gaze.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” he purrs, voice sickly sweet. “You stopped being in control the second you thought you could defy us.”

Ran sighs, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeve. “Enough playing around. Let’s go.”

Then, without warning, they grab you, forcing you forward. You stumble, the cold air prickling against your exposed skin.

You go down the halls, then down the stairs. And when the doors swing open…

Mikey is waiting.

You expect to be slapped, beaten, punched, but no. He doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he brings you out into the cold, dark night. Seeing the dark forest in front of you reminded you of the escape attempts.

His touch is rough, unforgiving. He releases you from his grip and pushes you out past the threshold. You stare out at the forest.

The forest is dark— suffocatingly so. The thick cluster of leaves letting small traces of moonlight through the dense branches. The air is damp and thick with the scent of earth, soil and death. The smell was the kind of smell that holds onto you and makes itself at home in your lungs. 

The ground beneath you is uneven. Gnarled underground roots and damp leaves creating uneven bumps all over the ground. And the twisted branches reaching out reminded you of skeleton fingers. They cast jagged shadows that dance with the faint flickers of movement, frightening you everytime.

A cold wind howls through the trees, rattling the leaves as if it’s whispering, as if the forest itself is alive. Like it’s watching, waiting. The deeper you go, the more the atmosphere changes. With every step it grows colder, heavier, pressing in around you like an invisible force. The path, if there ever was one, has long since disappeared, swallowed by tangled undergrowth and thorny brambles that snag at your skin, leaving behind thin, stinging cuts.

It’s silent. But the silence isn’t empty. It’s laced with something, something just out of reach. The kind of silence that prickles at the back of your neck, that coils in your stomach like a warning. It’s the kind of darkness that doesn’t just hide things. It feels like it’s swallowing them whole.

You could barely see anything through the darkness, but those are the things you remembered from the many times you ran through the forest. It was kind of like your second home at that point. 

Nonetheless, you were still far too shocked from before.

“W-what the hell d-d-do you want me to do…?” you ask, shivering since the sheer clothing didn’t do much in shielding you from the cold.

“Go. If you wanted to create such a huge scene, then do it. Run. We’re letting you have one last attempt.” Mikey responds coldly, completely inconsiderate of the situation you were put in before.

“W-what…?” you ask again. What the hell?

He lets out a loud, disappointing sigh before coming closer to your fallen form. “Go have one last run around the forest before we chain you up.” he pauses before crouching down to meet your eyes. “I have Sanzu, Takeomi, Kokonoi, Ran, Rindou, Mochi and Kakucho waiting out there for you. Once you’re done with your shenanigans, they’re going to bring you back.”

“H-huh…?” you stare at him in disbelief. “I-I-I-”

“You-you-you what?”

“I don’t want to…”

“Didn’t you hear me? Have one last run, go. I’m not repeating myself anymore.” he says with a finger softly stroking your cheek.

“I-I don’t want to… I want to stay with you… Mikey…” you say defeatedly.

Mikey’s eyes darken. Something shifts. The moment of forced gentleness vanishes like a wisp of smoke, replaced by something colder, sharper.

His fingers, once ghosting along your cheek, suddenly tangle in your hair—and then he yanks. Hard. Your head snaps back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as pain blooms along your scalp.

“You want to stay with me?” he echoes, voice eerily calm, but there’s a quiet rage simmering beneath it, barely restrained. His grip tightens, pulling your face inches from his. “After all that fucking running? After making us chase you down like some pathetic little stray?”

His lips curl, disgust flashing in his darkened gaze. “You really think saying that now is gonna change anything?” He tugs again. “Don’t act helpless now, sweetheart. You weren’t so eager to stay when you were trying to claw your way out of here.”

He leans in, voice dropping to a whisper, but it’s anything but gentle. It’s venomous. “Go run. Make it fun for us. Or do you want me to drag you out there myself?”

“N-no… please. I just want to stay with you… I’m sorry.” you pant, shooting pleading eyes up at him in hopes he’ll give in.

“Fine. Let’s just go back in.” he says, almost too easily. Mikey wasn’t one to be persuaded easily. 

Mikey doesn’t say anything as he yanks you forward, his grip bruising against your skin. The night air still lingers on your body, cold and sharp, but it does nothing to stop the suffocating heat crawling up your spine as you step inside. The door slams shut behind you, cutting off the outside world, the last sliver of freedom you had, and replacing it with the suffocating presence of them.

They weren’t outside. They weren’t waiting. They were here all along.

Sanzu is just sitting lazily in a chair, spinning the gun used to traumatize you between his fingers. Takeomi leans against the wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Ran and Rindou are smirking, eyes filled with condescension, like they already knew how this would play out. Mochi says nothing, his presence alone enough to make the room feel smaller. Kakucho stands at the back, watching, always watching.

You feel sick.

The weight of their stares presses down on you, suffocating, humiliating. Because Mikey never intended for you to run. No, he actually let you go. Gave you the chance to run… because he knew you wouldn’t.

Because you couldn’t.

And now, standing in front of them, exposed and weak, it finally hits you.

You never had a chance.

Not against them.

Not against him.

And now, you were right where they wanted you. They had predicted you didn’t want to do it.