heartless.
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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing8m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Jun 2, 2018
jiho's breath hitched in his chest. the girl he cared about most was fucking his best friend, who some began to think was jiho's brother since they hung out an awful lot, and they'd been seen going home together nearly every day. he laughed at how dumbly blind he was; she'd been fucking his best friend ever since the first time she'd ever been to his house; no wonder he'd hear bedsprings and moans at 12:30 in the morning every night both of them just so happened to be over. and after a while, he just stopped caring. about her, about his 'brother from another mother', about his own life. maybe he shouldn't have cared so much; for it was just a waste of his corrupt youth. ⁑ warnings! language; violence; disturbing themes; triggering topics(?)⁑
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Book #2 They said cages were made to keep things safe. Who the fuck are they kidding? Minghao knew better. His cage wasn't steel bars or some locked door. It was him. Wen Jun fucking hui.of bruising hands and possessive whispers. It was the kind of shit that got under his skin and stayed there, rotting his insides until there was nothing left but need. And that need? It was all because of him. Wen Junhui wasn't just a captor. He was a fucking disease. A sickness that slithered into Minghao's thoughts, his skin, his breath. Every damn part of him. And ohh god, he fucking hated him for it. He hated the way Jun's presence didn't just fill the space around him, it owned it. Like it was his air to breathe, his fucking atmosphere. Every time Jun touched him, it was like his skin was on fire. Every time Jun whispered that voice of his in his ear, Minghao's body fucking melted. Hated how his body reacted, hated how his pulse skipped, hated how his stomach flipped,Hated how his inside twisted. even when he wanted to shove him off. When Jun whispered in his ear, Minghao's body betrayed him. He wanted to scream, to push him away, but instead, he went still. Because it felt too fucking good. "You can scream, fight, do whatever the hell you want," Jun had said to him once, voice low, almost tender as his hands held Minghao against him like he had all the right to. "In the end, you'll still be in my bed. Under me. Begging for everything you swore you'd never want." Minghao had spit on his face. Had cursed him, told him he was a monster. But Jun? He just smirked. Like he knew something Minghao didn't. And maybe he did. Because no matter how hard Minghao fought, no matter how many times he tried to escape, he was still here. Still trapped. And that truth, that fucking reality, made him want to tear his own skin off. Escape? Nah. Not a chance. Jun never lost what was his. And Minghao? He was already fucking owned

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