(Y/N) POV:

I rush forward, not caring for the bodies to bump into and shove past in my haste to get to Habaek oppa, eyes widening. The closer I get, the more the rage builds in me, bubbling upwards and getting close to exploding.

And what disgusts me is that when I get closer I see that the two people who have their hands roving hungrily over him are the same two people who'd been hovering nearby the entire night.

I forcefully pull away the girl's hand that's roving down his chest, nails catching in the mesh top- almost clawing at him, close to ripping it, throwing it aside as I feel rage build. I glare when I see the other person, a man has his hand close to oppa's belt, fingers trying to undo it- but given the glaze and slightly fumbling fingers, he's drunk. But that doesn't excuse nor justify his actions, he's not completely gone that he has no sense of his surroundings and alcohol doesn't make you force yourself onto others.

My fingers catch at his wrist, stilling his movements and he slowly raises his head, drunken expression turning into one of rage and recognition.

"Get your hand off me, he's mine." He slurs, trying to wrench himself free, his state of intoxication making it harder for him, just as an arm lands on my shoulder and wrenches me back, spinning me around to face the woman who's glaring at me.

"Don't try muscle in, we've been looking at him all night." She says, as if that'll somehow justify her actions, her attempts to assault someone who clearly isn't aware of his surroundings.

But then the words she utters next, makes that bubble of anger burst and the rage to spill over.

"It took so much effort to get him wasted. Now move." She grits, trying to pull me back.

Wasted. But that's not what explains the dilated pupils when I turn or the sweaty sheen to his face or the way he seems to lean onto the wall for physical support, hands weak as he struggles to unlatch the man's grip on his belt, fingers successfully opening the buckle of the belt and sliding it open.

I feel her nails catch and dig in slightly at my shoulder when I wrench myself free.

And I don't care what the consequences are, or how I'll get the two of them off when I twist the man away and my knee drives up in a jerk to his groin, driving every bit of force and all my anger into it- satisfied at the pained groan that follows and how he doubles over, hands off the belt like I'd wanted it to.

He curses, watery eyes flying to meet mine as he stumbles upright, swearing filthily as he advances, Habaek oppa forgotten for the moment as he moves closer to me.

And rather than deal with words or even express the glittering dissatisfaction in his eyes, he manages to land a heavy blow across my face when he backhands me, the force causing my face to jerk abruptly to the side- face stinging with the hit, feeling the throb of it where the metal of his heavy rings had hit.

I straighten, ignoring the pain. Right now Habaek oppa needs me.

And right now these two are my problem.

"Dirty slut trying to muscle in. It was so hard to get him alone." He spits out, swaying slightly.

I automatically shift to stand in front of Habaek oppa, silently worrying at the lack of awareness in his eyes or the way he fumbles even as he leans against the wall.

My hand reaches back to grip the side of his hip, squeezing lightly. Silently waiting for him to mumble anything, squeeze back. Just any reaction that lets me know he's aware, he's fine. That it didn't get further than this. That I managed to arrive on time.

The woman's face is twisted with disgust and unveiled anger as she moves forward, stepping extremely close to me so I can feel the wave of stale alcohol on her breath as she talks.

"Move. He wants it just as much as we do." She says.

I can't fight the grimace both from her words wafting onto my face and just how wrong they are.

How on earth did she get that conclusion when he's unaware of his surroundings, when he can't even consent? And I'd have known immediately it was a lie even if she hadn't spoke, even if Habaek oppa hadn't whispered just how disturbed he was growing over the course of the night from their lingering presences and uncomfortable advances?

And I shoot her a disgusted look watching as her face contorts further and she raises her hand, swinging outwards in a fist to my face. I manage to move but not quick enough because her adorned fingers catch the side of my jaw and I chew the inside of my mouth to stifle the wince that threatens to escape as a pained sound.

Not now. Not now.

And then at the most inopportune time Habaek oppa responds, but not verbally, simply wounding his arms low around my waist to tug him back, head dropping to press kisses that land randomly on my head, head lowering as he bends to kiss my cheek, down to my neck.

Not now, not now I silently plead. Not when his actions make both of them narrow their eyes at the sight, stepping close.

This is not going to end well but like hell am I going to move from here.

"Useless guy won't even put out for the one who makes him high. What a waste." The man mutters disgustedly, thankfully seeming to be turned off by the idea.

But his words make me freeze.

They've drugged him.

They've spiked his drink, and it makes nausea well up when I think when it could've happened- the thought of it making me feel dizzy.

And then my mind flashes to the sight of them eagerly staring at the two of us at the bar. When he'd gone off to get drinks. When he'd stopped me from drinking mine when it had been his that had been spiked.

I shouldn't have handed it over. I should've said the same to him.

And I remember the small sip I'd taken. The small amount of drugs coursing in my system but already flowing through his.

How long had it been?

40 minutes?

I ignore the two as I twist to face him, hands desperately reaching to feel his pulse at his throat, feeling my world freeze at the extremely slow heartbeat, the thud dull and random under my fingertips. And then reach out to cup his cheeks, peering into the unfocused eyes that stare back, pupils dilated wide. 

And then his hands slowly fumble, with difficulty managing to pull me in close, feeling the buckle of his open belt dig into me and a slurred mumble of my name followed by an equally devastating slow utter for help.

I nod frantically.

I'll help.

Of course I'll help.

I need to get him out of here and back home or an ambulance if his symptoms don't improve.

But how do I leave with the two threats very apparently boring burning holes into my back.

And I can't stop the pained startled small yelp that tears out of me when a hand fists my hair and yanks, neck forced to arch backwards all of a sudden, eyes watering slightly.

"Well if she won't let us have him, then we can just her instead." The man grits out, face hovering near mine.

His voice is low and rough and addled by lust and frustration.

And I try as hard as I can not to slip into memories of another man talking close into my ear, another touch harsh and violent as he tugs my head back to him, several pairs of hands roving freely and feverishly over my body, tugging at clothes, and inching upwards, lifting fabric as they go. Now is not the time to think of another voice that talks about having fun, whilst another laughs and comments on the tears.

"Needy thing wants it so much she's crying." A low laugh, and a hand that gropes at my chest. The touch harsh and invasive, ignoring the pleading whimper to let go, coming out slurred.

And try as I might I can't move, I can't get my limbs to cooperate with my screaming, begging mind, can't think past the slow fog that seeps into every corner, every nook and cranny and crevice of my mind; limbs not moving, feeling as if I'm trudging through treacle and my mouth tastes like the fizzy fruity alcohol I'd been sipping at; the taste now vile and corrosive when my mind slowly pieces together what's happened.

But through the pain of the memory that slips in, comes the memory of how it had stopped. How I'd found my body yanked backwards and into a pair that spelt safety, that screamed security and the low murmuring mantra of 'never again, I've got you cherub'. He hadn't failed me.

And I couldn't fail him. So even with the tears that silently trickle down my cheeks, I find myself building myself up, twisting to get myself free, because I have to be there for him. He's in that vulnerable position, dazed and a small pained sound leaving his throat as he tries to move forward, tries to get his mind and body to cooperate. I drive my elbow back, driving it into his gut and relishing in the sound of pain, whipping around, tugging the hand free which yanks at my hair and find my grip tightening around his waist, eyes unforgiving and so, so angry.

Just as I'm about to move forward, to hiss in his ear and tell him to let go. To trance him into listening, someone beats me to it.

And I watch as the man is twisted away, pulled away by a stronger hand that wheels him around and watch as the man howls in pain clutching at his cheek as he falls, felled to the ground by a solid fist.

I look at my saviour. At my helper.

And find myself faced to faced to my sunshine dancing machine Hoseok. Who's no longer the epitome of sunshine but rather thunder- face hard and disgusted as he looks down at the man, body tight and veins in his arms prominent.

He looks at me immediately, almost as if he'd sensed my eyes, face softening and expressing concern.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently, stepping closer.

I nod, finding myself too distracted to focus on him because I've got Habaek oppa drugged and unaware behind me and the woman about to slip away. My hand reaches out to grab her bag, the strap slipping free of her shoulder as she hurries away, melting into the crowd. But if her bag has any form of id in it then it's fine. Because there's no way I'll let her get away with it. I hurriedly throw it on, moving quickly to Habaek oppa, hearing Hoseok step up behind me.

"What happened?" he asks, voice tight- as if he's holding back the force of his emotions seeping through.

My hands tremble as I clutch the buckle, the metal biting into my palm as I grip it tightly, remembering just what he's escaped. Thanking whatever divine force had guided me here, because I can't bear to think what could've happened. I notice with a sickening feeling that his zipper is slightly undone, and I don't hesitate to tug it back up, doing up the button before redoing his belt, letting out a silent sigh of relief that he's fine. My hands linger on his waist after I've done the belt, shifting myself around to support him, holding him into me.

"Let me help." Hoseok says tightly, stepping up on Habaek oppa's other side and trying to shift him more into him. But I don't think he has a grasp on the situation, or just how much drugs are coursing through him because Habaek oppa sways heavily, teetering and crashing into me suddenly- my knees nearly buckling under the force.

"Sorry." Hoseok says hurriedly, securing Habaek oppa more firmly against himself, but Habaek oppa keeps murmuring something in a slur, repeating it over and over and it's after a few times that I decipher his intelligible slur.

"Cherub safe." He mumbles and my heart squeezes in a vice.

Because even in this drugged, unaware state he's still looking out for me, still thinking of me.

And together the three of us slowly navigate through the side of the floor, moving past bodies. And despite every harsh barge, every disgruntled sound or filthy swear I can't find it in me to even begin to care. Right now nothing matters except Habaek oppa. I feel a buzz against my thigh, realise it's a message alert from the phone secure in the deep hidden pocket of my clothes.

And I don't realise Hoseok hadn't been leading us to the exit but rather to where the others are.

And the others are in an array of inebriation, some of them looking slightly tipsy and giggling at nothing and anything, murmuring to each other as they sway, and the others watching with bright loose grins.

One of them being Seokjin.

Who turns having spotted Hoseok first, but the wide dazzling smile slips off his face and steps forward, disentangling himself carefully from Jimin's arms and passing him over to Yoongi- who's dark eyes turn from soft, to shocked to alarmed.

"What happened?" he asks alarmed, turning to look at both me and Hoseok for explanation, a drugged, unfocused Habaek oppa between us.

I don't know how many times I'll hear that question.

What I do know is I have no answer for it.

I just don't know how to explain it.

And feel my mind swirl and spin in a dizzying spin.

HOBI POV:

I stare helplessly at Jin hyung, trying so hard to keep level-headed in this situation, when instead all I'm feeling is a confused mess, feeling myself shake with anger at the images that keep flashing in my head.

I push them aside because right now the situation at hand is what matters, no matter how tempting it is to return and find the man and make him pay.

It's so different to how silently alluring and beckoning her dance had been, how ethereal and mesmerising her beauty had been; making it harder and harder to not want to do what Jimin had. To go and ask her dance and feel that confident sway and enticing moves of hers up close.

And I hadn't been lying. Not at the shop and not now when I find myself struck by her beauty, hoping that the teasing remark would disguise just how blown away I'd felt. 

How much it felt like a show put on for my eyes as Jiminie and (Y/N) dance; feeling myself torn about which person I should whisk away and keep in my arms.

Jin hyung thankfully though takes the lead at this moment.

"We need to get him home. I think I should drive them. Hoseok-ah, you and Yoongi round up the group and head home." He begins but cuts off when I shake my head quickly.

"I'll come too." I say, unable to verbalise the feeling of fear of letting her go so quickly out of my sight. It scares me to think what would've happened if I hadn't gone after her, mentally deciding to ask her for a dance anyway once Tae had grabbed hold of Joon and demanded his best kisses.

Can't imagine how the night could've ended if he hadn't done that and I hadn't mustered up my courage.

Jin hyung nods, turning to tell Yoongi hyung that we're taking the two of them home, he nods- eyes dark and observant as he reads the situation, tightening his hold around a swaying Jiminie.

"Go ahead hyung, I'll hold the fort down." He says, trying to go for light but the tone lost in the seriousness of what's happening.

And it's as we enter the slightly cool night air, the wind brushing against our faces that Jin hyung suddenly sighs.

"Keys, we need one of the car keys." He mutters, about to spin to turn back in when  (Y/N)'s hand reaches out to gingerly tap Jin hyung's arm, getting his attention instantly.

One of hands holding Habaek from around the waist unwound, but the action makes Habaek teeter, swaying heavily to the right and into her no matter how tightly I try hold him upright.

Her eyes widen and she looks so apologetic and hesitant as her eyes silently drop to her right thigh, gesturing that she has car keys in her pocket.

Jin hyung's ears burn red in the dark street, but he nods carefully stepping up and fingers oh-so-carefully brushing across the side to find the opening of her pocket. 

But before hyung's hand slides into her pocket Habaek startles and shifts, his own hands knocking Jin hyung's away and his fingers scrabbling for purchase on her right thigh, and almost with practiced ease, his hand delving in straight away and emerging victoriously a few long minutes later with keys.

It's clear Habaek seems pretty out of it, but he's still got the tiniest shred of awareness.

Jin hyung carefully extracts the keys from his hand and makes his way to a car he clearly recognises, opening the car to help (Y/N) slide in with Habaek who splays across the seats and into her.

I slide into the passenger seat, Jin hyung turning the car on.

And it seems the navigation is already programmed to lead us to their home, and there's a thick tense silence in the car that's not broken by anything or anyone. Hyung has a tight grip on the wheel, and his eyes are resolutely fixed on the road but I know, just know from knowing him for years that his mind is whirring and trying to make a picture of what's happened. Trying to figure out what on earth has happened.

And my own mind is occupied with the repetitive loop of the memory of (Y/N)'s head getting harshly yanked back, neck forcefully arched and the man inching closer, hissing something to her.

It had made rage, blinding white and consuming sear across my mind and my vision and pushed my feet into motion, to move and to get him away.

I felt a grim sense of pride at the way she'd handled it, elbowing him in the gut and freeing herself from it, but that hadn't made me worry any less- because whether or not I saw that she had handled it, I knew that the situation could've still gotten ugly.

And when we pull up in front of her house, I frown at the thought that yet again a bad set of circumstances has brought me back here.

"Let's go." Jin hyung says, stepping out of the car to go round the passenger seats and help (Y/N) out. But her clutch on Habaek is unrelenting and she shoots a soft pained glance at him as she silently helps him out, teetering slightly under his weight until Jin hyung helps her, the two of them slowly making their way to the front door. And this time she's able to get the keys to slide into the lock, leading the way in as she toes off her shoes, height dropping and on slightly more steady footing leads the way into the living room.

Jin hyung carefully deposits Habaek onto the couch, but (Y/N) moves to get him comfortable, drawing his legs up onto the couch and trying to position him more gently.

Her hands are trembling.

Fingers shaking as they brush back his hair, and gently caress his face, roving down to rest against his throat, biting her lip in overwhelming concern at whatever she finds.

But before she can hurry off, before she can dart out of the room, Jin hyung's hand gently captures her wrist.

She stills, hair falling back to cover her face- a curtain, a layer of protection or some sort of comfort to shield her from sight but not quick enough to hide the glossy sheen to her eyes or the tears that well up.

Please. She mouths it over and over again in a silent plea.

And Jin hyung's hand falls limply to his side, face trying to hide the hurt he feels for her and watches as she rushes out the room.

"Hoseok-ah, what happened?" he asks, voice wavering slightly.

And I tense slightly before revealing how I'd found her, how Habaek seemed to be out of it.

It seems as if he had had too much to drink.

And I watch as Jin hyung's face grows tighter and progressively more worried, the two of us are only able to watch as she moves back in and tries to get his attention, gently patting his face- eyes large and wide and filled with concern.

She props him up, hand around his back and I rush to help her, receiving a small smile of thanks as she hurries on stripping his jacket off him. She holds a damp towel and she slowly goes about dabbing the sweat off his skin with a tenderness, a softness, patting at his face, at his neck, at his arms and makes no move to escape when with a slight groan Habaek's hand fumbles before wrapping around her wrist.

"Cherub..." he mumbles.

A part of me feels as if we're intruding on a private moment, at the communication silently passed through their eyes and I watch with an aching heart as tears silently fall.

He leans forward, head drooping onto her shoulder and he mumbles incoherently into her skin and she abandons the towel to cradle his head close, brushing her fingers through his hair.

She looks at us, face soft and hurting.

She smiles sadly and fishes for her phone, tapping away when Jin hyung's phone chimes.

He takes it out, reading the text and frowning.

"I can't just leave you like this." He states plaintively.

I nod my head in agreement but she looks torn, eyes drifting back to Habaek.

It's a moment of desperation, of being unwilling to leave her alone in such a vulnerable state.

"Let us stay." The words burst out.

Her eyes widen.

"Let us help, please." 

(THERE YOU GO! OFFICIALLY THEY HAVE LEFT THE CLUB! BUT THE DRAMA IS FAR FROM OVER. I HOPE IT WAS CLEAR AND NOT VAGUE BUT SOMEONE HAS SLIPPED A DATE RAPE DRUG INTO HABAEK'S DRINK AND THUS HIS CURRENT STATE. AND HONESTLY IT MADE MY HEART ACHE THAT HABAEK HAS BEEN DRUGGED, BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE DASH OF SLIGHTLY BADASS BABY SIREN! SHE'S A FIERCE WARRIOR WHEN IT COMES TO HABAEK AND AN ANGSTY FLASH FROM HER PAST TOO! NOW NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE JINNIE AND HOBI HELPING OUT AND MAYBE SOME MORE MISUNDERSTANDINGS BEING CREATED! I HOPE THE CHAPTER WAS INTERESTING TO READ AND THERE'S MORE TO COME!! LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS! AND AHHH! I'M SO MAD AT THE COUPLE! URGH!! STAY SAFE AND TAKE CARE LOVELIES!)

QUESTION...SOMETHING THAT IS DEADLY TO YOU? QUITE RECENTLY SO?

Mine is...the concert, and the undercuts most of the group are supporting and the overwhelming forehead exposure. Someone bless me with clear skin too. 🥺🥺

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3