#going off of how they each knew about the other's demons (drugs and alcohol) but still

[robinsnest2111]

seeing video evidence of the crüe being jokingly mean to each other and getting the instant feeling I'd not survive a single minute around them in the 80s because I am a sensitive little thing (and possibly autistic going by my constant struggles of reading social cues or taking things too literally) and would just instantly die as soon as they'd start laying into me with comments of that caliber lol

[snoowpee]

falling from grace - j.sc

Pairing ⇾ angel!sungchan x devil!reader

Genre ⇾ smut, a little bit of fluff & fantasy, slight crack

Warnings ⇾ slight dubcon, cheating, religious themes, unprotected sex (children are expensive!), manipulation, corruption kink, making out, marking, finger sucking, fingering, cum eating, oral (both giving & receiving), overstimulation, jerking off, hair pulling, size kink, strength kink, exhibitionism. mentions of natty (kiss of life), seoyeon (fromis_9), ningning (aespa), intak (p1harmony). I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!

Summary ⇾ you’ve been eyeing jung sungchan for a while, wondering if he’s as innocent as he presents himself to be.

Word count ⇾ 9.3k words

Playlist ⇾ Zayn (feat. Kehlani) - wRoNg.

Fire and water do not mix. Love and hatred do not go well together. Angels and demons do not get along. And most certainly, You and Jung Sungchan are not meant to be together.

Though something about him fascinates you. How good, nice, pure, and innocent he presents himself to be. He was intoxicating. Addictive than most drugs or alcohol could be. It was alarming how much you desire to find out if that innocent facade he carries is the true him. You knew beforehand that he was someone you can’t have. He was different from your usual entertainment. So untainted, uncorrupted, undefiled. Someone who you can call yours. He was your forbidden fruit. So sweet and charming your heart aches.

Would he be still so kind if you took everything away from him? Would he still look at you with bright eyes after defiling him? Would his wings be still white as snow or would it disappear into ashes once you touch it?

There’s only one way to find out and you make it your mission to unravel the truth. One thing’s for sure it’s not what he calls his God he’ll be worshiping tonight.

“Any chance, one of you is willing to accompany me?” You stopped your train of thoughts to ask one of your dearest friends, Natty and Seoyeon.

“Accompany you where?” Seoyeon asked, twirling a strand of her hair between her middle and index fingers. Natty chuckled, you and Seoyeon both looking at her.

“Girl, don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’ve been looking at Jung Sungchan,” Natty smiled mischievously.

“No way,” Seoyeon smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re interested?”

“Come on. Don’t you two ever think about what lies beneath that pretty face?” You stare at the oblivious boy meters away from you. “He seems so… fun,” you finished lamely. When you turn to look at your friends, they bursted out laughing.

“You could find out if he’s sweet as he looks, if you could get past that,” Natty nods towards a girl, an angel, walking. You recognize the girl, Ningning, well-known for her beauty as well as personality. Her hair sways around, her wings flapping graciously as she navigates her way through the crowd, a smile never leaving her face. She was so prim and proper, just as an angel should.

Unlike you, thanks to your horns, fiery red eyes, fangs, and pointed tail.

“What’s her deal?” You asked, curiosity reigning your emotions.

“She’s to be Jung Sungchan’s partner,” Seoyeon explained. “They’re not marrying each other though, more of like their God blessing their relationship before taking things seriously, if you know what I mean,” Seoyeon added with a hint of uncertainty. “I don’t know what shit goes on in their realm, but that’s what I heard.”

Your mouth stretched into a smile. Perfect.

Sungchan exhaled once he finished the pile he was working on. He had been working since the morning and he badly needed a breather before working on the next stack of files.

“How’s my favorite angel doing?” His head snapped to the familiar voice.

“Well, your favorite angel is exhausted from working. But it’s nothing he had done before,” Sungchan answered with a sweet smile. “How about you, my love?” Ningning blushed at Sungchan’s words.

“I’m doing fine, myself, thank you for asking.” Ningning reached out to hold Sungchan’s hand, sighing at his touch. “I can’t wait to be yours.”

“I can’t wait to be yours, either,” Sungchan blushed.

It was unfair truly, how angels are supposed to wait for the blessing of their God before doing something deemed as sinful. It wasn’t a problem for Sungchan though, he followed the laws like how an angel should.

“I hate to tell you this, but my superior told me that I have to go on a retreat before the big day,” Ningning pouted. It was a required process before the blessing and Sungchan understood, of course he did.

“No worries,” Sungchan assured Ningning, “I understand. For what it’s worth, I heard that retreats are really fun. You get peace and all the good stuff that comes with it, I’m sure you’re gonna have a blast.”

“Well, what about you?” Ningning asked worriedly.

“Don’t worry about me. I have enough work to keep me busy.”

Pretending to be an angel is truly easy.

It wasn’t your idea, but your friend’s. Natty always brought up good ideas. An example would be your meeting with Sungchan’s dad. It was fun, really, having everybody wrapped around your fingers. All it took was disguise and your sickening smile and voilà, a meeting with Jung Sungchan.

Of course you had to bullshit your way through everything, you’re a demon for a reason.

Sungchan was running 10 minutes late for your meeting, you had insisted on meeting at your apartment, for privacy reasons.

After 30 minutes of waiting, you finally heard a knock on your door. You opened it with the same sickening smile.

“Apologies, I was caught up with work and I didn’t notice the time. That is no excuse of course, but I thought I should let you know.” Sungchan said out of breath. He sounded majestic, you wondered if that’s what he’ll sound like when you have him in your mou– of course that had to wait.

“No worries! I understand,” you said with a smile. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule. I know it’s way too sudden, I just really don’t know anyone around here, seeing that I’m from someplace else,” You explained while leading him into your apartment. It wasn’t totally a lie, you were in fact from someplace else, hell to be specific, but Sungchan didn’t need to know that.

“Ah, that’s alright. It’s my pleasure to help you. My dad said you needed someone to help you and I gladly volunteered, it was my choice so don’t worry about it.” Sungchan sat on your couch, his wings majestic and shiny. Your patience was wavering, you wanted to take him then and there. Sungchan cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” You politely asked, it was so out of character, you didn’t recognize your own voice.

“Well, I was just asking what you needed help with?” Fuck. What did you need help with? What do angels do?

“Uhm… Bible verses?” You answered, Sungchan blankly stared at you.

“That’s… What about it?” Sungchan asked, confusion plastered on his face. Angels don’t usually recite Bible verses, nor do anything involving it. It was peculiar that you needed help with it. That invoked something in Sungchan. Curiosity. He could deny all he wants but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re enticing.

Sungchan froze, lost in his thoughts to notice you moving closer to him, the distance too close to be friendly. Sungchan moved back a little, startled by the action. He cleared his throat once again, his breath heaving. You smirked.

“Are you always this good?”

“You’re too far away. Come closer, so we could talk properly,” you placed your hand on his thigh. Sungchan gulped. He has never been touched there.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be this close,” Sungchan tried moving away again, but he was stopped by the arm rest of your couch. When did he get so close to the end of the couch?

“It’s ok, you’re not making me uncomfortable. Plus it’s only the two of us. No one will know.” You moved your hand upwards, lightly gracing his abdomen before placing it on his chest, leaning in to whisper, “Imagine how much fun we’ll have, pretty boy.” Your gaze trailed to his lips, biting yours as you do so.

Sungchan places his hand on top of yours, “I can’t be this close to you. I can’t.”

You chuckled, shrugging off his protests, crawling into his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, while his hands awkwardly stayed on his sides. Kissing along his jaw you spoke, “If you’re worried about Ningning finding out,” You stopped, lips near his ear, “Don’t be. This is our own little secret.”

You pulled away just in time to see a very beautiful Sungchan. Rosey cheeks, eyes twinkling, breath heaving. Fuck. He looked so pure.

You take his chin into your hand, touching his lips with yours, kissing him slowly. He tasted like what you had in mind, even better than what you’ve had in mind. He tasted sweet. As you explored his mouth, his hands finally moved to grip your sides. You had to stop a moan from leaving you as you felt how big his hands were. You can't wait to feel it all over you, but of course that could wait.

When you pulled away from the kiss, Sungchan chased your lips.

“Please…” He said breathlessly.

“You’re so pretty, my angel.” You cupped his face with your hands, and Sungchan’s stomach twisted in guilt as he remembered Ningning. It was so wrong, but it felt good.

“Listen here, pretty boy.” You cupped Sungchan’s jaw whilst he struggled to listen to you, a cloud of need engulfing his senses. “The thing that you will help me with is this,” you took his hand, leading it down in between your legs. Sungchan gasped when he felt the warmth of your wet throbbing core. You had to fight the urge of moaning out loud when you felt his hand against you. “Now, you might not know what to do but I’ll be willing to teach you.” Sungchan nodded at your words not fully comprehending anything. “But this has to be our own little secret, understood?”

“Yes..” you smiled at his breathless answer.

You stood up abruptly, leaving Sungchan confused. You saw the tent in his pants and smiled to yourself, almost feeling bad… until you didn’t. He looked so breathless and lost which didn’t help the ache between your legs.

“Don’t you think it’s getting late?”

Sungchan looked at the clock hanging on the wall, 9:00 pm. Shit. He forgot that he had to be home within 10 minutes if he wanted to talk to Ningning.

Your smile widened at his expression.

“Right…” Sungchan trailed off, standing up to leave.

“I’ll see you again, angel.”

It had been exactly 5 days since Sungchan came over to your place. 5 days where he had endured the endless amount of his torturing thoughts of your lips on his. He swore he could still taste you in his tongue.

“Sungchan?” Ningning’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Are you feeling alright?” Ningning’s voice was etched with concern.

“Yeah, just tired.” Sungchan coughed to mask the feeling of his guilt churning in his stomach.

“I told you to not overdo it,” Ningning sighed.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard being the son of a superior, there's too much to do in a day,” Sungchan hid his head behind his hands, rubbing his face harshly, doing anything to get you off his mind. He was talking to Ningning, his soon to be girlfriend, he should be only thinking about her. But he couldn’t help it. What were you up to? Why haven’t you called him back after 5 whole days? Did something happen? Should he check up on you? Should he go to– Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sungchan cleared his throat, “When are you coming back? I miss you.”

“I miss you too, my love,” Ningning pouted. “I don’t know the answer to your question, apparently this whole retreat thing is long. Who would've thought that angels should undergo rituals to have a boyfriend?”

“Trust me, what angels undergo for marriage is harsher than this. I heard that you won't be able to see each other for months to build trust and commitment,” At the reminder of his own words Sungchan paled. He was not supposed to be close to other angels, especially when he already has Ningning. Maybe, her calling me back isn’t a bad thing. This is for the better.

“Well, maybe having a superior as a father isn’t so bad. Look at you, you’re already done the basic necessities for the blessing.”

“I should thank my dad, I guess,” Sungchan smiled when he saw Ningning yawn. She was always cute no matter what she did. “You should probably go to sleep.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you again later. Bye, my love.”

“Bye, my love.”

Sungchan ended the call, realizing how fucked he was.

“You haven’t called him since?” Natty turned to you as she held up a sparkly dress against her body.

“Yes. I like that one with the heels,” You hand her a silver necklace that matches the dress she was holding up.

“Why not? I was wondering what angel dick tasted like,” you snorted at her words.

“I don’t know, heaven?” you fixed your hair, showcasing your sultry horns. “Enough about him, I’ll fuck him when I want to, and yes, I promise to tell you and Seoyeon about it.” You sighed, already bored talking about Sungchan.

“I’m surprised you held out this long. You’re the most impatient bitch I’ve ever known. I thought you would’ve fucked him the moment he went inside your place.”

“I have enough boytoys to keep me company,” you shrugged. “Speaking of boytoys, would you hurry up and change? I wanna go to the party now.”

“Alright!” Natty rolled her eyes, disappearing behind the bathroom door to change.

Your phone chimed, stealing your attention away from admiring yourself.

Angel

Hey.

What have you been up to?

Is everything alright? I haven’t seen you since…

Angels are so easy to manipulate. You scoffed. Sungchan is making everything easy for you, you both like and hate the fact. You ignored the text and finished getting ready.

Not long after you and Natty were on your way to meet Seoyeon at some party.

When you arrived at the place, you were amazed by the crowd. You were expecting some trashy party, like the last, but surprisingly today’s crowd is more tamed and hot. Just what you needed, after a shitty week.

“I’m gonna go find my boytoy, I’ll leave you to it,” Natty made a kissy face before gesturing at the party. Both of you had no clue where Seoyeon went, but if you were to guess you’d probably find her under a man too. After all, that’s what you three had planned to do at today’s party. Usually, you were always at parties for drinks and gossip. But something about this week, spelt loosen up for all three of you.

Navigating your way to the kitchen wasn’t too hard, nor was getting yourself a drink.

“Hey,” you felt a pair of hands on your hips, followed by a familiar waft of perfume.

“Hey, baby,” you turn your head just a bit to greet the boy behind you with a smile.

“Isn’t it too early for you to drink that?” Seunghan made a face.

“Tough week, mind letting me have my fun?” You drank from your cup, waiting for Seunghan to take the hint. He does, as always.

“We can go back to my place? This place is packed.”

“Great. Well, I guess it’s nice to know that I’m not the only one having a shitty week,” Seunghan chortled at your words. “Are you ok to drive though?” you placed the now empty cup on the counter top, fully turning to now face Seunghan. He kept his hand on your hips the whole time, never moving even after you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really up to drinking today. That’s why I’m Intak’s DD. He’ll be fine if I leave, though. He’s probably getting his dick wet as we speak.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“Jeez, so impatient to have me?”

“You wish,” you rolled your eyes while Seunghan chuckled, intertwining your hands together to lead the way to his car.

Fortunately, Seunghan parked not too far from the house the party was hosted in. The warmth of his car felt nice against your chilled skin as you took a seat on the front seat of his car, waiting for him to get in. Seunghan stood in front of his car talking to someone. To keep you entertained, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your notifications.

Angel

My dad is making me run around town for errands, would you like to come?

I think it’s a good idea to… so that you get used to the place and all.

You don’t have to come of course, I understand if you’re busy.

You chuckled. He is so pathetic. You loved it. How Sungchan desperately tried to meet up with you after what happened in your apartment. Just a little bit more, then you can finally take him. This is one of your favorite games to play when messing with someone. You always loved it when they got so impatient, taking matters into their own hands to get you to look at them in any way.

When Seunghan finished talking to one of his friends, he finally got into the car. Before he could drive, you stopped him with a kiss on his lips. Seunghan masked his shock by kissing back.

“I didn’t know you were this impatient,” Seunghan breathlessly said, after pulling away to inhale air. “Get on the backseat.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

Seunghan climbed back after you, cupping your jaw to deepen the kiss while pushing you back to the seat. Seunghan groans when you buck your hips up against his.

A knock on the window startles the both of you.

Sungchan.

Fuck. How the hell did he find you?

You pull away from Seunghan, confusing him.

“Since when did you care if some other dude is watching you make out with me?” Seunghan runs his fingers through his hair, staring at Sungchan. It’s not like Sungchan is gonna see him, the back windows are tinted. Not the front, though. He should probably get that fix.

“Since the lab experiment is outside your car, waiting for me.” you push Seunghan off you as he laughs.

“Damn. Well, you should probably talk to him. It’s such a shame if you make him cry this early in the experiment.” You snorted, jokingly slapping Seunghan’s cheek. The both of you laughed.

Before getting out of the car, you fix your clothes to hide any indication of your make out with Seunghan. Being extra cautious as you hid your tail, horns, and fangs.

As you got out of the car, Sungchan watched your every move. You held his gaze, looking up as he towered over you.

“What are you doing here?” You were the first to break the silence.

“My dad made me run errands,” Sungchan doesn’t hide the way he glares behind you. You were guessing he saw Seunghan, the way his frown deepened. You heard the car door open and close. Seunghan, you little bitch. You had to hide your smile.

“You would know if you weren’t so busy with him. And if you even cared to look at my texts,” Sungchan brings his gaze back on you.

You chuckled as Sungchan’s brows furrowed.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Are you jealous right now, angel?”

Sungchan froze.

“I’m not! Look, I’m just worried, we haven’t seen each other for days. And when I finally do see you, you’re at some devil’s backseat. I promised my dad that I will look after you. This is me looking after you. Let’s go home now.”

You let out a startled shriek when Sungchan lifted you with one of his arms.

“Put me down, Sungchan!” You grumbled.

Your protest was ignored as Sungchan places you inside of his car, buckling the seat belt for you before shutting the door closed. You ignored Sungchan as he started the car and drove. You pulled out your phone.

You

something came up.

Seunghan

ur blue balling me now? damn u’ve changed baby :(

You

i’ll make it up to you soon :p

Seunghan

u better

at least send me nudes i miss ur body

You

you wish. just jerk off to some porno. you’ll be fine.

Seunghan

meanie >:(

You chuckled at your phone, earning you a glare from Sungchan.

“What’s so funny?” Sungchan casted another side glance at you, eyes focused on the road as he drove.

“None of your business,” you were sort of pissed at him for acting like he did earlier. You just wanted dick after a long day, and here comes Mr. Perfect to ruin all your plans.

“Ok. I’m glad to see you, though. But I’m even more glad to see that your phone’s working.”

The car stopped at a stoplight. Sungchan turned his body a little to allow him to properly meet your gaze.

“What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong? One minute we’re really close to each other, and the second you act as if I don’t even exist.” Sungchan’s voice softened. You reach for his face to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry, angel. I've just been really busy.”

“Why were you with that devil then?” Sungchan being sulky was supposed to annoy you. You always hated it when men act so stupid. Seunghan was an exception, though. You’ve known him for quite a while, and he did not give a fuck if you hated the way he was being sulky and playful. Sungchan, however, is different. You’ve known him in a short span of time and he’s already getting into you. That fucking kissable pout. You just wanted to kiss it off his face.

The sound of a car honking its horn interrupted the both of you.

“Like I said, angel. It’s none of your business. You’re better off not knowing things, trust me.” You pulled your hand away from his face, facing away from him.

The car started moving again.

Sungchan cleared his throat before speaking, “So…” you casted a side glance at him. “I actually don’t know where you live, so I’ve just been driving us to my place. Are you alright with staying the night with me?”

You were taken aback. Why does Sungchan always find a way to ruin all of your plans?

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

You were going to need all of the patience you can get.

Sungchan’s place was exactly how you expected it to be, except for the fact that he only had one room with one bed in it.

“Are you gonna make me sleep on the floor?” you laid down on his bed, Sungchan winced. He had a ‘no outside clothes’ rule, but you wouldn’t know as this is the first time you’ve been to his place. He’ll let you know next time? Next time.

“No. You’re sleeping on the bed, don’t worry,” Sungchan gave you a tight lipped smile as he rummaged through his drawer that contained all of his clothes. “Also, you don’t have to worry about sleeping next to me. I’m sleeping on the couch tonight,” Sungchan had his back turned to you, oblivious to your disappointment.

You expected him to give in. Why is he playing your game?

Finally, Sungchan turned to face you, hands full of his clothes.

“You should change into this,” Sungchan placed the clothes beside you on the bed.

You smirked.

You stood up in front of Sungchan, grabbing the hem of your party dress, pulling it up to take it off. Sungchan’s gaze never left yours, even as you unhooked your bra. Sungchan gulped. You walked closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck when you got close enough. Sungchan’s hands stayed by his side, eyes never leaving yours, even when he felt your perked up nipples against his chest. You tiptoed on your toes to graze his lips with yours.

“What if I get too cold? Who will warm me up by then, angel?”

“Um…” Sungchan finally caved in, looking down at your body while exhaling. He cleared his throat before looking back at your smiling face.

“Hm?” You expectantly looked at him.

“Yeah…” Sungchan said distractedly.

“What do you mean, angel? I need you to use your words properly, I can’t quite understand you,” You traced his jaw with your index finger.

“I’ll sleep next to you.”

Your smile widened, pulling away from him, you grabbed his shirt, putting it on as you ignored the shorts beside it. Sungchan stood completely frozen, watching you as you lay down on the bed.

“Come here, angel.”

It was going to be a long night.

When Sungchan woke up, his heart dropped to his stomach when he didn’t find you beside him. He quickly got up, only to find you in the kitchen.

“I thought you left,” Sungchan rubbed his face with his hands.

You had to take a breath.

Right in front of you was a shirtless Sungchan. Prominent abs on display. You could see every ridges and lines. Biceps bulging out. Trails of veins along his arms.

You needed to fuck him.

At the lack of response, Sungchan noticed the way you were staring at him.

“Oh…” Sungchan immediately realized his mistake. “I’m sorry. I always sleep hot, so I…” Sungchan trailed off as you got closer to him again.

“It’s alright, angel,” You cupped his face with your hands. “Truth be told, I actually like it. I really do.” you dropped your hands, fingers trailing down his body, stopping at his abdomen. “But, I’m not gonna lie to you… I am kind of upset.” Sungchan’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s the matter?”

“I might need your help now, angel.”

You smashed your lips against Sungchan, kissing him fervently. Sungchan tried to keep up as your kisses were way too aggressive for him.

You pulled off of him, giving him time to breathe.

You took his hand and brought them closer to your mouth, you parted your lips to take his index, middle, and ring finger inside your mouth, sucking on them. Sungchan gasped at the unfamiliar feeling. Once his fingers were coated by your saliva, you brought them down to your core. You pushed your panties aside as you guided Sungchan’s fingers inside your wet hole. You both gasped.

“Curl your fingers for me, angel,” you let out breathlessly, the stretch of Sungchan’s fingers knocking the air out of your lungs. You didn’t expect them to feel this good. The thought of his dick made you moan, you wondered how well his dick will fit into you.

Sungchan did what he was told to do, making your legs shake as they close in on his hand in between your legs.

“Like that, angel!” you bit your lip to prevent a whimper from coming out. “Now, I want you to pull your fingers out quickly, put them back in quickly, and curl.”

You let out a moan as Sungchan followed your instructions. Sungchan felt a sense of pride as he watched you shake and moan.

“Fuck, angel. Doing so good for me,” you grabbed onto his biceps as you felt your high approaching. “A little bit more faster, angel.”

Boy, Sungchan is indeed a fast learner.

With a final thrust of his fingers into you, you cummed all over his fingers, wetting the floor in the process. Sungchan slowed the motions of his hand, watching in awe as you came.

“Wow…”

“Good job, angel.” You leaned against him as you catched your breath, holding his wrist to stop his hand from moving. His free hand held you against him.

“What just happened?” Sungchan looked at your exhausted face.

“You just made me cum.”

Sungchan stared at you blankly. You scoffed.

“Do they ever teach you, angels, sex?” 

At your words Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“W-What?” Sungchan sputtered. “I-I thought sex is when y-you penetrate the vagina w-with the penis?” Sungchan paled. You had to laugh.

“Yes, angel. Do you want me to get you crayons and draw how the flowers get watered by the canisters?”

“Stop joking around! I could get suspended if I partake in such obscene activities!” Sungchan panicked.

You laughed harder. After catching your breath you finally spoke, “Angel. I told you that this is gonna be our own little secret. Don’t worry about all of that. No one’s gonna know. You will not get suspended.” You cupped one of his cheeks with your hand while assuring him. “Besides, there are more ways to have sex than ‘penetrating the vagina with a penis’. You can learn a lot from me, angel.”

Sungchan gulped. This is our own little secret. No one will know. No one. Not even Ningning.

“Like what?” Your smile couldn’t get possibly wider as Sungchan caved in.

You took his fingers out of your hole. You brought his own fingers clad with your arousal near his mouth.

“How about I show you, angel?”

“Yes…” Sungchan lazily answered, distracted by your sticky arousal on his fingers. As you pushed his fingers inside his mouth, you instructed him to suck them clean. “You taste amazing.” your pussy throbbed.

“Why don’t you carry me to your bed, angel,” you wrapped your hands around his neck as Sungchan carried you with one arm to his room. Laying down on the bed with you on top of him.

You began kissing him again, this time more slow and sensual. You kissed down to his jaw then neck, noticing the cross necklace he had on. You bit his skin, leaving a love bite beside where the cross ends. You licked down his abdomen, leaving trails of your saliva on his skin. Once you’ve reached the waistband of his sweats you had to stop a gasp from coming out of your mouth. You looked at his crotch, his hardened cock struggling in the confines of his pajama pants.

Sungchan was big.

You rubbed your thighs together, feeling the way Sungchan struggled while you taught him how to fuck you with his fingers. You were so indulged in your own needs that you didn’t realize he had his needs too.

You pulled off his pajama pants, freeing his cock, this time you did let out a gasp. You started salivating at the sight in front of you, Sungchan’s cock was thick and long, the tip leaking precum with his angry veins prodding along the expanse of his length. 

He indeed looked like an angel, collarbones adorning the lovebites you gave him, cross necklace gleaming under the sunlight, pouty swollen lips and bed hair. He was perfect.

Sungchan’s cock was throbbing as he watched you, waiting as you stared at him in awe.

You took his hand in yours, leading his to hold his dick while yours rested on top of his. You slowly moved your hands up and down his length, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. Sungchan let out little whimpers.

“Feels so good…”

“Yeah, angel?” You moved your hands faster, Sungchan moaned out.

“I want you to think of me every time you touch yourself like this, ok?”

Sungchan nodded in a daze, too fucked out to even comprehend what you were saying.

“O-Oh!” Sungchan whined when you sucked his tip, you felt him throbbing on your tongue, tasting his arousal as you sucked and licked his tip. You relaxed your jaw to take half of his size, licking the vein on the underside of his cock, using both of your hands to jerk off the remaining half you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck!” You looked up at Sungchan, surprised at the cuss that left his mouth. Angels never swore. “No, please don’t stop. Please keep going,” Sungchan mewled. If it weren’t for Sungchan begging you to keep going, you wouldn’t have realized that you stopped what you were doing.

Despite being shocked at what happened, you continued to suck on Sungchan’s cock, his moans sounding like your personal heaven. You felt Sungchan’s thigh shake and before you knew it he was cumming inside your mouth. You dropped your joined hands, spitting out his cum back onto his cock, using your hands to smear the mess on his dick.

You watched the tip of Sungchan’s cock spurt out more of his arousal, the tip reddening as you continued jerking him off. He groaned, in turn, sensitive to your touch. You lick up Sungchan’s abdomen, stopping at his chest to bite the skin, all while you move your hands on him. Once you were satisfied with the love bite, you pressed your lips on his, swallowing the whimpers he was letting out.

You two messily made out for a while, stopping when you felt Sungchan cum around your hand. In a daze, Sungchan looked up at you, too fucked out to function.

“You alright, angel?” you asked as you met his gaze, instead of replying Sungchan nodded, eyes droopy. “Here, how about we get you cleaned up. You can go to bed after,” you tried pulling him up by grabbing onto his biceps. Fortunately, Sungchan followed your lead, putting his arm around your shoulder and waist, clinging to you as you both walked to his bathroom.

He wrapped both of his arms around your waist, head leaning on your shoulder as you cleaned him and yourself up. Once you’ve successfully finished, you drag him back to his room where he passed out on his bed while clinging onto you. You lie beside Sungchan, your eyelids slowly falling shut. Before you knew it, you were falling asleep beside him.

“So, what have you been up to these days?” Ningning asked, pulling Sungchan out of his thoughts.

He had forgotten that he was on a call with Ningning, too occupied with the thoughts of you. To his surprise, you didn’t ignore him after what happened, instead you regularly came over to his place to keep him company, driving him insane by wearing his clothes, parading around his apartment with nothing but panties underneath.

It drove him nuts.

That didn’t stop him from shoving his fingers up inside you, of course. It surprised him how much he wanted to taste the slick pouring out of you every time he made you cum, tempted to lick his fingers to find out if it tasted as sweet as your mouth.

Sungchan coughed, his dick stirring with arousal under his pants.

He could always ask you if he could taste you… but how? Does he just lick you then? He had no idea what to do.

He might have to do research. Or he could ask Eunseok for those videos he once caught him watching.

He’s definitely asking you, instead.

“Earth to Sungchan?”

“Right, sorry. I’ve been really busy these past few days. You know how my dad is,” It was scary how easily Sungchan could lie now. Before, he couldn’t even tell a lie, caving in to tell the truth eventually, as his stomach churned in guilt.

That feeling of his stomach churning hadn’t gone away. As he looked at Ningning the guilt inside him bubbles up, again. Yet, when he’s with you, he couldn’t give a fuck about feeling guilty. When are you coming over, anyways?

Sungchan tunes out Ningning as she spoke to him about her day. His calls with Ningning are slowly becoming less frequent, his responses to conversations becoming shorter as he space out thinking about you.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you about this… they’re asking me to stay a little bit longer, because apparently my services have been really helpful. I’m sorry if I didn’t tell you sooner, but I have decided to stay. I hope you’re ok with that?”

“Of course, I’m ok with that, it’s your choice. I won’t limit your happiness. If you’re happy to help, then I’m happy too.”

“You’re the best, my love.”

Sungchan’s stomach churned.

“Thank you, my love.”

You quizzically stared at Sungchan. It had been a while since he stared at his food, stabbing the food with his fork as he got lost in his thoughts.

You stood up, gaining his attention. You straddled his lap, his hands automatically finding their way to your sides.

“What’s the matter?” you asked, playing with his hair. Sungchan leaned into your touch, swallowing down his embarrassment before speaking.

“I saw…” Sungchan started, “Uhm, well… I don’t..”

You stared. Sungchan gulped.

“Can I… taste you?”

You stared.

“Like, you know. The thing that��� when you..”

“Angel. You can have me for dessert.”

Sungchan audibly gulped. You pulled yourself off of him, pushing yourself up to sit on the dining table behind you. You lift Sungchan’s shirt, showing your cotton underwear by spreading your legs apart.

“Come close, angel. Take it off for me.”

Entranced by you, Sungchan does what he’s told, situating himself in between your legs, staring at your glistening core.

You take the time to tell him what you wanted him to do.

“See this, angel. I want you to lick from here to here ok?” You part your folds with your fingers, showing him your hole. Sungchan was in awe.

You sighed in delight when you guided his fingers to rub your clit, quivering when he pressed a little bit harsher than you told him to.

“When you get here, I want you to suck it hard. You can lick it too, angel. I like that too,” you played with Sungchan’s hair as you explained to him, finding it adorable how he listened intently to your instructions.

“Why don’t you give it a try?”

You gasped when you felt Sungchan’s tongue on you, your grip on his hair tightening as he poked his tongue inside your hole. He slurps up your arousal, sucking your clit harshly, making you close your thighs around his head. You mewled at the feeling of Sungchan’s mouth on you.

He gripped your thighs, tapping the sides to gain your attention. You look down to see his glossy eyes staring up at you.

“Fuck, angel. You look so adorable like this,” you moaned when you felt Sungchan nibble on your clit. One of his hands left your thigh, stroking his cock through his pants at your compliment. The sight turned you on; Sungchan’s chin coated with your arousal as he pleased you, jerking himself off to your moans.

It didn’t take you long to soak his face with your cum, harshly gripping his hair as you released all over him, wetting his shirt in the process.

You lie down on the table, feeling the cool surface as you catch your breath. Sungchan rested his forehead on top of your right thigh, caressing the other while he closed his eyes. In return, you played with Sungchan’s hair, the both of you staying still for a while.

“I should probably clean you up…” Sungchan spoke against the skin of your thigh, “Oh, and… uhm…” Sungchan trailed off.

Confused, you sat up to properly look at him, his pants with a wet patch of his arousal coming into view. You gasped.

Sungchan came in his pants while he ate you out.

“You never come to confession anymore,” Sungchan’s dad spoke over the line. He rubbed his face with his hand, figuring out a way to explain himself. No matter how hard he tried, it all came down to one reason. I’ve been partaking into obscene activities while lying to the person I love, and I’ve been guilty all this time. Sungchan exhaled.

“I’m sorry, dad. I’ve just been really busy.” It was a lame excuse, but Sungchan couldn’t tell him the real reason behind his absence with his faith.

“I understand. Come by when you’re free, your mom misses you.”

After an exchange of pleasantries, the phone call ended.

Sungchan laid on his bed pondering what he was doing with his life. He has an angel showering in his bathroom while another one is miles away doing everything she can so that their relationship can move on to the next big thing.

Sungchan sighed, aggressively rubbing his face again.

“What’s up with you,” he heard you say.

Sungchan removed his hands from his face, taking your figure in; wet hair and body wrapped in a towel, with droplets covering the expanse of your skin. He felt his dick twitch. You smelled so good.

He opened his arms and you immediately got the hint. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his abdomen, to play with his hair. You gasped in surprise when Sungchan pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Hey, what’s that?” Sungchan asked. You followed his line of sight and saw your tail poking out. Shit.

“Uh…” you cleared your throat, trying to think of a lie.

“You’ve got something poking out of your head too,” Sungchan looked at you, his expression pure of confusion. Come on, think. Spew out a lie, you got this. You looked away from him, hiding your eyes.

You felt Sungchan's hands cup your jaw, making you face him. He stared into your eyes.

“You’re a devil.”

Sungchan pressed his lips onto yours. You froze.

Once you recovered from your shock you kissed back. You had expected him to be mad at you, not this, whatever this is.

You pulled away from his lips, placing both of your hands on his shoulders.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?” Sungchan placed his hands on your waist.

“Because… I lied to you..?” Sungchan chuckled at your words.

“Did you really think I believed you were an angel?” You furrowed your eyebrows at his question, “I knew at the very beginning. At our first meeting you asked about bible verses.. angels do not deal with that.” Sungchan mischievously grinned.

“You’re such an ass,” you huffed.

“How am I an ass? You’re the one who pretended to be an angel so that you could get with me,” Sungchan placed a kiss on your neck.

“And you let me..” you bite back. “Why?”

“Because you were fun to be with. I didn’t mind if you were pretending to be an angel in the first place, you had your reasons.”

“You figured out I was a devil, but you never figured out the reason why I was messing with you?” You scoffed.

“No..”

You took his hand into yours, guiding it down in between your bodies to your core. Sungchan took the hint and cupped your core.

“Oh.. well then. Should I prove to you that you picked the right angel?”

“You’re not as innocent as I thought.”

“Give me a break. I caught my best bud watching porn and got scarred for life.” Sungchan rubbed your clit. “Ended up searching up things, and finding out about the real world.” You stopped his hand to focus on your train of thoughts.

“Porn isn’t the real thing. Most of the time it’s staged,” you brought his hand back to your core, letting him continue his actions.

“Noted,” Sungchan said before kissing you. “How about we do the real thing then?” Sungchan pushed you down, pulling the towel off your body. “I always knew you were beautiful, but I didn’t know you were this beautiful.”

Sungchan kissed you again, pulling away only to kiss down your body, mimicking the way you would leave love bites on him.

He spread your legs apart, positioning himself in between them. Sungchan inserts two fingers in you to stretch you out, licking you up when a glob of your arousal seeps out of your dripping hole. You moaned, gripping his hair. 

“Faster, angel,” Sungchan moves his fingers faster, sucking your clit to please you. He moved his hips, humping his bed at the same pace as fingers moving in and out of you. All your remaining patience burst at the sight. “Take your clothes off, angel.”

You didn’t have to tell Sungchan twice. He was just as desperate as you.

He pulled off his clothes at lightning speed, positioning himself in between your legs. Sungchan took a hold of his dick, gliding it in between your folds to lubricate it. You both moaned at the feeling.

“You’re so wet…”

Carefully, Sungchan prod your hole with the head of his cock, you took a sharp intake of air at the stretch. Sungchan groaned on top of you, leaning forward to penetrate you deep. The glint of the cross around his neck catches your attention, the pendant hitting the bridge of your nose as Sungchan moves closer to you.

“Fuck, angel… feel so full,” you bit your lip to stop another moan from coming out of you, placing your hands on Sungchan’s broad shoulders.

“Uhm… I’m halfway in…”

Your eyes widened. No way. You knew Sungchan was big but you didn’t expect him to be this big.

You both look down at where you two were connected, moaning at the sight. He wasn’t lying. He was indeed halfway in.

You felt Sungchan’s dick twitch.

“Do you feel turned on watching me struggle to take in your dick?” You bring your gaze back to his eyes.

“Kind of…”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasped when you felt Sungchan force a few inches in.

“What was that?” He grinned, you glared at him. Sungchan bit his lips, carefully moving out of you. He held your thighs open to keep you in place when moving into you, slowly letting you adjust to his size. You were moaning while squirming around the bed, not expecting Sungchan to be in so deep. His dick was unlike others you’ve taken before; throbbing with need, veiny, thick, and long.

It was heaven.

“Need you to move, angel,” you were too far gone, drunk at the feeling of his cock filling and stretching you up, mind hazy with need.

Sungchan complied to your request, he wrapped your legs around him, positioning his hands beside your head so he could thrust harder into you.

He moved his hips forward thrusting into you harshly, whining at the feeling of you wrapping him tightly. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with the feeling of his big cock moving in and out of you. You opened your eyes, feeling something cold touch the tip of your nose, revealing Sungchan’s cross necklace dangling in front of you.

“How are you so good with this? Aren’t you a little virgin?”

“I practiced with my pillow, thinking it was you.”

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the thought of Sungchan desperately fucking a pillow. The image pushing you to the edge as you came, fluid gushing out of you as you mewled. Sungchan continued thrusting in and out of you, holding your waist and burying his head at the crook of your neck. His pace started slowing down after he came inside you, riding out the both of your highs.

Sungchan laid on top of you as you both catched your breaths. Once his breathing was even, he lay down beside you, pulling you on top of him. You cuddled into him, feeling his hand move around your body, tracing patterns on your skin.

“Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?” Sungchan pecks your right eyelid, twirling the strands of your hair with his fingers.

I love your eyes. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. No one has ever told you they liked your fiery eyes. Moreover, no one has ever told you they loved your eyes. You were speechless.

You let Sungchan play with your hair, tracing the lines of his abdomen in turn.

“Did it hurt when you were turned into a devil?” At your questioning look he added, “I read somewhere that the process of becoming a devil brings unbearable pain to an angel’s body. You were once an angel too…” Sungchan strokes your cheeks, pushing your hair behind your ear.

For some reason, you felt something break in you. You were once an angel too. The warmth of Sungchan’s body engulfing you was enough to comfort you.

“I can’t really remember. Our memories were wiped clean the moment we turned to devils. Why do you ask?”

“I just… You don’t deserve it, that’s all.”

“I’m glad you think that way, angel.”

“Do I really have to go?” You groaned, kicking your feet in the air. You were laying down on the couch when you overheard Sungchan talking to his dad.

“Yes. My dad wants to know how you’re doing and I haven’t been to church lately,” Sungchan answered as he placed the dirty dishes in the sink.

“Huh, I wonder why…” you sat up to look at him teasingly. Sungchan grins, wiping his hands on the cloth hanging at the oven door handle, walking towards you.

“Because a certain devil has me wrapped around their fingers, now I’m following whatever they say,” Sungchan bops your nose with his index finger, making you smile. “Not right now, though, because I actually have to tend to my angel duties.”

“Boring,” you sighed.

“You need to come with me,” Sungchan whined.

“Fine. Stop your whining, it’s unbecoming,” you roll your eyes.

“Wait— you’re not gonna burst into flames when we enter the church right?” Sungchan said worriedly.

“No, dumbass. I used to be an angel, remember?”

“Oh…” Sungchan lifts you up from the couch. “Let’s go get ready then.”

The two of you didn’t take too long to get ready, rushing to Sungchan’s car, to be on time. Once you arrived at the church you felt shivers run along your spine, the chills in your body worsened when you came face to face with Sungchan’s dad.

You exchange pleasantries with him, staying silent and letting Sungchan do most of the talking, as you obviously didn’t know what the hell they were talking about. 

“Hey, dad. I think I should show her around, she hasn’t been here before,” Sungchan said after his father asked something church related. Nice save.

“Well I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Sungchan’s dad smiled, walking off to the other end of the church.

On the contrary to your beliefs, and who or what you were, the place was beautiful. High ceiling, lots of windows, oak wood adorning the pews; it should look like any other church but this one was breathtaking.

Sungchan started walking and you followed suit, he then started pointing out rooms and other uninteresting things while walking. You frowned. You didn’t think he would actually give you a tour of the church.

Once you went back to the main area of the church, he directed you at the back near the entrance, where a few other doors were lined near the candles section. You wondered what was behind all of the closed doors in front of you.

You took a peak of Sungchan who was busy lighting up the candles. Curiosity got the best of you as you slowly strolled to the direction of the closed doors, opening one and going in.

It wasn’t anything special, just a dark confined room that is connected to another with a divider.

“This is the confession room,” you looked behind you to see Sungchan standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the open door. He looked around before closing the door shut, joining you inside the confined space. He moved closer to your body, towering over you as he placed his hands on your waist. “This is where angels confess their sins.” Sungchan whispered, placing a kiss under your ears.

“Hm… well I have a confession to make.” You looked up at him, even in the dark Sungchan looked good; white buttoned up shirt hugging his broad shoulders, with the sleeves rolled up, showcasing his veiny arms you love so much. “You look absolutely hot right now, and I want you to fuck me now.”

Sungchan chuckled. “Well, it’s your lucky day.”

Sungchan pulls you close to him, kissing you deeply. You pulled on his pants, unzipping it and pulling his dick out, you moved your hand up and down while he moved your panties aside, inserting two fingers inside you.

“I love this dress,” Sungchan kissed your forehead, spinning you around so that you were facing the door. Through the door, you could see the altar through the dotted holes adorning the top of the door. You felt Sungchan wrap his left arm around your waist, his fingers still inside you slowly moving in and out. The warmth of his dick twitches behind you, touching your lower back as he holds you close. “Make sure you stay quiet, darling.”

Sungchan pulls his fingers out of you, replacing it with his angry dick. You squealed at the stretch, both of your hands moving to cover your mouth. You look straight ahead, getting a glimpse of the structures on the altar.

“I’m sorry…” you said, muffled. Sungchan lightly laughs as he wraps both of his arms around you, lifting you up. Sungchan leans his back at the wall behind him, experimentally moving you up and down his cock. At your muffled moan he moves you faster, the skin of your ass hitting the skin of his thighs.

“You’re so wet…” Sungchan groaned, biting his lips to keep himself quiet.

Your eyes roll at the back of your head when Sungchan hits a particular spot, letting out a louder moan that seeps past your hands. Sungchan panicky moves his right hand to cover your mouth, his hands big enough to cover both of your hands. He shushes you, rubbing your clit with his other hand. How the fuck is he holding you up with one hand? You clenched around him, making him groan.

“Almost close?” Sungchan whispered, you nodded as an answer, not trusting yourself of not making a noise when you removed your hands to speak. “Cum for me, darling.”

You came all over Sungchan, him following after. As you both catch your breaths, Sungchan holds you close to him, still inside you as he whispered again.

“I have another confession to make, I want to fuck you again.”

Life had never treated Sungchan better than the last few months he was with you.

The both of you had been seeing each other weekly, whether it be to fuck or just to hang out, Sungchan enjoyed your company.

You were surprised at how needy Sungchan was, always wanting to be close to you or touching you at any given moment.

Sungchan was calling Ningning less and less as your ‘relationship’ with him progressed, coming up with excuses like having to help out his father to avoid her calls.

Sungchan woke up from the brightness of the sunlight, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. He read the clock on top of his bedside table, not surprised at the time.

Beside him, you were sprawled out in his bed, wearing nothing but his shirt, sleeping peacefully. The sunlight highlighted your body. Sungchan smiled, kissing your forehead before he got up. He grabbed a shirt to wear on his way out, messing up his already messy hair.

He went to the kitchen, catching a glimpse of his reflection through the window. You truly do enjoy leaving love bites. Why is it so cold today?

Sungchan shivered, returning to his bedroom to put on a hoodie, peeking at you as he put on the hoodie you love so much on him. As if you sensed his presence, you rolled to your side, to face him.

“Why are you up so early?” You mumbled, sleepily.

“It’s noon, darling,” Sungchan crawled to his bed, wrapping his arms around you. He inspected your face for any discomfort that you might have after last night’s escapades. “You alright?”

“Tired..” you yawned, wrapping your arms around Sungchan.

“Oh…”

You snuggled into Sungchan, enjoying his warmth. The two of you stayed like that for a while.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll go get it,” Sungchan kissed your forehead again before walking to the direction of his front door. He didn’t expect any visitors today so it might be someone delivering his package. As he swung the door open, shock infiltrated his senses after seeing who was behind the door.

Ningning.

“Surprise, Love!”

Oh, it was a surprise for Sungchan indeed.

© snoowpee | DO NOT COPY OR REPOST.

[thebellearchives]

𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 🔞 minors dni

~ asmodeus ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : Asmodeus’ thoughts run wild when he sees you dancing at a party

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : asmo x fem!mc, smut, oral (fem receiving), major switch behaviour from asmo, consumption of alcohol, mentions of drugs and tobacco

‧₊˚ a / n : definitely did not expect Asmo to be the second character I’d write smut for but yeah, here’s this piece i was talking about in that poll ~

Everything was hazy in your eyes, your memory had gradually become short-termed. The beat of the bass through the speakers banging against your eardrums dictating the moves of your body. You were unaware of the time, but you did know you had danced with several people throughout the night. Your skin had felt sticky with sweat and spilled liquor at some point but that was now forgotten in the middle the clinking of demonus glasses and demons singing to the music. You drank more from your vodka glass bottle, which Asmo had been kind enough to bring to the party considering you couldn’t get drunk off demonus.

The avatar of lust had been staring at you for a while. Lost in the sea of bodies it had been difficult for the rest of the brothers to find you and hog you all to themselves, but Asmodeus had been very careful to keep you nearby. His honey eyes sliding from your alcohol-drenched shiny lips to your cleavage, making their way down to the skin tight black dress, the way it hugged your breasts, your waist, your thighs... the demon felt jealous. Maybe he should help you get rid of it, the fact that your dress was grasping your body and he wasn’t was unthinkable to him.

Asmodeus wasn’t one to daydream, he would usually just go for it. He saw someone he liked? He wouldn’t wait a heartbeat to bat his lashes, buy them a drink, flirt here and there, see how far could he take things without making use of his charming abilities. It was all a game to him, and if he performed well enough you bet he’d get a nice price at the end of the night. And right now, there was nothing in the three realms he wanted more than a prize coming from you, but he was just so mesmerized by the swaying of your hips that he couldn’t move. He thought about getting closer to you through the multitude and scent of minted tobacco, he’d pull you away from that group of nobodies you were dancing with. Bump into your body and blame it on the amount of people in the dance floor, hold you from your hips to keep you steady.

“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” he’d smile, but he wouldn’t take his hands off, pressing you against him from your lower back.

He imagines you’d give in to him, because who wouldn’t? He had those hypnotizing eyes that could make you melt into his smooth arms, your hands would trail up to his neck. His mind could visualize so clearly the way you’d flutter your lashes to look up to him, your tongue would dart out and slide across your lower lip. Were you thirsty for more alcohol? Maybe for a taste of him? He for sure was thirsty of you. And he’d lean in to inhale your enticing scent from under your jawline, his breathing making you shiver in his arms. His fingers would try and find their way under your dress, but as soon as his fingertips had the chance to catch a graze of glory you’d hitch a breath and pull him from his shirt.

“Not here” your whisper tinged with mischief, his senses would get filled with that smell he knew oh so well: lust.

Sweet, intoxicating smell of sin that would make his head spin in delirium. So you’d make your way out of the crowd in each others arms, skin stuck on skin on such a dense atmosphere filled with narcotics and liquor no one would even notice the way the personification of lust would pull from your waist, tempting you into the pits of unmeasurable pleasure. He’d like to think he’d be leading a little lamb to join him in the point of no return but he knows you wouldn’t be such a sweet little innocent girl. Because he can picture you hanging around his neck like a diamond. And fuck, wasn’t he weak to such expensive and beautiful things.

Your eyes would pursue his until you’d find a dark empty room somewhere, you’d crush your lips onto his and he’d ram you against the wall. The taste of vodka in your tongue driving him mad, he’d accidentally scratch your arms and you’d let out a pained, erotic whine that would only fuel his desire for more. He could only imagine all the different sounds he could pull out that pretty mouth of yours. You’d bite his lips in search of more of that aphrodisiac venom dripping from his mouth and he’d give in so quickly, wishing for you to show him what you got planned for him. Your hands gripping his shoulders and pushing him to the floor, hovering over him and your knees at each side of his hips. He’d slide down the zipper of your dress only for you to sit up above him and slide it down your body. Amber eyes would revel in your beauty and feel like the world is in his arms. He’d be so impatient as to finally know what it would feel like to be yours, but oh wouldn’t he like to let you know what if feels like to be his too, the narcissism and desire fighting inside of him. So the demon would change his mind, quickly wrapping his arms around you and rolling to the side so he’d be the one on top. Getting rid of your clothes was conflicting to him, he wanted to do it slowly so he could really enjoy it, but he was just so bewitched by your panting that at that point any fabric was just an annoyance. He’d pin your wrists to the floor and taste your skin from your neck to your clavicles, enjoying every single bit of the shaky reactions of your body. His tongue would swirl around one of your nipples, and he’d set free one of your wrists to make sure he’d give fair attention to the other one. More whines would come tumbling down from your lips like a siren song, driving him crazy with every single note. But he wouldn’t linger, the moment your head would give in and softly hit the floor he’d move on, his hot breath trailing your feverish skin down to your sensitive spot. For a moment, he wouldn’t resist a bit of teasing, and he’d make sure you feel his breath hesitate. His name leaving your lips in an almost religious plead would make him chuckle, but he’d reward you for pronouncing his name in such a needy whimper, so his wet tongue would then slide across your folds, making the muscles of your belly tense and contract, a breathy and high pitched moan whistling out of your throat. Your fingers tugging from his champagne-coloured locks, his arms holding your thighs firmly in place, his tongue lapping unmercifully, your back arching and desperate moans echoing through the pitch dark room until you end up clawing at the floor and he can taste the flavour of your orgasm, drinking it up as if it were the demonus in his cup.

Oh, right, there was still demonus in his cup. And you were still there dancing with unknown demons. He shook his head to come back down to earth, careful not to let his thoughts drift along the curves of your dancing body again. He walked up to your group and pretended to accidentally bump into you.

“You okay there, Mc? Don’t fall!” his wide smile greeted you, and his hands on your hips made sure to keep you steady.

“Yeah, thanks” you giggled, your lashes fluttered upwards in search of his eyes.

Oh, he has such hypnotizing eyes you thought, almost melting into his arms.

[tiktokonaclock]

The Siren and The Demon Chapter 9

Note: Sorry for the late update. This cooperate job is kicking my ass lmao. However, the next chapter will be out shortly because it is currently ready to read, I just need to type it on docs. I love you all.

 

It was perhaps the first time Zenet had ever seen the expression of emotion on the emperor’s face.

 His jaw dropped as Dharak flew up in the air. He turned to the ball-shaped creature and they looked at each other for a few seconds. Then Barodius turned his head to the young girl again.

“Zenet, I am going to need to see some proof.”

 Zenet nodded and took her phone out of her pocket. She made a phone call and put it on the dial, holding it in front of her face. Barodius ordered her to come closer with his hand and leaned forward.

 The phone rang a few times as Zenet audibly blew her breath out, trying to slow down her heart’s beating.

“Yes Zenet?”

“Dad?”

 Gill went silent for a split second, which made Barodius think: Could she have lied?

“Zenet, how many times must I tell you not to call me that? What if I wasn’t alone?”

“I am sorry.” Zenet backed down immediately as she watched Barodius’ jaw drop once again. Gill sighed.

“You can call me dad when we are alone, but you need to be sure that we are alone. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.”

“How are you?”

“Fine. I called because I- I am going to come a little late to your place tonight.”

“When are you going to be there?”

“Like, around 10 pm.”

“Why?”

“I need to do a little bit of shopping.”

“Okay then.”

“See you, bye.”

It was Gill who hung up. Barodius looked at Zenet. Carefully, for the first time.

How could he have not realized it? It was obvious! The eyes, the chin, the tiger-like way she walked even. Features of his very best friend. How could he be so blind?

“How?” was the only thing he could verbally ask.

She shrugged. “Life happens, I suppose.”

“Tell me the story, from the beginning. When did you find out who your father was?”

“I kind of always knew. My mom had shown him to me when he was on TV.”

“You had a mother? Then why did you end up in an orphanage?”

“They took me away from her.”

“Why?”

“I…I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Zenet, I will ask Gill to fill me up on details if you don’t. Would you like that?” He asked, eyes fully open and fixated on her.

Zenet’s voice shivered. “No sire. I would not.”

“Then continue.”

“I… She had trouble with substance abuse. Alcohol, heavy drugs. All of that stuff.”

“Where is she now? Is she alive?”

“I don’t know, sire.”

How could Gill have slept with a woman like that?

“Do you know how they met?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t they send you off to live with Gill instead of the orphanage?”

They tried that first but he didn’t accept it.”

Wow. Just wow.

“Is this why you joined the army? To have access into his life?”

“No. I joined the army because military school was relatively easier to get into and it was a boarding school. So I would not end up on the streets when I turned 15 and got kicked out of the orphanage.”

“They just kick you out when you turn 15?”

Zenet looked at the emperor as if he were an alien. Was he that ignorant about the life conditions of the empire he ruled?

“Yes, they do.” She said, putting all her acting skills to use to mask her anger. “No place to stay, no money, no nothing.” She made a gesture with her hand. “My career choices were either military or prostitution. So here we are. I don’t have a sneaky master plan to ruin Gill’s life.”

“Military and prostitution,” Barodius repeated slowly. She almost said same thing but held her tongue.

“What else is that bastard hiding from me?!” He asked. She held out her hands. 

 He looked away, thinking. After a moment of silence, he turned to her.

“Spy on him for me. And I will make sure you don’t end up like the others. Find something useful, and I will reward you.”

A faint smile appeared on Zenet’s lips as she quickly bowed.

“Yes sire. As you command.”

 Ren needed to sit this one out. Her dad did not understand it, so she had to put her skills to use.

 Yet, she was slipping. It took Gill and his partner a short time to figure out who she was.

 “What is the meaning of this, Zenet?” he asked. “I told you to stay away!”

 “I know I know! I just wanted another shot with those brawlers, y’know? Please, just give me this one chance.” She looked around and checked the door before lowering her voice. “Are you going to deny your daughter of this?”

 Well, at least she got more considerate of their secret this time.

 “Fine. But you better not mess it up.”

 She exhaled. “Oh, thank you!”

 Before leaving the main room to investigate the rest of the ship, she sat on the stairs climbing to Gill’s throne-like seat. She put her elbows on her knees as they sat there in silence.

 There was something peaceful about sitting together in silence. In their brief meetings, they would normally always have something to discuss or dispute over.

 Zenet could not help but imagine another life in which they had a proper father-daughter relationship instead of…whatever this is.

 In that life, this environment would probably be a home setting. Maybe the living room, or Gill’s study. She would be reading a book, or studying. And her dad would be working, or serving himself a drink maybe. And there would be silence, similar to this one yet much less tense.

 In that life, Zenet would have a family.

 It was a total disaster!

 She had found nothing on the ship. Absolutely nothing! And as the cherry on top, they had lost to the brawlers! Zenet wanted to choke that bastard they call Shun!

 “That’s it! It’s over! I’m done for!”

 She was sitting on the floor again. But this time, she was alone with her partner.

 “Gill wouldn't-” He tried to say. “He wouldn’t. Right? You are his daughter!”

 “I wish I could say he wouldn’t.”

“Maybe we can talk ourselves out of this. I am sure we can reason with him. At the end of the day, who is more of a natural ally for him than you?” 

 She bowed her head. “I am not good enough, he saw that today. He won't help me.”

 “Would he be so cruel?”

 “You are forgetting we are Gundalian. We are not down with this loyalty thing.”

 “I suppose not.”

 She looked at Contestir with ambition burning bright, like a couple of stars in her eyes. “I figured that out about us a long time ago, Constestir. That’s why I applied to be a slipper agent in the first place.” Her shoulders fell off. “I want to be powerful. I want to have enough power to protect myself so that I would never need anybody’s loyalty to save me. You understand?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“” That’s what makes us different from the humans. Things like friendship and loyalty mean something to the humans Contestir. The only time we want to work together is when we want to mess someone up. And if you don’t have anybody to have your back, that’s pretty much all you can do.”

“To have power?”

“Exactly. Power, control, money.” She shook her head. “That’s what you should be aiming for if you want to survive in here. More than just to survive, if you want to be seen, heard, or respected. I-” She hesitated for a split second. “I will become someone. Someone who would never be kicked out of anywhere. Never.”

 Not even by Gill. Contestir wanted to add but held his tongue.

Of course, he would make her spy on Kazarina. Of course.

She tried better with the act this time. She remembered what Jesse taught her about acting, Your act should convince you before anyone else. Let loose. Being to aware of the fact that one is acting spoils one’s entire performance.

 Lucky for her, the old hag was so full of herself to realize that she was talking to an impostor.

“Seriously? Those two are planning on overthrowing the emperor?”

“I know right? Can you believe it? Those two are so sneaky!” She bubbled. Her enthusiasm faded as she realized Gill’s attitude towards the news. “And why do you look like that?” She asked.

“Like what?”

“Like you have been betrayed! I thought you would be more excited about all of this.”

“I am.” He said, with the grin that appeared on his lips. “You have done very well, Zenet.”

“Thank you. I am ready for my next assignment sir.” She smiled. “Master Gill.”

 The expression froze on her face as she realized his hand in the air. The red light started to crackle between his fingers. Her eyes opened widely.

“Gill!”

Gill’s face turned to panic as they both looked at the emperor, who appeared on the big screen.

Zenet turned his head down as she let her breath out.

“Yes, sire?”

“You don’t touch that girl, do you understand me?”

“But-”

“I said, do you understand me?”

Gill hesitated for a second. “I do.”

“Good.” Barodius hung up without feeling the need to explain himself any further. Gill turned to Zenet, whose torso was slightly bent over, palms touching her knees as she tried to regulate her breath. Her head was down. And without lifting it, she looked up at him.

Her eyes frightened him.

He had made a big mistake.

“What did you do?” He asked with a low voice, trying his best to hide his fear and look intimidating. “What did you do to make him look out for you?”

No use. She was not scared.

It was his turn to be scared now.

She straightened up. “It is none of your business, Gill.”

“Of course it is my business!” He got up from his seat and came closer.

“I am not going to explain myself to you. Why should I? You have never been a father to me! You fucking left me in an orphanage to fuck off and live your best life! You have no right to ask me anything! I can do whatever the fuck I need to do!”

“Zenet, I am going to ask you one more time: What the hell did you do?!”

“Get the fuck out of my face, you son of a bitch!”

The smacking sound of the slap she felt across her face hung in the air, suddenly cutting the screaming match like a knife.

Her hand went to her cheek. It burnt like hellfire, and the skin had already gotten red.

He slowly moved forward. “Zenet…” He tried to say. But she stepped back, raging. “Fuck off.” She cursed once again. Her eyes, which were ironically identical to his, stared deep into his soul.

“You are going to pay for this.”

[ninja-muse]

March was a productive month, and not just because I read a good number of books. I also started writing again after a bit of a slump, and I managed to unhaul 37 books from my home library, though some of them have not actually left the house yet. The used bookstore I went to didn't take everything so I have to decide which one I'm hitting next. Or if I'm dumping the bulk on a thrift store because let's be honest, most used bookstores aren't going to want what's left either.

Can you tell I got rid of that many? Only if you saw the state of things before. My shelves are neat and tidy with no books wedged on top of other books to make things fit.

And I was so, so close to ending the month without buying more books! I really thought I was going to manage it! And then, well, I mentioned the used bookstore, right? I've been meaning to read Delaney but few bookstores stock him, and Lincoln's Dreams is one of the only Connie Willis novels I don't own. (That shop also had stickers, and a cute bookmark I can't show you because whiting out the identifying features would ruin the effect.) Under the Smokestrewn Sky was a rescue, of sorts. Why return it to the publisher when you could just buy it, right?

Anyway, in terms of books read, there were some really good ones! And only one that was not so great. I think I'm done reading and collecting Rat Queens and might need to include those in the next unhaul. And don't get me wrong about the Evie Dunmore. It is a Good Historical Romance Novel. There's just something about it that didn't work for me.

Click through to see everything I read this month, in the rough order of how glad I was to have read them.

I Love Russia - Elena Kostyuchenko, translated by Bela Shayevich and Ilona Yazhbin Chavasse

Portraits and memories of the unsung Russia—the poor, the broken, the marginalized.

10/10

🏳️‍🌈 author

warnings: so many, including but not limited to misogyny, homophobia, genocide, violence, sexual violence, drugs and alcohol, abuse, child death, suicide

reading copy

True North - Andrew J. Graff

The Brechts move to Michigan to restart a rafting business. They hope it’ll save their family, but it might do the opposite.

7.5/10

Menominee secondary character

library book

Sociopath - Patric Gagne

As a child, Patric knew something about her was off and kept countering a lack of feeling with dark acts. As a young woman, she learns the definition of “sociopath” and it changes everything. Out in April.

8/10

neurodivergent author

To a Darker Shore - Leanne Schwartz

When the invention that should have guaranteed Alesta's future fails, her best friend takes the fall and is sacrificed to the demon besieging their kingdom. To rescue him, Alesta must descend into hell, where she learns truths about her society—and her gods. Out in April.

8/10

fat protagonist, autistic main character, major autistic secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters, autistic author

warning: classism, strict religion, autism-related ableism

reading copy

The Temple of Fortuna - Elodie Harper

Amara’s living as a courtesan in Rome but misses her lover and daughter in Pompeii. When she returns to the city, her needs and desires are sent into turmoil—and Vesuvius has started to rumble.

8/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic), Ethiopian secondary characters

warning: misogynist society, sexual violence, slave society

Funny Story - Emily Henry

What do you do when your partners dump you for each other? Move in together, of course! Out in April.

7.5/10

Iranian-American secondary character, Black secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (sapphic)

warning: toxic relationships, mainly in backstory

reading copy

Welcome to the Hyunam-Dong Bookshop - Hwang Bo-reum, translated by Shanna Tan

Tired of fulling expectations, Yeongju opens a bookshop. She’s not the only one to find happiness there.

7.5/10

Korean cast, Korean author

library ebook

Aftermarket Afterlife - Seanan McGuire

The Covenant has started actively pursuing the Prices and their allies, and all Mary wants to do is protect her family.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 secondary characters (lesbian, gay, bi man), Korean-American secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 author

warning: canon-typical violence, bigots

library ebook

Knife Skills for Beginners - Orlando Murrin

Paul Delamare is filling in for a friend at a cooking school when a body is found on the premises.

6.5/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (gay), Black British secondary character, 🏳️‍🌈 secondary character (sapphic)

reading copy

Let Them Tremble - Wolf Epley

The revolution is brewing and both the workers and the government refuse bend. Throw in a destroyed print shop, ghosts, and malfunctioning Shroud devices, and you know things won’t end well.

7/10

major disabled character (partial blindness, limp, hand disfigurement), cast largely of non-racialized colour

won/digital reading copy

The Gentleman’s Gambit - Evie Dunmore

Catriona needs to avoid distractions to write her book but is pressed to help her father’s new colleague around Oxford. Elias needs her help if he ever hopes to smuggle antiquities out of the Ashmolean.

7/10

🏳️‍🌈 protagonist (bi woman), Lebanese love interest, Lebanese secondary character

warning: colonial/orientalist characters

library book

Rat Queens, Vol. 5 - Kurtis J. Wiebe with Owen Gieni (illustrator)

Palisade’s problems continue, including hallucinations, a hipster bar, and a sinister wizard.

6/10

major Black character, major 🏳️‍🌈 character (lesbian), 🇨🇦

off my TBR shelves

Children’s Books

Penelope Rex and the Problem with Pets - Ryan Higgins

Mittens hogs the bed, eats from the trash, and causes all kinds of trouble—and Penelope didn’t even want them!

Currently reading

I’m Afraid You’ve Got Dragons - Peter S. Beagle

Robert doesn’t want to be the country’s dragon exterminator on the best of days, but then Princess Cerise meets Prince Reginald. Out in May.

reading copy

Music from the Earliest Notations to the Sixteenth Century - Richard Taruskin

A history of early written European music, in its social and political contexts.

The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle

Victorian detective stories

disabled POV character (limb injury), occasional Indian secondary characters

warning: racism, colonialism

Monthly total: 12 Yearly total: 32 Queer books: 4 Authors of colour: 1 Books by women: 8 Authors outside the binary: 0 Canadian authors: 1 Classics: 0 Off the TBR shelves: 1 Books hauled: 3 ARCs acquired: 5 ARCs unhauled: 7 DNFs: 0

January February

[wildestdreamcatcher]

Egos

Summary: Cleo and Elijah have an argument

TW: Mentions of drug and alcohol, arguing, mentions of childhood trauma, angst, 1088 words

A/N: I got the story idea from these 2 asks: a and b

I sat at the kitchen table, head in my hands and wiping tears of anger and frustration. Elijah and I were arguing, an occurrence all too common now. I wasn’t even sure what we were arguing about this time but we were both already on edge after I caught Jude refilling the wine bottles with grape juice and Elijah found pill bottles sitting on Jude’s desk that bought off one of his new weird ass friends. I don’t know how the argument between us started but all I know is that we pissed each other off. Elijah kept pushing his anger down instead of just saying what he fucking thought, so he just sounded passive the whole time. That was until we got a call that Jude had been arrested for the second time in 2 months and he needed to be bailed out. I wasn’t going to bail him out, maybe spending the night in jail would freak him but then again I wonder if he could even feel fear anymore. Oddly enough Elijah was the one to bail Jude out again but I think it was only to avoid the argument. Now I’m sitting here at the fucking table, waiting for Elijah to get home and I feel stupid for some reason. 

When he came home, he just let Jude walk up to his bedroom. Jude slammed his bedroom door and let this guttural, demonic scream. He did that a lot now and it scared the shit out of me every single time. I looked at Elijah in pure astonishment. 

“You’re just going to let him walk away?” I was so glad Marley had decided to stay at a friend's house today and Jude was most definitely passed out asleep in his room right now. Things were only going to get messier tonight. 

“I don’t wanna have this fucking fight anymore, Cleo. Just drop it until tomorrow!” 

“Why? So you can be passive-aggressive and bottle up all of your anger until things get worse just like you did tonight?! Would that be easier for you?!” I yelled as he rolled his eyes at me. 

“What do you want me to fucking do? It’s like you’re begging me to be angry with you!! I’m not gonna blow up at you, Cleo. I’m not going to start acting like my parents!” 

I knew it felt odd but I wanted Elijah to just say how he really felt during his arguments so if those feelings were anger, then yeah, I did want him to express that! He was perfect in every way but that was the one thing in the 16 years we’ve been together, he’d rather leave arguments unresolved instead of showing emotions because he didn’t want to be like his parents. But we would never, be like that. 

“You’re not going to be like your parents if you get mad, Elijah! I promise. And yeah, whatever you say during this fight might piss me off, it might make me angry but we’ll figure it out! Right now, I’m pleading with you to show me some kind of feeling instead of being stone-cold and hiding this side of you. In the past few months, I’ve been so fucking stupid and confused! I know Jude keeps making me look like a fool in front of you and I know you still think I’m being too lenient with him, and maybe people were right when they said I’d be a bad mom but right now I’m begging you to just tell me how you feel even if it hurts me to my core! I” I knew I had a few tears running down my eyes earlier, but now it feels like I’m fucking bawling. I pushed Elijah’s hand down when he tried to wipe the tears from my eyes. I sounded erratic, we both knew it, and I hated it. He frantically hugged me like everything would collapse if he didn’t and maybe it would. I pulled away as he held me, everything felt too overwhelming. I headed to the bedroom, praying to god he didn’t follow me in just yet and that I’d stop crying when he did. 

I felt horrible when Cleo and I started arguing but now I felt even worse for her listening to her muffled sobs in the bedroom. I wanted to chase after her and apologize immediately after she walked away but I knew her well enough to know, she didn’t want to be chased down yet. I was mad at the beginning, we both were, but she never hid how she felt. She was always open and honest about her feelings at all times, even if it was anger but I don’t know how to express that without wanting to die. I don’t want to be like my parents: I don’t want to argue with Cleo to the point where she resents me and has an affair every week, I don’t want my kids to hate me and be scared that anything they do could set Cleo and I off at any moment, I don’t want them to feel like they need to move out as soon as possible. 

I paced in front of our bedroom as she cried and it felt like forever had passed, but it had only been 30 minutes. I walked into the room: she was lying across the bed trying to muffle her sobs as she cried in the dark. She turned on the lamp which exposed her tearstained face and bloodshot eyes. She nodded yes and held my hand when I asked if we could talk, tracing the pattern on my wedding band. 

“Cleo if I’ve ever made you feel like you were less than, that you were an idiot, made you think you were a bad mother or wife, if I ever made you feel bad at anything I want to apologize. I love you more than anything and every time I see you it feels like our souls are intertwined forever. You’re everything to me I don’t know what I would do without whether that’s parenting or simply just existing. And yes, I was mad earlier and I’m sorry for not expressing my feelings. I just don’t want to make you feel like shit just because I’m angry. You deserve nothing but the best and that’s all I want to give to you. I love you, Cleo.”

I lay beside her as she started to lay on my chest, pulling the duvet over us. 

@blowflygrls @sadlonelyyogurt @vommitgirl

[nixie-writes]

Hazbin Cast Meeting Their Child From Life

I covered all the characters I could think of a good plot for. I don't plan on doing a second part for this, I tried to do it all in one swoop. But if there's any characters I excluded that anyone has a plot for, I'll be happy to do an extra part. Under the cut for length and trigger warnings. Gender neutral terms used, will be tagged. TW: Murder mention, drug mention, sex mention, alcohol mention

Alastor - Up until his death, he'd been very involved in his child's life. He taught them how to hunt, he taught them self defense and he taught them how to kill, if necessary. - He always hoped to never meet them in Hell, admittedly. He wanted them to do better than he did and find their way to heaven. Avoid the whole "sins of the father" trope. - Upon actually meeting his child in Hell, he's happy to see they're okay but he's disappointed. Both because his kid is in Hell with him, and because his kid sees him like this, for the serial killer he is. - But now that he's been reunited with his kid, he's going to make sure they're safe under any circumstance. He knows they can take care of themselves - he taught them everything they know - but he can't risk losing his child for eternity.

Angel Dust - Another dad who was very involved in his kid's life up until his death. Granted, he adopted his kid but they were still his kid either way. Because he was so involved in the mafia and drugs, he was emotionally distant but always supportive of their endeavors, and tried to keep them away from his father. - Angel knew they would end up in Hell admittedly. He led his kid down that path himself, so it was just a matter of waiting. He kept up his mafia work and drug work down in Hell and, as everyone knows, became a sex worker. He met his kid again in less favorable circumstances. - It was a drug deal gone bad with one of Valentino's crime partners. Many of them were shot down and Angel was aiming for the head of a demon in particular, another arachnid demon, and it hit him like a brick. They looked so familiar because this was his kid! - Upon reuniting with his kid he tries to set a better example, getting off the drugs and keeping his sex work on the down low. He isn't really picky about what his kid gets up to in their spare time, just as long as they come to see him from time to time...And stay far away from Valentino. - In the event his kid was gay as well (cis or trans male, or enby with attraction only to men) he'd be over the moon to know he and his kid had even more in common; he'd teach his kid about safe sex and greatly discourage any form of sex work. Of course, matching gay clothes and attending pride parades together, all the fun stuff.

Husk - Unlike others, he lost his kid before he died himself. It's part of the reason he spiraled into alcoholism. When he arrived in Hell he truly believed his kid had been granted mercy and went to heaven, and he was happy for them. - However, before their tragic passing he taught them a lot about gambling, and how to hold their liquor. So it was expected he'd meet them again in a seedy bar. They were double shooting two fireball shots at a table surrounded by other demons, each with a pair of cards, visibly playing Poker. - When he joined to drink and gamble he was surprised to see this demon getting the same drinks he always got them when they were alive, even pulling the same card tricks he taught his kid when they were alive. - He'd casually ask their name and he'd receive his kid's name, followed by him asking if they knew someone by his living name. They'd respond with a fond yes, reminiscing on their father who taught them to gamble, drink and be a responsible adult, lamenting on how much they missed their father...It clicked with them both at the same time. - Having met his kid again he was sad they weren't allowed in heaven but, that was no issue anymore. They were under his wing now, and he'd keep them safe at the cost of his soul. He would also keep them far, far away from Alastor.

Sir Pentious - During life he had a son he'd never met, presumably because the woman he impregnated either left him or was a sex worker. All he knew was that he had a son he never met, and he'd give anything to have another child. In fact, he had a second child he was very involved with, who was always fascinated with his little machines. Until the day he was bitten by a venomous snake and he couldn't get the antivenom in time. - In Hell, he hoped to meet either of his kids. He wanted to believe they both went to heaven but, considering the circumstances of both it didn't seem plausible. But with all the time he'd spent in Hell, he believed he should have met them by now. - It was during that famed turf war between him, Angel and Cherri that a third contender joined, on his side surprisingly. A crafty sinner who specialized in biochemical weaponry. Pentious was immediately impressed by their handiwork. - After the turf war was left as a tie, he approached his new ally and asked for a name...And froze when he heard it. His kid had been very passionate about biological weaponry when he was alive. He dared ask if they recognized him, offering his living name. When they agreed and began listing off facts about him and their relationship he could only grip them in a tight hug, he was so thankful he found at least one of his children. - While he was no Overlord yet, he vowed to keep his kid safe at all costs. Yes they were very capable of caring for themselves, they would have won the turf war had the princess not interrupted. But he still felt a fatherly duty to his child and promised to make up on lost time by putting their skill sets together to create machines and weapons that could easily win them a turf and earn him a place as Overlord.

Vox - In life he was a rich man who didn't have much time for kids, not even his own sole child. They were always distant, even throughout their teenage years and into adulthood. He tried to keep in contact with them when they grew older and could understand the world he worked in but, it was too little too late. He left his entire company and all his assets to his kid in hopes they could do better than he did. - In Hell, he became a very cold man with one priority: money. He'd do anything for it. He'd throw other sinners to the dogs for it. He's done it before. He'd fight other Overlords for a wad of cash. He didn't expect karma to bite his ass so hard. - Swiftly rising in the ranks was an Overlord who seemed just as money hungry as he was, albeit with a much kinder reputation. They had never done a single bad thing to others to earn their money, they even donated some of it to charities and orphanages for Hell-born demons. What was so different about them? - Eventually it came to a stand off. Vox against this sinner. Whoever won, would keep the money and use it as they pleased. Vox was prepared to fight tooth and claw. He was genuinely shocked when they simply stepped aside and said, "you can have it, dad". - He stopped in his tracks. He had one kid in life who hated his guts according to him and he'd never met this kid in Hell, he assumed they went to heaven. He knew this sinner's name but never questioned it until now. He gave a short series of test questions, of which they passed. - "You never had much time for me," they explained. "You were so busy ensuring your pockets were lined and I once despised you for it. But as I grew I learned how harsh the world is, and I understood the sacrifices you made to keep us in good wealth." They ushered him to the wad of cash. "You gave up so much to keep me safe, and I never understood it until I came down here. This is the least I owe you." - Vox genuinely didn't know how to respond. He was reunited with his kid and they had forgiven his cold demeanor during life, but what did this mean for his company and image going forward? They understood his concerns and agreed to keep their family relationship a secret, under the terms Vox donated portions of money to a charity of their choice, which he did. It took him going to Hell to learn to love his kid and now, he could balance his work and personal relations with a child who understood his position.

Vaggie - She died very soon after her kid was born, so her kid didn't really get to know her. They were maybe six years old when she passed. Vaggie's parents took her kid in and raised them as their own, though they never denied who their real mother was. - In Hell, Vaggie always prayed her child would get to heaven and become an angel. She never wanted to see the day her child entered the hotel looking for redemption, or worse, fell victim to drugs and sex. - She was manning the check-in counter one late evening when Angel arrived, a very drunken sinner clinging to his shoulder, in tears about a mother they never got to know. Angel only explained he didn't know where to take this sinner and asked Vaggie to let them stay the night until they sobered up and she agreed. - Through their drunk rambles they described Vaggie in perfect detail. A Latina with long brown hair and one brown eye, the other colorless and blind with a scar running down her face. Vaggie couldn't ignore the similarities and asked for more information, which confirmed the heritage. - Upon ensuring this was in fact her child, her first statement was an apology for leaving so soon. She never wanted to leave them, and was terrified for them. To see them in such a state now broke her heart. She wanted to make up for lost time, but first demanded they get some sleep in preparation for their hangover. - While they slept through the morning Vaggie explained the situation to the rest of the staff. Only Charlie was aware Vaggie had a child prior to death and was beyond excited to finally meet her extended family. They were properly introduced to Charlie who promised to take good care of them, and get them off the booze. - Vaggie knew she wasn't much of a threat herself, but she knew Charlie would always be in the corner to help if they needed it. Her kid would be safe no matter what, they had the princess of Hell as their aunt. - In the event her kid happened to be lesbian as well (trans or cis female, or enby with attraction only to women) she would be the most supportive mother and friend, always attending pride parades and wearing matching lesbian-themed clothes.

Cherri Bomb - She had a child at a young age and fought hard to provide for her kid, going as far as to get involved in organized crime to provide for her child. She died at a tragically young age, leaving her child to her only friend at the time who raised her child to know who their real mother was and to honor how hard she worked to provide for them. - In Hell, Cherri spent a long time heart broken because she was separated from her child. It wasn't until she became good friends with Angel and perfected her work with explosives that she began to feel okay again, but in the back of her mind she always remembered her child. - It would be during a battle where Cherri used high velocity explosives to win a piece of territory that she encountered a sinner around the same age she was when she died. They were timid and terrified of the bombing show and she instructed Angel to take them somewhere safer. When Angel referred to her as her name from life they perked, switching around to exclaim her name. They immediately fell into an info dump about everything they knew about their mother and how hard she worked to keep them safe, ending with a hopeful gaze asking if perhaps she was their mother. - Knowing their name and seeing their knowledge of her it was undeniable, this was her kid. She had hoped her child would find their way to heaven but it appeared they didn't. She and Angel agreed to get them somewhere safe, and later they'd catch up. - Similarly to Cherri, her child would also only have one eye, as they grew up with one thing on their mind: their departed mother.

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Someone roofying there S/o's drink

Angel dust

Angel was no stranger to the night life of hell, his years of stardom and drinking meant he knew all the best bars and clubs to go to.

Normally the two of you didn't go out together. Angel didn't want to have to deal with people bugging him while the two of you were supposed to be spending time together.

But tonight was special, so he made an exception.

He took you to one of his favourite places, it was a fairly simple place so he figured he wouldn't be bothered to much.

The two of you were having a wonderful time, talking and trading stories. Unfortunately alcohol had a bad habit going through him like a freight train. So excusing himself he ran off to the little girls room.

As he was walking back to you, however, he found you talking to another demon.

That was nothing new. He didn't know if you had gotten it from him, but you were seemingly very popular.

Kinda like someone else he knew.

But it was as he made his way to you did he see it. The demon you were talking to pointed over your shoulder, and as you looked, the bastard dropped a small pill into your drink.

Oh Fuck no!

He rushed to you, nocking the drink from your hand straight away and before you knew what was happening, Angel had a gun pressed to the guy's head.

Before you could figure out what was happening, Angel grabbed you by the arm and dragged you out of the club.

You didn't say much as he dragged you down the street, you having trouble matching his much larger pace.

You had only seen him like this a handful of times. He only ever got like this after something bad had happened.

Eventually he stopped a moment, you taking the chance to ask what that was about.

After a moment he told you what had happened, telling you all about the bastard roofying your drink. At least he hopes that's what it was.

The news shook you a little, the idea someone you where having such a pleasant conversation with tried to drug you.

You were shaken, but as shaken as you were, you could see how the whole thing had affected Angel.

He got all quiet, the spider had this thousand yard stare you didn't like. You wanted your Angel back.

Moving forward, you cupped his cheek before pulling his face down to meet your gaze. You pressed your head against his, holding the Spider demon close.

The two of you held each other close as Angel softened at your touch. You placed a kiss on his lips, the Spider pressing into the kiss, The spider pressing his body up against your own.

He spoke softly, telling you how you were his everything, telling you he just couldn't bare the idea someone taking advantage of you like that.

You held him just as close, telling him he was your everything.

You walked home together, hand in hand, holding each other close as the two of you expressed your love for each other.

Alastor

A night out with alastor wasn't exactly common. The radio demon resented most of hells night life, finding the whole thing unbearable.

So usually he preferred to stay in with you, the two of you having dinner, or curling up together with a good book.

But tonight the mood had struck and Alastor decided to take you for a night out.

Alastor had this nack for finding interesting places, and the place you went that night was no exception.

The place seemed like a simple shop, but it quickly turned into something from a mobster flick. Requiring a password to get in and everything. And by Lucifer, it was quite a sight.

Dancers, roaring jazz, classic and exciting drinks, it was all so exciting.

It was as the Radio Demon was having a delightful conversation with the owner of the establishment, a fellow southern gentleman like himself, when the conversation shifted to you.

Alastor warmly recalled your first meeting, going over your relationship, the pleasant memory causing the Radio demon to look for you in the crowd.

He found you having a conversation with another demon. You were smiling, having a lively conversation with the demon, taking a drink you looked around and found him staring.

The two of you smiled warmly to each other, you giving him a little wave, to which he blew you a kiss.

However it was as you shared this pleasant moment, that Alastor notice someone dropping something in your drink.

Breaking eye contact, he looked down just in time to see a small white pill dissolve at the bottom of your glass.

Quickly excusing himself to his new acquaintance, he materialised besides you quickly snatching your drink from your hand.

Pulling you to your feet a happily asked if you could get you both some new drinks.

Raising an eyebrow at your boyfriends strange behaviour, you agreed, Alastor giving you a quick peck on the lips before sending you on your way.

As you left, Alastor took your seat before he calmly asked the demon why he'd do such a thing.

The demon laughed, telling him you were funny, attractive and he wanted you. So he was gonna have you.

Alastor just laughed at the demons expense. He manifested his radio staff before tapped in on the floor twice. He bid the demon farewell before a large black tenticle shot out of a portal and sucked him in.

Getting up he poured your drink into a nearby potted Plant just in time for you to get back.

Taking his drink, he thanked you before he took your hand and lead you away from the table.

He quickly dismissed it when you asked where your "friend" had gone. Making up a suitable excuse.

He led you to a somewhat isolated area, an area the two of you could finish your drinks, beforw he brought you close, the two of you dancing the night away.

You danced, you talked, you had a wonderful time.together And By the end of the night, Alastor was carrying you out of the club. You held him close, thanking him for always being there for you.

Though he did not say it aloud, the demon couldn't help but think "you have no idea."

Stolas

You and Stolas rarely went out to drink as Stolas much preferred staying in with you to going out.

Plus he couldn't just take you wherever he wanted when you were out in public.

But tonight you were celebrating your anniversary, so he made an exception.

Stolas had chosen a nearby club, it was rather simple by royal status, which made it the perfect place for the two of you to go unnoticed.

The two of you were having a wonderful time. You were laughing, telling jokes and reminiscing on your time together.

Finishing another round of drinks, Stolas excused himself, rushing off to the bathroom. Releasing himself, he quickly returned to you.

You had gotten a fresh round of drinks for the both of you, something Stolas thanked you for.

However, Stolas noticed as you'd gotten about 2/3rds into your drink, you suddenly became very woozy.

He would have chocked it up to all the drinking youd done that night, except he was intimately familiar with how you behaved while intoxicated. And this wasn't it.

Taking your glass he stuck a finger into it before tasting it himself.

Someone had drugged you!

He quickly stood up, eyes scanning the room for the culprit.

It was easy to figure out a the bartender hadn't taken his eyes off of you, only looking away when he realised Stolas was staring at him.

With the swiftness only found in a bird of prey, Stolas darted for the bartender.

Grasing him by the throat, he asked how dare he do such a thing to his beloved. How dare he taint you with his drugs.

The Bartender sputtered out an apology, promising he wouldn't do it again.

Stolas agreed, he wouldn't.

Stolas tore the demon in two, nobody daring to get in his way as he returned to you.

Taking you in his arms Stolas quickly took you home. Placing you in bed, he cared for you as you endured the affects of the drug, watching over you long into the night.

You awoke the next morning with Stolas laying across your lap. Your memory of the night before was to Blurry to remember properly.

You woke Stolas, making a cheesy joke about how the sex last night must have been wild if you didn't remember most the night.

Stolas' gave a sombre laugh before taking your hand in his own.

He recounted the events of the night before, his voice clearly distressed.

It was clear he blamed himself, even going so far as apologising for letting it happen.

You just gave the Owl a big smooch before thanking him for being your knight in shining armor.

Your anniversary might have ended less than perfectlyly, but you still had your Prince, And so long as you were together, you knew everything was going to be okay.

Blitzø

You and Blitzø would go out regularly, weather it be for date nights or to just hang out.

So you were no stranger to the bar scene.

It would be during one of these date nights, the two of you having fun, just telling stories or just relaxing in each others company. It would be after a game of darts that you would excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

Blitzø would take the opportunity to collect the darts you had been playing with.

The Imp had turned around just in time to see someone dropping something into your beer.

Oh Fuck no! Nu uh, no way was he gonna let that shit slide.

He was on the fucker in seconds, kicking his ass to the floor. But before the bastard could respond, Blitzø had a pistol in his face.

Coming back, you found Blitzø pressing a gun into some guys face, interrogating the demon.

You asked him what the hell was going on, Blitzø told you what was happened. Telling you all about the guy spiking your drink.

It wouldn't be until Blitz cockes the hammer to the pistol would the demon confess.

You kind of shut down, getting very quiet. Telling Blitzø to just deal with him you packed up to leave.

Blitzø smirked, before Blowing the demons face through the back of his head. You left first, walking out of the Bar, Blitzø quickly chased after.

He struggled to match your pace, eventually getting you to stop.

He asked you if you were Okay. Someone had just tried to drug you, that kinda thing tends to mess with you. So no, you weren't Okay.

Blitzø pulled you close, doing his best to comfort you. Telling you he'll always be there to protect you, and nobody, nobody was gonna hurt you, not while he was around.

You just smiled at the Imps cocky nature. You told him you had no idea how you got so lucky to end up with as amazing as him.

Blitzø just told you the same. The two of you sharing a tender moment.

Hey Hey, I know this is kinda a cloudy subject so I made sure to give them all a happy ending. I hope you all enjoyed. Bye Bye.

[dungeonsandeddie]

Death and the Maiden

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Summary: Eddie has his own demons to fight and they're not the ones from the upside down.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, depression, fighting, self doubt, drugs

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: Inspired by the 1900 painting by Henri Levy. Also a vent fic so tread lightly. This is no way a fluff fanfiction but who doesn't love a good angst?

Your mind was filled with the thuds of heavy rain hitting against the trailer windows. It was currently 2am at night as you strummed the strings of your fender guitar, your fingers making no chords in particular. The lit marlboro cigarette hung loosely from your lips as you try to distract yourself from the ache from your chest as your boyfriend still wasn't back from his band gig.

You would usually go with Eddie to his shows to support him and hang out with the rest of the band, but you and him got into a fight before he left about him finishing high school.

"You promised me that you would work on getting your diploma! And now you barley even attend the fucking classes let alone pass them!"

"Well I'm sorry I'm such a big fucking disappointment!"

The memories kept flooding back to you as you smoked your way through an entire pack of smokes. You loved Eddie with all your being, and he loved you back. You were both obsessed with each other that some would even call it unhealthy. However, when you two fight, it gets bad. You both had your issues and you both didn't know how to express anger in a healthy way. Things get smashed from the both of you, words get exchanged and nasty names get spat but you two always made up because you both knew you would be miserable without each other. You had no doubt that Corroded Coffin would make it big one day, fuck you even knew it for a fact. But until they hit their big break, you two had bills to pay and unfortunately your income and Eddie's drug money was barley enough to survive off of.

As you put out your cigarette in the ash tray on the side table, the door suddenly busted open, startling you. It was your boyfriend soaked in rain water and he sported a fresh bloody nose.

"Eddie?" You asked, raising your head to look at him with soft eyes. No matter how mad you were at him, the scene in front of you tore on your heart strings. You studied him closely almost like a chapter book. The blood was pouring down his face, droplets of the crimson fluid was on his favorite Slayer shirt. His dark eyes were empty, almost like looking into the abyss.

"What the hell happened to you?" You spoke up once more, watching his eyes harden. Eddie had always tried to mask his feelings, bottling them up. You knew it was because of his childhood; his mother that had left him and his alcoholic criminal father never being there for him emotionally. You always gave him the benefit of the doubt but sometimes dealing with never knowing whats going on through his head gave you anxiety and saddened you.

"What are you still doing awake?" He asked as he walked over to the table to grab a cigarette for himself. The black leather doc marten boots he was wearing tracked in the rain and the mud from outside. He brought it to his lips, lighting it with a match and inhaling deeply.

"Couldn't sleep. Don't change the subject. What happened to your nose?" Your question was more stern this time, demanding an answer.

"None of your damn business, Y/N." Eddie scolded as he looked at you with cold eyes.

"Don't start your fucking bullshit, Munson." You were now pissed off, his nose injury slipping from your mind as you knew you two were going to be fighting until morning. You swung your guitar onto the couch, standing up and marching towards him. "I'm not in the mood but if you want to fucking go, we can do this all night baby I have nowhere to be."

"Well you're always meddling into my business. I'm tired of it! Fuck off for once!" Eddie was now in your face with a raised voice. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, now knowing he most likely got into a drunken fight after one of his shows like he often does.

"Oh let me guess? You were pissing away all of the money at the bar again, huh? I'm so sick of dealing with your stupid shit all the time!" You yelled back in his face 10 times louder, poking your finger in his chest. You knew Eddie always had a dark side, but that's what attracted you towards him because you knew you also had a dark side. You didn't have to pretend with Eddie about your thoughts of how you view yourself or the blame you have on your mothers death from when you were 16. The guilt had followed you into your adulthood, never leaving your side.

"Then leave me, Y/N! I will never be what you want me to be. You're too good for a drug dealer, huh? Is that it? You weren't too good for me when you were basically fucking me for drugs, Y/N!" Eddie shouted. You two always had to one up each other on the insults, never knowing when enough is enough.

"You fucking asshole! You're just like your piece of shit father you good for noth-" as the words fled from your mouth, you knew you had fucked up. He despised his dad with every fiber of his being. You two would lay in bed at night as he confessed to you being petrified to turn out like him.

As soon as you said it, the mans face went from being absolutely pissed off to self hatred. His doe eyes relaxed and all you could see was regret in his eyes. "don't ever compare me to him."

You were debating on your next move, scanning his facial expressions to somehow find your answer. He beat you to it though as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray. He lazily fell into the couch, cupping his hands to his face as if he didn't want you to see him anymore. You noticed the dried blood that had seeped into the details of his silver rings.

You stared down at him unsure of what to say. When you two had fought in the past, it always ended in you two walking away from each other pissed off. Later, whichever had the courage to do so that day, broke the tension by doing little things like cooking for one another or a guitar session. Never has one broke down in tears from emptiness.

"I'm so tired, Y/N. I can't keep doing this." He muffled into his hands. You slowly made your way over to the seat next to him, propping your guitar against the wall.

He turned towards you with teary eyes. Your eyes softened with guilt from the words you spoke to him. "Look Eddie, I didn't really mean-" He cut you off again.

"No, you're right. I am just like him. I'm a piece of shit drug dealer. I can't even properly express my feelings towards my own partner. Everyone at school thinks I'm a freak. I mean you should hear the things they say about me, Y/N."

That's when you saw through Eddie like a piece of glass. The man that sat in front of you was nowhere near the dark like you often thought he was- he was completely broken.

"How do people expect me to not start acting like all the things they call me? I can't meet the expectations of others and I can't deal with the pressure of the world. For me to simply be okay." Tears were spilling out of his eyes at this point.

"I can't be the nephew Wayne wants me to be. I can't be the cool older friend Dustin wants me to be. I can't be the boyfriend you deserve. All I am is simply nothing."

It was your turn for tears to spill out of your eyes now. You often compared you and Eddie for sharing the same darkness but you two were just fragile human beings trying to get by in this world of chaos. You both were so used to putting on a tough act that it was almost a fake personality now. Sure, you and Eddie have shared each others deepest secrets to each other. He has held you as you were sobbing from the hatred you had for yourself and you have held him as he was struggling with his own demons. You two may not be perfect, fuck nowhere near perfect. But you had an undying love for each other to the point where you would die for each other.

You pulled his head towards your chest, holding it close. You began stroking his wet curls as you shushed him to calm down. Eddie held onto you almost like he was scared of you fading away and deep sobs escaped from his chest. You felt his tears sodden your shirt and you just continued to hold him.

"I'm just so lost, Y/N. I've lost myself." He choked out in between the sobs and you felt his hands shake against your arms.

"I know baby. I'm here. Always."

[wordsnwhiskey]

As It Should Be | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: The morning after is filled with misunderstandings and overwhelming feelings. Things just get worse after you, Whiskey, and Frankie debrief with Champ, Ginger, and Pope, and old demons are brought to light.

Rating: M - No Minors

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries, mentions of non-major character deaths, lots of talk surrounding drugs, a panic attack, angst, alcohol - If I'm missing any just let me know!

A/N: We’ve got misunderstandings and angst in this chapter. We get a peek at Frankie’s prior drug use and he’s not in a good headspace about it. This chapter and the next will deal pretty heavily with these issues. A very special thanks to Agent Capri Sun and @danniburgh for reading over these chapters and giving me the encouragement to get these out there! ~5.9k WC

Chapter 2: All Hell Breaks Loose [AO3]

Consciousness found you as it did most mornings, pinned by a strong, warm arm. You groaned softly while nuzzling back into the warmth, then opened your eyes, surprised to see Whiskey lounging in a chair off to the side of the bed, scrolling on his phone. His eyes met yours with a smile of his own, and then everything that had happened the night before came flooding back. Murmuring in his sleep, Frankie pulled you closer to him and you smiled back at Jack. It felt so right, so natural, you just wished Jack would leave his phone and come back to bed. Whiskey put his phone away and tilted his head, gesturing for you to join him and put his phone away. Carefully, you did your best to extract yourself from Frankie’s warm embrace, wincing as your body ached in protest. You let out a huff once you steadied yourself on your feet only to have Whiskey pull you into his arms.

“Are you alright, Sugar? I found some sweats and a t-shirt that’ll fit you in the closet. Figured you’d want somethin’ a touch more comfortable after last night.”

“You’re a godsend, Jack. I’m good, you boys just really wore me out.”

Jack chuckled softly and you moved to put on the clothes that lay folded on the chair Frankie had been bound to last night. It was normal that the safehouses were stocked with loungewear of a few different sizes in the event an agent needed a quick change. Groaning, you hobbled over to the kitchen, intent on pouring yourself a cup of coffee. He beat you to it though, and you heard him tut in disapproval.

“Uh-uh, you just sit your pretty little behind down and let me get that for you, darlin’.”

You didn’t bother arguing, knowing Whiskey wouldn’t hear it, and frankly, with how sore you were, you didn’t want to. He set a mug down in front of you, then took a seat at the table with his own mug.

“I talked to Ginger earlier. From what it looks like, our pilot was right, they launched one hell of an amorous agent at the gala last night. She sent me some more details, and so far the only casualties were two of the guys from the private security attachment, the people we downed, and a few attendees who had prior heart complications, their hearts gave out from blood pressure spikes.”

You took a sip of your coffee, letting the warmth fill you, then bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation.

“We’re probably safe to assume then that casualties weren’t their goal, and had they known Statesmen agents would be there, they would have made sure to neutralize us first. With all the chatter Ginger was catching wind of though, they’re either new or they were trying to get someone’s attention.”

Whiskey nodded, pursing his lips and staring down at his coffee while his fingers tapped rhythmically on the table.

“Penny for your thoughts, Whiskey?”

Deep, melted chocolate eyes flickered up to meet your gaze and his mouth twisted as if in distaste for the words he was about to say.

“Now, there’s no good way to bring this up other than just saying it, and I told Ginger I’d ask.” He paused, reconsidering again, then sighed. “Did you tell Frankie or Santiago about Statesmen?”

Your brow furrowed and a muscle in your jaw ticked as you clenched your teeth. You had kept Statesmen’s secret all these years, even though it killed you to keep anything from your old squad. They were your family, and you couldn’t stand lying to them. A sharp flare of anger burned in your chest. The need to lie to them had frankly been a major part of why you hadn’t been back to visit since Tom’s funeral.

“No, of course not, Whiskey.”

Your voice was even, deadpan almost but it was clear from your face that your anger was growing. Jack put a hand up in surrender and gently rested his other hand on your forearm.

“Hey, hey, we don’t want to wake him up.”

He let out a sigh and moved his hand down to cradle your fingers in his own.

“I didn’t figure you had, darlin’, I just had to ask. Especially since he apparently already knew we had a safehouse.”

You took in a deep breath then slowly exhaled, glancing over at Frankie who was still sleeping peacefully.

“Yeah, well, if there were two people in the whole world who’d never believe my cover, it’d be Frankie and Santi. They’re smart, and they know me better than almost anyone else.”

Whiskey jerked his hand away from you, feigning hurt for a moment before it gave way to a teasing smile when you swatted his arm.

“How was he? After I fell asleep.”

“Well, his wrists are in a bad way. Shy as could be when I had him sit down so I could bandage him up. As if he hadn’t moaned at deepthroating my fingers just a bit before.”

You nearly choked on your coffee. It was downright sinful the way Jack could say such lewd things with a voice like honey.

“If you’re wondering whether he regretted it, I highly doubt it, sweetheart. I think you were exactly on the money when you thought about him, but… Well, this ain’t exactly the best way for it to all happen.”

You nodded, sighing while you rubbed the back of your hand with your thumb, a self-soothing gesture you seldom did anymore.

“Certainly not the way we had hoped for it to happen. This was hardly dinner and a conversation. I didn’t expect to spring this on him after only just popping back into each other’s lives after five years. I can’t even really count the funeral since… well, we hardly talked.”

Jack squeezed your hand reassuringly.

“Nothing doing worrying about it, darlin’. We’ll sort everything out once he wakes up.”

Just then, your stomach growled and Whiskey chuckled.

“Besides, sounds like I should be worrying about what to make us for breakfast. Champ isn’t expecting us to debrief until 14:00. Which reminds me, I had Ginger get a hold of Santiago. He’s fine, and they’re sending Vermouth to pick him up and bring him to the office for the debrief.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you nod, grateful that Santi was ok after the attack. A small huff of excitement brings your attention back to Whiskey, finding him holding a box of pancake mix triumphantly.

“How about pancakes, darlin’?”

His eyes twinkle at the way yours widen in excitement.

“Pancakes it is then, baby.”

Frankie woke to hushed voices and the smell of pancakes. His stomach growled, and he groaned as he sat up. He felt like he had been hit by a truck.

“Hijo de puta.” [Son of a bitch.]

He muttered to himself, hissing when he bumped his wrist. You turned from your conversation with Jack after hearing Frankie curse, and you couldn’t help but admire how cute he looked in his post-sleep haze. His unruly curls were at all different angles and you fought the urge to walk up to him and sink your fingers in them.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” You paused a moment, looking at the stove clock, “Well, not exactly morning anymore.”

Frankie groaned as he stretched his arms and rolled his aching shoulders, then staggered to the kitchen table, sinking into the open chair and pulling out his phone for the time: noon.

“Fuck, Whiskey, I told you I only needed five hours.”

Whiskey stretched in his seat, waving dismissively at Frankie.

“Clearly you needed more than five hours, Flyboy. You were barely standing when you woke me up this morning. I called our Executive Tech Coordinator, Ginger, to check in. She’s having Santiago picked up, and he’ll meet us at our office. They’re not expecting us until 14:00, we’ve got some time.”

Frankie grumbled under his breath, and you noticed the way Jack’s eyebrow shot up in response to the grumbling. Hiding your smile, you got up and made a plate of pancakes for Frankie, then poured him a cup of coffee.

“Cream or sugar?”

Frankie shakes his head and takes a sip from his coffee, a small hum of pleasure vibrating in his throat.

“Gracias, Halcón.”

Both you and Jack watched him, bemused at the way Frankie shoveled the pancakes into his mouth.

“You should be thanking Whiskey. He’s the one who made them.”

Frankie swallowed then paused, looking over at Whiskey, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“These are delicious, Whiskey, thanks.”

A warm smile lit up Whiskey’s face, and he nodded in appreciation. After a moment, his gaze flickers over to yours, silently seeking your approval to start the conversation you know needs to take place before the debriefing. You refill your coffee, then give Whiskey a nod.

“Before we head out, there are a few things we need to go over, Frankie.”

Whiskey’s drawl floated in Frankie’s ears and tugged at him in a way he hadn’t expected it to without the amorous agent in his system.

“First things first, how did you figure we had a safehouse? Did you already know about Statesmen?”

Frankie blinked and sat back, looking between you and Jack before clearing his throat.

“Pope and I always figured you went into intelligence after the Army, Halcón. Pope doesn’t get called in for small gigs much anymore, and the money Pope pitched the job to me for meant it was high profile. Never believed that story of you being an EA at a distillery for a second. You hate paperwork. Seeing you there meant there might be trouble... Well, you’re always trouble, Halcón.”

He smiled, chuckling a bit to himself.

“Your revolvers and whip, and her pistol in a thigh holster… Well, with everything else, that pretty much confirmed to me that you’re both spooks. That’s why I figured you’d have your own safe houses. I couldn’t guarantee any of Pope’s because of the gas. I didn’t know who had been caught or who had been affected. Just put the pieces together, really.”

Frankie shrugged, and Jack, who had been watching him intently, nodded.

“We’re not on anyone’s radar, Frankie. The distillery is real and helps fund our operations, but not even the President is aware, and we like to keep it that way. So you can understand why there were some concerns when you seemed to have it figured out.”

He nodded, understanding completely the security concerns that came with that kind of secrecy.

“Glad you’re not a jackass CIA agent at least, Halcón.”

You snorted and shook your head.

“No, but Whiskey here is plenty jackass for the both of us.”

Whiskey scoffed and shook his head.

“That’s not the tune you were singing when we first met, darlin’. I seem to remember rescuing you, then stitching you up.”

“I didn’t need rescuing, Whiskey. They grazed me, but I had them!”

Frankie chuckled, a smirk settling on his lips at your indigent retort as he held your gaze. His smirk faltered, however, when he felt your hand rest on his arm. He knew this fleeting moment where things felt oddly right and natural, joking around in the kitchen was just that: fleeting. Now, the other shoe was about to drop.

“All things considered, Fish, you look good… I’m glad.”

Jack sat back, observing the two of you. That simple sentence held more weight than he’d expect it to in a normal conversation. The way Frankie frowned slightly and looked down and away didn’t escape his attention. He watched you fidget for a moment before starting again.

“About last night, Frankie-”

“You two look really good together. Seem to be really great partners, and… and I’m not going to do something dumb like try to get in the way of that or anything. I know we were all affected by the gas, a-and I was available.”

Frankie blurted out. The words felt thick and bitter on his tongue, his heart protesting each syllable, but he so desperately wanted to give you an out from this situation, from him and his baggage. He didn’t want to lose you or your friendship, not when he had just gotten you back in his life. His gaze was actively avoiding yours and Whiskey’s, opting instead to stare down at the floor. You and Jack shared a frown as you took a beat to recover. Whiskey was clearing his throat to try to salvage the conversation, but you could see the gears moving in Frankie’s head as he suddenly stood.

“I need to go prep the helo if we’re going to make it back in time.”

The walls were coming up brick by devastating brick in Frankie’s downcast, coffee-colored eyes. On instinct, you reached out for him, your fingers wrapping around his wrist, only to jerk back just as suddenly as he winced in pain.

“Sorry. Frankie, just wait a second.”

“Yeah, now look here, Flyboy, we didn’t do anything we didn’t want to. Hell, you can be damn sure I enjoyed myself.”

There was an ugly, acrid taste pooling in Frankie’s mouth that he couldn’t stop: jealousy. Of course Whiskey had enjoyed himself. At the end of the day, he still had you. Frankie hated himself all the more for this jealousy. It didn’t even have anything to do with the cowboy, he actually liked him despite his cocky attitude. He caught himself, realizing it had almost everything to do with the self-hatred he still harbored. Three years clean was still more than three years too late. Realizing he hadn’t responded, Frankie nodded, gaze flicking from Whiskey to you.

“Can we all at least grab dinner this Friday and talk about it?”

There’s hope in your voice as you plead with him, and you can see his walls stop rising, at least for the moment.

“Ok, yeah.” There’s another awkward pause before Frankie checks his phone for the time and rocks back on his heels. “I’m going to get the helo ready. We need to head out soon.”

You watched as he quickly dressed himself in the disheveled clothes from the night prior and headed out the door in record speed.

Frankie breathed in the fresh air as he walked over to the helicopter. He needed to clear his head. His emotions were all over the place from the night prior and lack of sleep, and it felt like he was giving himself whiplash. Reaching the helicopter, he set out to pull the tarp off of the aircraft. It was much easier taking the damned thing off than it was putting it on, probably having to do with the fact that he wasn’t moments away from collapsing to try to give himself some relief. Gritting his teeth, he willed the thoughts away and made quick work of folding the tarp, stowing it away in its compartment in the cockpit. Frankie sank into the pilot's seat with a sigh and began taking inventory of everything. The blazer he had carelessly wrenched off was still laying in a heap on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up and dust it off, his eyes meandering to Pope’s pistol laying in the co-pilot’s chair. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost it in the chaos of everything. Throwing his head back against the headrest, Frankie closed his eyes. At least they’d be heading out soon and he could throw himself into whatever came next.

You and Whiskey sat at the table for a moment longer, and it was Whiskey who broke the silence.

“Well… everything considered, sweetheart, that could have been worse. Could have gone better too though.”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at Whiskey.

“It’s probably just… a lot for him. The last time we saw each other wasn’t exactly stellar.”

“It was a funeral, Bourbon. That’s understandable.”

That wasn’t exactly what you’d meant, but you kept silent, nodding. Whiskey stood up, walking around the table until he stood in front of you. He took your hands in his own and hauled you up, holding you tight and kissing the top of your head.

“C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get our things together. Champ’ll be waiting for us.”

You and Whiskey moved quickly to gather your belongings, and you had never been more grateful for the stock slip-on shoes Statesmen provided. You didn’t want to have to go out barefoot. Looking back at the safe house, you almost felt bad with the mess you were leaving behind, but you knew for a fact the Statesmen cleaning service had seen far worse.

Frankie only acknowledged you and Whiskey once your headsets were on.

“Get ready, we’re taking off. Statesmen New York office in 20 minutes. Thankfully, we’ve got plenty of fuel.”

The trip back to the office was awkward but thankfully quiet, and Frankie focused on the calming effect flying had on him. After about 20 minutes, you heard Campari’s voice on the radio.

“Approaching aircraft, state your clearance code.”

Whiskey got up from his seat and stood next to Frankie.

“Campari, this is Whiskey, clearance code Alpha-Whiskey-Niner-Niner-Foxtrot.”

There was a pause on the other end as Campari reviewed the code.

“Confirmed, welcome back, Agents Whiskey and Bourbon. Mr. Morales, you’re cleared to land.”

Frankie expertly navigated the helicopter to the landing pad and Whiskey was the first to hop out once they landed. You followed closely behind, turning to make sure Frankie was following. He certainly was, although a few steps behind, and his gaze was still downcast. Frankie was only vaguely aware of his surroundings, still mostly inside his own head as they walked through giant oak double doors into a conference room. It wasn’t until he heard Santiago’s voice that his gaze snapped up.

“¡Hermano!”

Frankie gave Pope a smile as they clasped arms. Then, the other man grabbed Frankie’s shoulders tightly.

“¡Nunca más me asustes así! ¿Entíendes?” [Never scare me like that again! Got it?/Understand?]

Frankie nodded sheepishly, then went to take a seat across from you and to the left of Whiskey.

“Put those on.”

Whiskey gestured to the orange tinted aviators resting on the conference table, identical to the ones you and Whiskey now wore. You watched Frankie bite his lip in concentration, then smiled at the way his eyes lit up as he put them on to see a hologram of Champ seated at the far end of the table.

“¡Ay!”

Frankie and Santiago shout in surprise. Champ shares a look of amusement with you and Whiskey, then gives the other two men a warm smile.

“Alright everyone, let’s get this show on the road. Name’s Champagne but anyone who knows what’s good for them calls me Champ. The lovely lady on the screen on the wall here is Ginger, and y’all are familiar with Whiskey and Bourbon.”

Frankie and Santiago were still in awe, but they nodded their acknowledgements to Champ and Ginger.

“Now, Ginger has an update for us, but first, I must commend you, Catfish. From what I understand, you identified the threat and moved to get Whiskey and Bourbon out of there, minimizing casualties as well as ensuring two of our best agents weren’t captured. I’m sure it was a tremendous feat to do so and fly yourselves to safety given the… well, the condition y’all were in.”

You, Jack, and Frankie had the decency to blush. Frankie ducked his head at the compliment and did his best to avoid eye contact with Pope. He just knew Santi would have a teasing remark about the three of them being together.

“Ginger was able to confirm that the amorous agent used in last night’s attack is a variant of a new drug being used to torture information out of victims.”

“From what Whiskey and I were reviewing,” You interjected, “I think it’s safe to say casualties weren’t their primary objective. Considering how... incapacitated the attendees were, it would have been easy to take more lives. Instead, the deaths seem to be accidental, the result of the private security team or us. It looks to me like their main objective was humiliation. I doubt they knew who Whiskey and I are, if they even had Statesmen Distillery on their radar since we were last-minute additions.”

Frankie nodded and thrust his chin out to Santiago.

“Pope and I heard about it at a conference for his security firm. The ingredients and refinement process are supposed to be too delicate and expensive for something mass market or on the scale that we saw last night.”

Champ nodded and pursed his lips in thought. A sound came from the TV as Ginger chimed in.

“It appears we may have caught a break with that, actually. Final lab results just came in, and analysis of the Agent Red compound also included trace elements of cocaine. Now, last year we busted the Golden Circle cartel, so this could be the competition sweeping in. They might have the resources and facilities to pull it off.”

The room went quiet. Frankie hadn’t heard anything past “cocaine” and the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. His head turned in stiff, jerky movements as his gaze met Pope’s then yours and you can’t think of a moment you’ve seen him more afraid than he is now. Years of dropping into war zones couldn’t touch his reaction now: the quickening of his breath, the way his brows went up and furrowed slightly, the way his eyes widened and froze or the way his lips were parted, tense from the words that were silently stumbling over each other trying to escape the leash of his tongue. Jack took in the way you blanched and Frankie’s pure terror, and finally the pieces fell into place. The words had finally pulled free from Frankie’s tongue, but it was clear that he was far too panicked to put together much of a sentence.

“N-no! I--this, this c-can’t be… Hawk,” he started, desperate to reassure you he’d been clean, as if this brush with the illicit substance negated everything he had done. But you hadn’t been around to see him get clean, so how could he expect you to believe him after how he was when you had left? Frankie started again, frantically seeking Pope’s gaze, “Pope, you know… you know I’ve been clean for three years. I can’t-no, I can’t lose it! I just...I just got it ba-”

Frankie’s voice was broken, the words were crashing into each other, frantic in between sharp, shaky inhales. He looked physically ill, and Jack could see all of the tell-tale signs of a bad panic attack playing out before him. Without hesitating, he swung his chair to face Frankie.

“Hey, Flyboy, you gotta breathe.”

Frankie squeezed his eyes shut, ears clinging to Whiskey’s Southern drawl, desperate to ground himself to something. The peaceful image of a cabin by a quiet lake that he conjured up during times like these was gone, just out of reach, almost taunting him. He flinched when Jack’s large, warm hand came in contact with his back, but he let the other man gently push him forward until his head was between his knees. Frankie did his best to try to regain his breathing, he was emotionally and physically exhausted, this had just been the final straw. The warmth emanating from Whiskey’s hand spread down his back, and his mind clung to the sensation like a drowning man would a lifeline. Slowly, Frankie’s gulping of air began to shift towards almost normal as the pressure in his chest eased.

Pope shared a look with you, then cleared his throat.

“Fish had...some issues with cocaine a while back, and his pilot’s license was suspended because of it. He’s worked hard to get his license back, and he’s been clean.”

Champ nodded. He held no judgement. Hell, their own Tequila had had his own run-ins with illicit substances. Your gaze flickered to Whiskey, it seemed like his sole concern was Frankie in that moment. His eyes met yours briefly, and the warring emotions in them foreshadowed a later conversation, but then the moment was gone, and his focus was back on Frankie. Champ paused a moment longer, making sure that Frankie looked to be recovering before continuing.

“Not to worry, Catfish, should you have any trouble with a surprise drug test, Statesmen’ll take care of it. After all, it couldn’t have been helped, and we owe you for Whiskey and Bourbon.”

Frankie slowly brought himself to sit upright, nodding stiffly. Ginger felt for Frankie, watching him as he emptily accepted Champ’s promise.

“If it’s any consolation, we found only trace amounts, nothing substantial.” Not enough to get you hooked were the unspoken words accompanying her statement.

A shaky breath of relief found its way out of Frankie’s lungs, but the fear remained in his eyes. What if he slipped up? Champ was running a cigar under his nose pensively.

“For now, Pope, I want you to coordinate with Ginger. See if you can fill in any of our gaps on the attack last night. Whiskey, Bourbon, I want your reports in tonight. I don’t need to explain but anything you two can remember could be helpful for Ginger and Pope. Catfish,” Frankie’s head snapped up, gaze settling on Champ at the sound of his name. He was ready for an assignment, for something, anything to get his mind off of the thoughts swirling around in his head. “Ginger booked you a hotel just a few blocks from the New York office. I want you to go there, relax, and get some sleep. I understand you got some rest this morning, but given the ordeal you’ve been through, I’m having you take the rest of the day.”

Frankie opened his mouth to protest, but Champ quickly shushed him by continuing.

“Now, don’t worry, it’s not just you. As soon as Whiskey and Bourbon are done with their reports, I’m sending them home too.”

Frankie pursed his lips and nodded, already feeling like a burden and that his last foothold was crumbling. The meeting went on for a few more minutes, but Frankie was in his own head, effectively on autopilot. His shoulders were slumped and his gaze was fixed on some unknown far off point. You, Jack, and Pope shared a concerned glance as the meeting ended. Frankie blinked when Santiago walked up to him, putting his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Hey, I forgot your go bag, but I grabbed your hat. Figured you’d want it, hermano.”

Standing, Frankie nodded, murmuring his thanks. The doors opened and another agent walked into the conference room.

“Mr. Morales, I’m Agent Vermouth. Please come with me. Ginger asked that I make sure you get to the hotel without any issues.”

You winced at the hurt in Frankie’s eyes that quickly gave way to a hollow nothingness, and your heart clenched for him. There was no way Vermouth could have known the circumstances, what the additional weight his words would have on Frankie. Frowning, Frankie shuffled after Vermouth and disappeared from the room. With a sigh, you turned to Santiago.

“Hey Pope, Whiskey’s just next door, and I’m down the hall. I’m sure Ginger will give you a call in a few minutes. You’ve got the whole conference room to yourself for the rest of the day.”

Pope nodded before you and Whiskey turned to head out.

“My office, Bourbon.”

Whiskey’s voice was low. You had been expecting this, you knew you hadn’t been exactly forthcoming given Whiskey’s past issues. Before you both could make it out of the conference room, Pope’s voice stopped you.

“Hawk?”

Santiago frowned and took a deep breath.

“He really has gotten his shit together. Colombia broke him, and none of us should have been there but I-” Pope sighed and scratched at his beard. “Frankie’s put in the work, he did it, he’s doing it. I know you might have doubts since you weren’t there, but you know I wouldn’t enable him… I just mean that, don’t write him off because of this, Halcón.”

You gave Pope a soft, sad smile and nodded.

“I won’t, Santi.”

There was a beat of silence, Jack quietly observing the two of you. At last, Santiago nodded, and you left the conference room with Jack. He unlocked the door to his office, holding it open for you and you strolled in, making a beeline for the whiskey and two tumblers that sat on the bar cart. You heard him lock the door again as you poured two fingers for each of you. Taking the tumblers in hand, you slid down onto Whiskey’s brown leather couch and handed him the other glass. He was quiet. You both took a sip from your glasses, and then he bit his lip, staring at the swirling amber liquid.

“When were you going to tell me, Bourbon? Were you going to tell me? I mean hell, especially with what we’re considering with him, you gotta tell me shit like this.”

His eyes only met yours at his last word, his face was one of hurt and anger tinged with betrayal.

“I’m sorry, Jack, I really am. I was going to tell you, I was planning on telling you after we went down for the fight. If he was still doing well, then we’d talk about it. If he wasn’t… well, then I was going to tell you anyways. Like Santi said, I don’t have the full story. You’re right though, and I’m really sorry, Jack. I should have told you.”

He held your gaze and nodded almost imperceptibly as you gently reached out to hold his hand and took a sip of your whiskey.

“About three years ago, I reached out to Benny, one of the guys from our unit, to congratulate him on a fight, and we started catching up. He mentioned Frankie was cleaning up his act. The guys-- Pope, Catfish, Benny, Ironhead and Redfly-- went to Colombia on a job, and I don’t have all the details because it wasn’t an official mission, but Redfly, our old Captain, died.”

Whiskey nodded, remembering you were fairly new at the time but already a rising star. He remembered the devastation on your face when you had gotten the news. After all, he had been the one to escort you to Champ’s office when you requested time off for the funeral.

“I remember. You went to his funeral. About 4 years ago now.”

You nodded.

“It was the last time I saw Frankie, and he was not in a good place. Not only because of whatever happened in Colombia, but he got back to find his fiancée had left him, and he had started using again. The guys don’t like to talk about what happened, especially not Pope, as I’m sure you noticed. I called Benny again a year ago. With everything that was happening with Poppy and the Golden Circle, I was worried Frankie had slipped up, but I was also so hopeful that he hadn’t. Benny told me that Frankie was still clean, he’d gotten his license back, and was doing well for himself.”

Whiskey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“It… it doesn’t make me think less of him, sweetheart. You know I’ve been doing the work in therapy, and I understand he’s not the same as the bastards who took everything from me. I know that’s why you were apprehensive. If this is going to work though, we need to communicate. I can’t have you keepin’ secrets like this.”

You nodded. The understanding between you was solid, and you knew you should have told him sooner. He took your glass and pulled you closer so you could nestle into his side. It had been an exhausting 24 hours, and you both wanted nothing more than to have this moment to just exist with each other. After a few quiet moments, you took your glass from his hand, threw back the rest of your drink, then disentangled yourself from Whiskey.

“I’m going to go get changed then get on that report so I can get the hell out of here. I want to take a bath and unwind a bit first, but do you want to do takeout at your place tonight?”

“Wouldn’t have my night any other way, sweetheart. I’ll text you later?”

You nod and wink, earning you one of his soft smiles, then you head out.

The hotel room was nice, far nicer than any room Frankie would have ever booked for himself. It was swanky and refined, whereas the hotel they had planned for the gala at was gaudy and flashy. Frankie stared at the menus laying on the bed next to him, not really seeing the words printed before him. Agent Vermouth had told him to order room service and not to worry about the cost, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He closed his eyes, cradling his head in his hands, trying to shut out the dark thoughts circling around him. This feeling, low in his stomach, twisting knots in him, felt like failure. Like he was a failure. It felt like somehow all of the work he had put into getting clean had been undone in a blink of the eye. He hadn’t even sought it out or consented to it. No, it seemed like no matter what he did, his past… the drugs, they would always catch up to him. Of course it was happening now, when he had a real shot at something better. He wasn’t sure what you were hopeful for when you pleaded with him to do dinner in two days’ time, but at least he could hope for regaining your friendship.

With a sigh, he got up and ambled to the minibar, grabbing a few bottles of whiskey, downing one, then sank back onto the bed. His personal phone suddenly went off. Fumbling around for it in his pocket, he took a deep breath, then unlocked it.

Kevin: I couldn’t find someone to cover for you, I’m letting you go Morales. If you have any personal belongings we’ll have them mailed to you. Your final paycheck will be deposited on Friday.

Frankie felt tears prick at his eyes, and he desperately scrubbed at his face with the heel of his left hand as if his efforts would keep the tears from falling. That was the last thing he needed right now.

What a fucking mess he was.

He was a veteran, a former cocaine addict, and now he could add jobless to his titles. It felt like his world was crumbling all around him.

Fuck.

Frankie squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, desperately wishing this was just one of his nightmares. His hands shook, whether from stress or something else he wasn’t sure. He downed another bottle, staring at the minibar a moment longer, fingers fumbling with the cap of the third.

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Soooo, hi...yes...thank you for reading! I've got Chapter 4 in the wings and Chapter 5 knocking around my drafts!

Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated! If you want to be added to my taglist just head on over here! If your blog is crossed out, it wouldn't let me tag you, sorry!

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[alicanta77]

Run Away

pairing: y/n x Jaemin

themes: fluff, angst, non idol au

warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, drugs, drug use, overdose, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, depression, suicide attempt, death, character death, anxiety, abusive family, alcohol abuse

words: 12k

Disclaimer: This contains very dark content. Please do NOT read if you are uncomfortable with or easily triggered by anything listed in the warnings.

——————————————————————————

Would you run away to me?

‘Run away!’ Your young voice rang out clearly. ‘Run away before Hook catches you!’

‘Captain Hook will never catch me.’ Jaemin declared, standing on a box to put himself higher than you. ‘Because I’m Peter Pan!’

Yours and Jaemin’s mothers watched the two of you play. Just two seven year olds who had nothing more to worry about than being saved from a giant make believe crocodile. 

You fell backwards pretending as though you had landed in water. You flailed your arms and legs around calling out for Jaemin to save you. 

Jaemin saw the “danger” you were in and leapt into action. He jumped off of his box, landing in a shaky forwards roll, before picking up into a run and speeding towards you. He paused on the way to grab a large stick from the floor to use as a sword as he pretended to battle the imaginary demon attacking you.

After the monster was defeated, he landed on his knees next to you. Pulling you close to check that you were okay.

‘Y/n? You’re safe now. Nothing can touch you when I’m here.’ He reassured you.

‘My hero.’ You giggled, sitting up properly.

Both your heads turned as your mother called the two of you in for a snack. You took Jaemin’s hand and pulled yourself up.

‘Race you to the table!’ You challenged, sprinting towards the open back door.

‘Cheat! You should have waited for me to be ready.’ Jaemin complained, already running after you. It didn’t matter how much of a head start you gave yourself, Jaemin would always let you win anyway.

You enjoyed playing make believe with Jaemin. The imaginary worlds you created were always so much better than reality. Places where the two of you could be heroes and save people, where you were safe as long as you had each other, where nothing and nobody could touch you.

Unfortunately, you always had to come back to reality.

You father stumbled through the door, throwing his keys in the general direction of the coffee table, and missing. He sent you and Jaemin a withering look before making his way upstairs. He left a strong scent of alcohol behind him, one that you were very used to.

Jaemin’s mother looked towards yours with a sympathetic smile, your mother simply shrugging helplessly back at her. You and Jaemin were too young to properly understand what was going on, but, even at that age, you could tell that it wasn’t good.

Jaemin had always been better at reading people than you were. He could tell from the slightest twitch in someone’s eyebrow as to whether they were angry, sad or confused. The only person you could read like a book was Jaemin. The two of you never bothered to hide anything from the other, knowing that it wouldn’t work even if you tried.

The two of you sat down at the table slowly, your actions speeding up when you noticed the plate of cookies on the table. The two of you smiled at each other, cheeks full of the sweet treat as your mothers looked endearingly at you. At your age you didn’t stay sad or scared for long, making it easier for them to distract and protect you from reality.

---

The afternoon sun was beating down outside, giving out the last of its rays before it descended and the moon took over. You and Jaemin sat together, happily watching as the sky morphed into a painting of pinks and oranges.

‘I like the sky like this.’ You said, resting your tiring head on Jaemin’s shoulder.

‘Why?’ He questioned, hugging his knees with his hands.

‘Because it looks like something out of a fairy tale. Somewhere there are happy ever afters, and everyone gets one.’ You explained as Jaemin nodded in agreement. The both of you were too young to fully understand the depths of the words you uttered.

‘I can’t wait for a happy ever after.’ Jaemin admitted, putting his head on yours.

‘Me neither.’ You murmured, enjoying being near your best friend.

‘Jaemin!’ Jaemin’s mother’s voice drew both your attention away from the sky in front of you. ‘It’s time to go! Say goodbye, you can see each other again tomorrow.’

Jaemin turned back to face you, pulling you in for a quick hug.

‘Bye y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow?’ He asked.

‘Of course.’ You replied, smiling at him.

Jaemin stood up off the porch steps the two of you were sitting on, and walked off with his mum. He turned back to send you one last wave before he crossed the street. You waved back, watching until he disappeared from your sight. 

You couldn’t wait for your happy ever after.

---

But happy ever after took time.

You sat in your bedroom, your hands covering your ears as you buried your head in your duvet. You were doing everything you could think of to block out the noises but it wasn’t working. Your father’s drunk screams were echoing up to your room and your mother’s retaliations were just as noisy.

You whimpered as the words got more violent and vicious, the threats becoming more and more severe. It was when you heard a smack and a yelp of pain that you finally burst into tears.

You had never felt more useless in your life. The hopelessness washed over you in tidal waves as you tried as hard as you could to stop the tears. Nothing was working. 

Your sobs got louder with each one that escaped you, eventually becoming almost as deafening as your parent’s harsh words to each other. Your young body was shaking, partially from fear and partially from the force of your crying. 

The noise from the floor below you quietened, making you still slightly, your sobs turning into quiet cries as you listened.

You heard footsteps climbing the stairs, loud uneven footsteps that you knew were your father’s. You felt your heart start to race again, this time you knew it was in pure fear. A second pair chased up after him, much lighter and faster. That was your mother. 

Your father threw open your door, a sadistic smile on his face as he looked at your vulnerable form.

‘How pathetic.’ He mused. ‘Crying because you can’t handle a bit of loud noise.’

You whimpered again, attempting to pull your duvet up over you, as if it was a shield that could protect you.

He stalked towards you.

‘Get up.’ He spat. ‘Now.’

You were to afraid to argue, pushing your duvet down and standing on shaking legs. You wrapped your arms around you to defend yourself from the sudden chill of leaving the warmth of your bed.

You father managed one more step towards you before your mother reached your room.

‘No.’ She commanded, her voice full of an unusual authority. ‘You don’t hurt her.’

Your father turned around, almost amused by your mother’s words.

‘Hurt her? How would I do that?’

Your mother was clearly afraid and not enjoying the teasing looking on your father’s face.

‘Ohhhh.’ He said, realisation taking over his features. ‘You mean like this?’

He moved so quickly that you didn’t have time to react. He whirled his body around and lashed out with a punch. It was so fast and so powerful that it knocked you off your feet.

You hit the floor with a thud, banging the top of your head as you did so. You blinked a couple of times, trying to get the floor to stop spinning. You vaguely registered your mother trowing herself at your father, but he easily threw her off.

You were too out of it to hear his dangerous whisper.

‘You come at me like that again, and I’ll hit that child twice as hard.’

All you noticed was your mother stopping in her tracks, immediately giving up on protecting you. You watched her figure move away, not sparing you another glance.

Your father watched her go, his back to you, and you took your opportunity. You pushed yourself up off the floor, careful not to make a sound and crept towards your window. As you opened it slightly, you heard their conversation ending, you couldn’t quite hearing what they were saying, but you knew that you were out of time.

You finally got your window fully open and had half of your body out of it when you father turned around. 

His face changed into pure rage at the sight of you getting away and he ran towards the open window, making a lunge for you. You threw yourself backwards, trying to catch yourself on the tree outside but just missing.

You arms scrambled for random branches and objects to slow your fall and you landed harshly in the buses by your front door. They managed to soften your fall to an extent, leaving you still able to get up and run.

So you did.

You ran to the one place you knew you would always be safe.

You ran to Jaemin.

You didn’t spare a look behind you, not knowing that if you did, you would find out that you weren’t being followed and instead your father was simply watching you disappear from your bedroom window. He was never going to chase you.

Your breath escaped you in desperate pants as you forced your short legs to move faster. For a seven year old, the distance between yours and Jaemin’s house felt like a marathon, each step feeling as though it was taking you further away from him, rather than closer towards.

After what felt like a lifetime, you reached Jaemin’s front door, banging frantically on it. You couldn’t hear anything over the loud beating of your heart, so you nearly jumped out of your skin when the door opened to reveal Jaemin’s mother.

‘Y/n? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?’ She asked, her soothing voice making the tears well up in your eyes again.

You stuttered out a few syllables pointing wildly behind you, not managing to explain anything. Jaemin’s mother shushed you, pulling you close for a gentle hug. You buried your head into her shoulder and cried. You began to sob, fully breaking down onto her as the fear finally escaped you.

‘Mum?’ You heard Jaemin’s voice from further inside the house. ‘Mum, who’s that?’

His mother turned around, allowing you to see Jaemin through the mess of your tears. Even at such a young age, Jaemin was fiercely protective of you, rushing forwards to hug you himself.

‘Come on Jaemin, bring her inside.’ His mother instructed, her tone so refreshing gentle that it made you look up at to check that it was real.

Jaemin kept his hand tight in yours as he pulled you into the safety of his house. The two of you sat at the table while his mother made you some hot chocolate. Jaemin kept one hand on you at all time, not wanting you to feel alone, and wanting you to know that he was there. 

You didn’t tell them what happened, not really knowing how to describe the past minutes of your life. You didn’t understand the full extent of the previous events, but somehow, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

---

You lay in Jaemin’s bed trying to get some sleep, while he lay on a mattress on the floor. You could tell that he was worried about you, he wanted to know what had gone wrong and how he could help. But, for the first time in his young life, Jaemin was completely helpless. All he could do was watch as you had to face a harsh reality.

You rolled onto your side, looking down at your friend who was lying on their back. Jaemin opened his eyes and looked over at you, waiting for you to speak first.

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ You whispered.

Jaemin’s heart sank. He knew that he couldn’t make you talk about anything that you didn’t want to, but he also wanted to know what he could do to make things better.

‘That’s ok.’ He settled on that for a reply, not really knowing what else he could say.

You let out a deep breath, letting yourself finally relax after the long and difficult night you had tackled. Your eyes slowly shut and you listened to Jaemin’s breathing, matching yours with him. You let yourself whisper one final sentence, something lost in the darkness, only ever to be heard by the boy lying on the floor next to you.

‘Jaemin... I think I need to grow up.’

---

You arrived back home, finding the door unlocked waiting for you. You shut it behind you, listening for the click. You had never thought to do that before. You trudged into the kitchen, looking around, expressionless, at the sight in front of you. There were smashed bottles, glasses and belongings everywhere. Paintings had been torn off the walls and trashed, the coffee table by the TV had been thrown over and even the cushions on the sofa had been thrown about.

You knew that this was simply an argument of your parents’ that had gotten out of control. You knew you should probably react more, but you didn’t. You were going to grow up and accept it. You turned your line of sight to the dining table, where your father sat. You held eye contact for a second, neither of you saying a word as he finished the last of whatever was left in the whiskey he was drinking.

‘Can’t get into the back of the lower cupboards to get another.’ He stared you down while saying that.

Your young face didn’t change, you kept the same expressionless reaction on it as you crouched down and crawled into a cupboard. You pulled out the first bottle you saw, another whiskey that was half full and placed it on the table in front of your father.

‘Good girl.’ He said, nodding at you.

You made no attempt to reply in any way. Instead you turned on you heel and headed up the stairs. You paused in front of your room, listening to your mother’s sobs echoing from the other side of her closed bedroom door. You stood there for five seconds before moving inside your room and shutting the door behind you. You ignored it, knowing that it was your reality and you had to grow up and face that.

Then, you got ready for school. 

In the end you got your wish to grow up. But you grew up too fast, the maturity forced on you by the struggles and difficulties you faced, and the trauma that came with them. You learnt very quickly that you either grew up and learnt how to survive, or you suffocated in the hellish mess you call reality.

So you chose to survive.

Would you run away for me?

‘Come on y/n! I’m getting tired of waiting for you. It doesn’t take that long.’ Jaemin whined up at your window.

‘Easy for you to say. You’re not the one climbing out of your window!’ You huffed, careful to make sure that your foot doesn’t slip.

‘Well I offered to climb up but you thought that would be a bit too ‘Romeo and Juliet’, so who’s fault is it really that we’re in this situation?’ He bit back, provoking a large eye roll out of you as you finally reached the ground.

‘Roll your eyes any harder why don’t you.’ Jaemin teased and you stared at him blankly for a second, before rolling your eyes so hard that it almost physically hurt. ‘Alright I stand corrected.’ Your friend grumbled as you laughed and began to skip away.

It was 11pm and both you and Jaemin were supposed to be asleep. But, being the rebellious 14 year olds you were, you decided to go for a walk. Luckily for the two of you, it was summer holidays and your streets were very well lit, meaning that you weren’t really in any danger.

Over the summer holidays, you had found yourself doing this more and more often with Jaemin. Your situation at home hadn’t gotten better over the past seven years, instead spiralling as your mother turned to the influence of alcohol in order to try and find the comfort her husband no longer provided.

Your family consisted of two alcoholic parents, one abusive and the other apparently unaware of your presence, whereas Jaemin’s household included his mother and a father that was attempting to buy his way back into their life after walking out on them ten years earlier.

Jaemin seemed to be the only place that actually felt like home for you, and you didn’t know it, but he felt the same way about you. It was such a blessing for the two of you to have your home as a person rather than a place, considering what state the places were in at the moment, it was probably lifesaving - you just didn’t realise it.

Jaemin jogged ahead of you, climbing up onto a small wall and walking along it.

‘When do you think we’ll get happy ever after?’ He asked, grinning down at you.

‘Get what?’ You laughed.

‘Happy ever after!’ He repeated, yet you still stared at him with one eyebrow raised. ‘What?’ He asked, jumping down and walking closer to you.

‘Jaemin... I don’t really think there is a happy ever after.’ You admitted and his face fell into confusion.

‘What are you talking about? That was the whole goal. We’re gonna grow up together, move away from here and finally get a happy ever after. That was the plan y/n!’ Jaemin insisted, confusion evident on his face.

‘I know it was, but I just think that that’s not really in the cards for me anymore.’ You shrugged, not really thinking it that big of a deal. Jaemin seemed to think otherwise.

‘What? Y/n, I don’t understand where is this coming from? Of course it’s in the cards for you! Do you not remember everything we talked about when we were kids? We used to love to play hero because at the end of it, we always got that happy ever after.’ Jaemin’s voice was turning sad, his face dropping.

‘Come on Jaemin.’ You laughed. ‘There was a reason that was all imaginary. We used to wish for when we could grow up but we had no idea what that really meant. It means letting go of those childish fantasies and facing reality. And reality is, happy ever after doesn’t come to everyone. I don’t want to spend my life chasing something that isn’t even real.’ You said the words casually, almost jokingly as you laughed through it, but they held much deeper meaning that Jaemin seemed to catch on to.

How could you believe in happy ever after when you’ve never seen it?

He nodded, sending you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes before grabbing you by the hand and pulling you into the park. 

‘Race you to the swings?’ He challenged.

‘You’re on!’

---

Anything. You really would do anything for Jaemin. When you said he meant the world to you, you were understating it. You only said that because it was the closest description to how you felt. So when the two of you walked into his home late next afternoon to find his father sitting at the table with an innocent smile, you were prepared to do anything Jaemin needed you to.

‘Evening son!’ His father greeted him happily.

‘Don’t call me that.’ Jaemin spat, his eyes hard. ‘How did you even get in?’

‘Your mother let me in, son.’ Jaemin’s father explained. ‘I-’

‘Don’t call me son.’ Jaemin interrupted, his voice threatening calm but his eyes were wild with fury.

His father took a breath before continuing. ‘I wanted to talk to you.’

‘Great, good talk. We’re going.’ Jaemin grabbed your hand again and heading towards the stairs.

‘We need to talk son.’ His father repeated.

Jaemin visibly tensed.

‘Don’t call me son...’ He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice not so calm anymore.

His father persisted. ‘Your mother and I have been having conversations and, with her new job, we both agreed that it is best that I move back here for the time being so that there’s someone to take care of you.’

Jaemin didn’t reply to that, his face a picture of rage, disbelief and desperation. You could tell that this was the absolute last thing he wanted to happen. His father’s choice to continue speaking did nothing to calm the storm that was brewing in his mind.

‘Now I know that this is going to take some getting used to, but son-’

‘Do not call me son!’ Jaemin whirled around on his father, the shout erupting from his throat. ‘You don’t get to call me son until you’ve acted like a father! You’re nothing but a coward and I want nothing to do with someone like you!’

With that he walked back towards the front door, opening it and walking out. His grip on you hand never loosened, effectively bringing you with him and you just managed to grab the door handle and pull it shut behind you.

You let Jaemin walk for a bit, just following him as he paced around the town. After a couple of minutes of tense silence, you found yourselves back in the park you were in last night. You opened your mouth to speak, but Jaemin got there first.

‘We should go.’ 

Your head whipped around, staring at the boy in front of you in confusion.

‘Go?’ You asked, watching as he turned back to you.

‘Yeah. We always talked about leaving, let’s do it. Now.’ You could see in his eyes that he was being 100% serious, and it honestly made you nervous.

‘Jaemin... we can’t just leave.’ You told him, keeping your voice soft.

‘Why not? We can make it. We just stay together, find somewhere where no one knows who we are or what’s happened to us. Everyone in this town known too damn much about each other. I want to be known as something more than just the boy who’s dad didn’t even want him.’ Jaemin insisted, the raw honestly in his sentences were making your eyes sting slightly. You loved him so much and wanted him to be happy and safe, but you knew that you couldn’t run away, not yet.

‘Jaem, I don’t... We can’t just leave. We just 14... How would we leave? Where would we go? How could we survive with just the two of us? I just don’t think that this is the right time for us to run away. But, trust me when I say, we will leave. We will get out of here, I promise.’

‘The same way you promised we would always get a happy ever after?’

Jaemin wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead he was looking at the gradually changing sky, the way he always did when he had a lot going on in his mind. You bit your lip, the words he spoke hitting you as hard as knives. You meant what you had said yesterday, but you wished you had stopped to think about how it would affect Jaemin if you had said it. 

‘Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?’ You asked him, moving your hand out of his and resting it on his bicep, doing the same with your other. He looked up at you before closing his eyes and nodding.

You smiled sadly at him before moving your arms further upwards and wrapping them around his neck. You pulled his into a tight hug, relieved when he began to hug you back. He held you as close as he could and buried his head into your neck. You could hear his soft sniffles and your heart clenched at the realisation that he was quietly crying.

‘I just wish... I just wish he would let us be happy without him. Mum was doing so well...’ His voice trailed off and you said nothing, just gently stroking his hair while allowing him to say as much or as littler as he wanted.

‘Can we go?’ He whispered and you nodded, gently pulling away.

You held you hand back out for him, which he gladly took, and began the short walk back to yours.

---

Jaemin had spent every night of the past week and a half at yours. His mum worked night shifts at her job so she wasn’t around to see that her son wasn’t at home either. You never minded as your parents took no notice of you so it was nice to finally have some company.

You were sat in the living room together, watching a film on the tv in front of you. Earlier that day you had gone to the shops to pick up snacks and the table in front of you was littered with food. There was a big bowl of popcorn, along with crisps and food and, not to mention, drinks.

You were laughing at a comment Jaemin had made about one of the characters when the front door burst open. You both jumped at the noise and Jaemin immediately paused what was on TV. You stayed quiet, wondering who was coming home at this hour. You knew your mum was also working a night shift and you assumed that you father was working late, but you were soon proved wrong.

You father stumbled through the door, almost slipping on the wall as he tried to steady himself. You shot to your feet, Jaemin following you. In the past few years you had gained the courage to tell Jaemin the truth about the bruises he kept finding on your body, and he knew that if your father was a drunk as he appeared, things were likely to get violent.

Instead your father broke out into a smile, turning around to look at something behind him and laughing. You and Jaemin shared a confused look before you moved closer to the open doorway, hoping to get a look at what he was laughing at. 

What you saw made your entire body tense up with anger.

Jaemin came around behind you and, when he saw the same sight the greeted you, immediately placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

Your father was standing in the hall way, making out with a woman who was most definitely not your mother. You watched as he pulled away from her, accepting her hand to bring him upstairs. You watched them disappear at the top of the stairs, turning the corner towards the room that he shared with your mother every night, and heard the door shut.

You didn’t move, filled with so many different emotions that you didn’t know what to feel. Jaemin gently held you by the shoulders, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He sat on the coffee table in front of you, clearing a small space before looking at you. He kept his hands on either side of your face, pushing your hair out of your eyes and wanting you to look at him. The dazed, unfocused look on your face was beginning to worry him.

‘Y/n? Y/n it’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, you’ve survived worse than this and I know that you’re going to be okay. Okay? Please just look at me?’ Jaemin begged you.

You focused your eyes on him, one emotion in particular drowning out all the others. Anger.

‘After everything he’s put my mum through, all the pain, all the trauma, and it’s still not enough for him.’ You breathed out, trying so hard to keep yourself calm. ‘Is there anything left for him to do? Any pain he hasn’t put her through?’

You turned and stared at Jaemin expectantly but he just looked back at you, completely at a loss of what to say.

‘I don’t know how much more of this she can take...’ Your voice dropped to a whisper, fear taking over your body.

‘Oh y/n...’ Jaemin moved so that he was sat next to you instead. He wrapped you up in his arms and whispered comforting words into you hair. But you didn’t hear any of them. You lay in his embrace, staring at the food on the table that made you feel sick from the sight of it. ‘Let’s go to mine yeah?’ He suggested, causing you to shoot up and shake your head.

‘No, Jaemin, that means staying in the same house as your dad.’ You objected, not wanting to go back on the only thing you could for him - provide a safe space.

‘Better than staying here.’ Jaemin reasoned.

You opened your mouth to argue but a small bang and squeak echoed through the floor boards above you and made your skin crawl. You scrunched up your face in displeasure and nodded at the boy next to you. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the door.

---

You crawled into the mattress on Jaemin’s floor that was set up for you, ready for this day to be over. Jaemin gently made his way around you to climb into his bed. He argued for about 25 minutes about you sleeping on the floor, but you insisted.

He switched off the light and you both lay in silence. You shut your eyes, hoping that would let sleep take over you, but your mind was far to awake to let your body rest.

You began to think about Jaemin’s offer to run away, and how sweet and simple it seemed. Just pack a bag, grab your best friend, and leave this god forsake town behind. Jaemin was right, everyone here knew too much about each other. The whispers on the streets about your father’s drinking, or the bruises on your arms haunted you as you attempted to live your life.

You thought about what it would be like one day. Just you and Jaemin, somewhere completely new, where you could have just him by your side, and always feel safe. Because Jaemin made you feel safe. A place where you wouldn’t have to worry about being afraid of your father. A place where Jaemin didn’t have to worry about his mother or be on his constant guard around his father. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you knew two things about it. One, it would be a place of peace, where tranquility is in the air. And two, Jaemin would be there. Whenever you thought about your future, in any means, Jaemin was always there. You weren’t ever prepared to lose him.

You opened your eyes again, and spoke quietly.

‘Jaemin?’

‘Yeah?’ He replied, not moving from his current position.

‘I meant what I said last week you know?’ You said.

‘Huh?’ Jaemin opened his eyes, rolling onto his side so that he was looking at you.

‘About our happy ending.’ Jaemin raised an eyebrow at your statement. ‘We will leave here someday. And, wherever we go, we’re gonna be together. I promise you.’ You reassured him.

Jaemin didn’t reply, instead he simply moved over, opening the covers for you in a silent invitation. You immediately took it, climbing out of your covers and crawling into his embrace. He wrapped an arm tight around you and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

‘Promise me something else?’ He asked, his voice just above a whisper and shaking slightly.

‘Anything.’ You whispered back.

‘No matter what happens, you’ll always love me and... when the time comes, you’ll forgive me.’ Your heart clenched at his quiet words.

‘Forgive you? Jaemin what do you-’

‘Just promise me. Please.’ Jaemin cut you off, holding you tighter by the second, waiting for your reply.

‘I promise.’

---

Jaemin walked the route that had become scarily familiar to him in the past few weeks. In the times when he couldn’t see you, he found himself drifting here. He wasn’t sure what kept bringing him to this place, maybe it was the fact that it was only area where he really felt alone. To be honest, he felt alone every day, but at least up here, he really was alone, no one was around for miles.

He’d mentioned it to you in the past at some point, but he doubted you remembered.

Jaemin reached the same place he always did and turned towards the view. He climbed over the barrier and sat himself on the edge.

The bridge he was sitting on towered above a river, one that was twisting and turning with the harsh current that tore through it. Every time he came here, Jaemin told himself it was just for the view, but he knew that that wasn’t the reason he always climbed through the safety barrier and onto the shaky beams.

He knew that the view wasn’t the reason he always looked down at the river, finding it more and more inviting with every trip here he made.

Jaemin reached into the pocket of the hoodie he was wearing and pulled out his phone. He switched it on and was immediately greeted with a photo of the two of you. He smiled subconsciously at the sight of your smiling face.

God he was going to miss you.

But he had faith that you would be okay. You were the strongest person Jaemin knew, you could come back from anything. It wasn’t like he was much to miss anyway.

He opened his contacts and scrolled down until he found your name listed. He pressed on the number and lifted the phone to his cheek, taking a shaky breath to calm his nerves.

You picked up on the third ring.

‘Jaemin!’ he smiled at the sound of your cheerful voice, admiring how you could sound so happy when he knew how deeply you were hurting. ‘Where are we meeting today?’

‘Actually y/n-’ Jaemin cut himself off, having to take another breath to stop himself from breaking down entirely. ‘Actually y/n I think I’m gonna be a little late today.’

‘That’s okay. Why though? You’re not secretly making new friends are you?’ Your joking tone didn’t quite reach him this time.

‘Of course not, you know you’re my favourite.’ He admitted, the words truer than they had ever been before.

‘Good, because I’m not letting you pick someone else over me.’ God he loved hearing your voice, he needed this phone call but it was also making this so much harder.

‘Y/n, there’s a reason I’m going to be late today.’ Jaemin began, listening to how you hummed along to show that you were paying attention. ‘On the shelf at the top of your wardrobe there’s a box.’

‘Yeah I know.’ You cut in laughing. ‘It’s a box of our childhood memories, I made it Jaemin.’

‘I know.’ Jaemin whispered, the first tear making it’s way down his cheek. ‘But I put something else in there. Can you grab it for me.’

He heard you mutter out a response and waited patiently for your next reply.

‘Ok I found it! It’s a letter right.’ You asked, missing the pause from Jaemin that lasted just a second to long.

‘Yes. I need you to read it.’ Jaemin instructed.

‘Ok I’ll do that. By the way, how late do you think you’re going to be?’ You asked casually, not realising the importance and weight of the letter that you held in your hand.

‘I honestly don’t know y/n. I might not make it back home tonight at all.’ Jaemin heard your laughs stop slightly and your voice cut back through.

‘Not make it home? Jaemin where are you?’ He heard a chuckle in your voice but could tell that this one was far from genuine.

‘Just somewhere I come to think.’ He muttered. ‘Y/n do you remember the promise you made to me that night at my house a couple of weeks ago?’

‘Yeah.’ Your voice was small, fear starting to come through.

‘Good. I need you to keep that promise in mind when you read that letter okay?’ Jaemin’s voice was almost breaking, the tears falling down both cheeks.

‘Jaemin, what’s going on?’ Now he could really hear the panic in your voice. Jaemin knew that if he stayed on the call any longer, he would never be able to hang up.

‘Read the letter y/n. And never forget, I love you.’

---

You threw your phone at the wall in panic, your breath getting caught in your lungs as the letter stared at you from where it sat on your bed. You ran up to it, tearing it open and began to read as fast as you could, tears clouding your vision as you prayed that you had read the situation wrong.

My dearest y/n,

It’s strangely poetic isn’t it? The first letter I ever write to you is probably going to also be my last. I’ve always liked symbolism like that. But of course, you know that, you know everything about me.

I suppose I should start with the most difficult but also the most important part, the apology. Y/n, I’m so sorry that I can’t do this anymore. I’m so sorry that I’m leaving you alone. I’m so sorry that I’m not as strong as you are, but I’m just not, and I really can’t take this for much longer. It hurts. Everyday physically hurts and I don’t know how else to stop this pain.

I don’t want you to blame yourself. If you did I would never be able to forgive myself. You’re the reason that I’ve lived as long as I have and I can honestly say that, without you by my side, this would have happened a long time ago. You are the best thing that has ever and could ever have happened to me, and I am eternally grateful that I got to have you in my life.

This isn’t me dying, nor is it me giving up. This is me simply choosing a better life, a life that I can actually manage living and a life that feels worth living. I want you to know that I’m not scared so there’s no need to worry about me. Once I’m out of this place, I’ll be okay. My biggest regret, my only regret, is the fact that I have to leave you behind.

Please keep fighting for me. I know that one day you can make it out of this hellhole and escape the ghosts that haunt us both daily.

And I want you to get your happy every after. You deserve it.

All my heavenly love,

Yours forever,

Jaemin

You hugged the paper to your chest, the tears falling down your face unstoppably. You needed to find him, but the problem was, you had no idea where he was. You thought back to what he said. Somewhere he goes to think...

Your head shot up as you bolted out of your door. You only had one place in mind, and it was a long shot, but you would hate yourself forever if you didn’t at least try.

---

Jaemin stared at the phone in his hands, turning it over and over, contemplating the choices he’s made that led him to this position. He sighed and prepared himself for what’s to come. Instead of putting his phone back in his pocket, he placed it on the tarmac behind him before removing his necklace and gently laying it on top. After all of this, he wanted you to have a memory of him.

He stood up, watching the dark waves beneath him and whispered a few words lost in the winds.

‘Goodbye y/n.’

He ignored the sounds behind him and let go of the beam, preparing himself to fall towards to cold water below that was calling out to him like an icy abyss.

Until two hands grabbed his sweater by the shoulders and pulled him back.

He stumbled backwards, tripping on the safety rail as he was pulled back to the tarmac. He began to struggle, wresting his way out of the person’s grip and trying to make his way back to the edge. It took him a few seconds before the voice that was desperately screaming his name.

‘Jaemin!’ He whirled around and found himself staring into your teary eyes.

‘Y/n?’ He questioned, his voice breaking halfway through.

‘Oh thank god!’ You sobbed, throwing yourself onto him and wrapping him up in the tightest hug possible. ‘You’re alive, thank god you’re alive.’

Jaemin didn’t know how to react, his instincts kicked in and he held you by your waist but didn’t say a word, instead just listening to you cry into his shoulder.

You pulled away, only to whack him, hard, on the shoulder.

‘Ow!’ He yelped.

‘Fucking serves you right you dick!’ You shouted. ‘Why would you do that to me?’

‘How did you find me?’ Jaemin stuttered out.

‘I listen to you, that’s how. You told me that this is where you come to think, so I ran.’ You explained, the tears still pouring down your face.

Only then did Jaemin stop for a minute to take in your appearance. Your hair was disheveled, your cheeks red and your chest was heaving. You were clearly exhausted. He forced himself to look at your face, and when he did, he felt his heart break. Tears stained your cheeks, both fresh and dried and your eyes held more pain than Jaemin had ever seen before.

‘Why did you stop me?’ The broken whisper came out of the boy before he could stop it.

‘Because I can’t lose you, I can’t survive without you. If you were to die, I wouldn’t be able to come back from that.’ You admitted to him, moving close to him again.

Jaemin looked into your teary eyes as emotions of his own started to bubble up. He pulled you properly onto his lap, and held you close by your waist, burying his head into your shoulder as he began to cry. You wrapped yourself around him completely, hiding your face in his neck as well and stroking his hair.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ Jaemin hiccuped through sobs, trying to hold you closer even though it wasn’t possible.

You just shook your head, tightening your own arms as you both sat there, two broken teenagers crying into each other on the side of a bridge.

‘Jaemin...’ You began, waiting for his reply before continuing.

‘Yeah?’ He whimpered.

‘I need you to promise me something.’ You said and felt him nod into your shoulder. ‘Anytime, and I mean anytime, you ever feel like doing something like this to yourself again, come to me. Please just come to me and I’ll sit with you and talk with you for as long as you want or need. I can’t stand the thought of losing you.’ Your voice began to break again at the end of your confession, causing Jaemin to pull his head out of your shoulder and look you directly in your eyes.

‘I promise.’ He uttered. And he meant it, he really would. After seeing how affected you were, he knew he could never do anything like this to you again.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his as you whispered the sentence that became his motivation to survive.

‘Jaemin... there’s no happy ever after for me if you’re not there.’

Would you run away from me?

Jaemin stuck to his word, always coming to you anytime he felt feelings similar to the ones that drew him out to that bridge. You didn’t mind, you were often glad to wake up to a call from him at 2am because it meant that a situation like that wouldn’t happen again. You were sure you could survive it if it did.

Three years later and life wasn’t any better. The 14 year old kids who found shelter in a playground were gone and replace with 17 year old teenagers, who were looking for an escape anywhere they could find it. 

Last month, Jaemin’s mother passed away. It was quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened to the two of you, as Jaemin’s mother was pretty much the only figure in your lives who was even slightly paternal. She was the positivity that you both needed, and without her, the two of you were feeling very lost.

Jaemin was now stuck with his father who, now that his mother wasn’t around to make an impression on, had turned back into the cruel, careless man who ran out on the boy all those years ago. As for you, your mother had found out about your father’s cheating. And it turns out, it wasn’t the first time he had done that. He refused to give your mother the freedom she so desperately wanted, so she searched for it somewhere else. You had walked into your house one day, only to walk in on your mother doing Cocain off the kitchen table, trying to find the release that was now only available in drugs.

She had become an empty shell of herself and you often found her drugs lying around the house. Normally you just ignored them, but for some reason, when you found a small bag of Ecstasy in your bathroom, you kept it. You didn’t know why, but it was always there when you reached into your pocket.

You were getting ready to go out with Jaemin, the two of you heading to a party close by. You pulled on your jacket and headed towards your door. You turned back, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything and your eyes landed on the small bag of Ecstasy that was currently lying on your bedside table. After a short deliberation you walked back into your room, swiped it off the counter, and headed out to your party. What’s the worst that could happen?

---

You and Jaemin laughed as the music deafened you. You were drunk beyond the point of no return, and you knew that you wouldn’t be remembering any of this in the morning. The music turned from a heavy beat drop EDM track, to a slightly more sensual number and you, in your drunken state, had no control over your instincts. You pulled Jaemin closer by the neck and wrapped your arms around him. You registered the familiar feeling of his arms snaking their way around your waist and you sank into him more. He moved his head to your neck and nipped gently at the skin there.

You were too wrapped up in the music and being close to each other to notice anyone else around you. You lifted your head off his chest and looked at him. He followed your actions and soon you found yourself staring into Jaemin’s brown orbs, completely mesmerised by the colour in front of you. His hot breath was fanning your face and you found yourself subconsciously leaning in.

‘Yo!’ A random guy yelled, approaching the two of you. You leaned away from Jaemin and turned to the guy who appeared out of no where. ‘Don’t mean to interrupt bro, but do either of you want some Molly? We got masses spare and it’s going out for free to anyone here.’ He held out a bag with some pills in it.

You stared into it, licking you lips at the thought of being even more out of it than you already were.

‘Go on baby, you know you want to’ The unnamed guy in front of encouraged.

You were too far gone to comment on the pet name that, if you were sober would have made your skin crawl, and instead reached into the bag and pulled one out. You surveyed it in your fingers and made eye contact with Jaemin. He stared at you for a second before pulling out one of his own.

He reached forward, nodding at you and you opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue slightly. Jaemin placed his pill on his before repeating the actions himself, allowing you to give him your pill. You both swallowed and fell back into each other’s embrace.

You weren’t sure what you and Jaemin were anymore. He was still the one person you felt safe around, the one person that you wanted in your future, but he had also become so much more than your best friend. Nothing had ever gone further than a few drunk kisses and you never had the courage to ask him what they meant the next morning. All you knew, was that you thought of him as more and... the drug was really starting to take effect.

The surroundings faded into an almost blur, yet the colours became much more vibrant at the same time. The only thing that was fully in focus was Jaemin’s face in front of you, more importantly, his lips. You found it hard enough to stop yourself staring at them when you were sober, meaning it was twenty times harder when you were this far gone.

You didn’t waste any time, choosing to immediately move towards him, pressing your lips onto his. He quickly responded, kissing you back. The alcohol and cigarettes you had shared throughout the night were the only thing you could taste, yet, somehow, you could still taste Jaemin.

There was still so much of him in the kiss that you needed more and more of it. You could feel Jaemin thinking the same thing, his kisses getting more and more desperate, before he broke away and leaned down to your ear.

‘Shall we get out of here?’ He asked over the music.

Instead of straining your voice by replying, you nodded, a grin taking over your face. Jaemin slipped his hand into yours and began to pull you out of the warehouse. You made your way outside, stumbling slightly on the stairs before you were blinded by red and blue lights.

‘Shit.’ Jaemin murmured, pulling you out of sight of the police car heading towards the front entrance.

‘Seems like we got out just in time.’ You slurred slightly and Jaemin nodded in agreement. The two of you ran down a side passage before being greeted with the metal fence that would give you a short cut back home.

Jaemin climbed up first, offering a hand for you which you gladly took and helping you over. You landed safely on the other side and began to walk off, laughing at the close call. If you were more sober than you would have begun to feel bad for all those still stuck in the warehouse, most of them definitely being charged with drug possession, but right now you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on anything but you and Jaemin.

‘Y/n, I don’t think we should do anything when we get back.’ Jaemin blurted out of the blue.

‘Why not? It’s just fun isn’t it.’ You shrugged.

‘But if anything else happens between us, I’d prefer us to remember it.’ Jaemin said, his words serious but the drugs in his system forcing a laugh out of him.

‘I’m always gonna remember you...’ You whined, leaning in to him more.

‘Y/n we should have control over what we’re doing and saying. Sober consent is needed you know?’ Jaemin couldn’t stop himself from laughing now, causing you to start as well.

‘No, you’re right.’ You giggled, trying to calm yourself down. ‘It’s not a good idea. Don’t want to ruin our happy ever after.’ You nudged him.

Jaemin scoffed, rolling his eyes at that.

‘Happy ever after? Really? Come on y/n I thought we were beyond that.’ He looked down at you, suddenly making you feel very small.

The drugs and alcohol in your system were making your adrenaline pump, giving you a major confidence boost, something that you assume was also happening to Jaemin right now.

‘Now you don’t believe in it? Now it’s not okay to want that? What about when I didn’t want that? No, if one of us believes in it so does the other.’ You stood your ground, staring back at the boy in front of you.

‘Grow up.’ Jaemin spat, making you visibly flinch at the tone he used on you. ‘We’re not children anymore, happy ever after isn’t found in a town like this.’

‘God you don’t have to be a pessimist all the time, you used to be so positive.’ You muttered, venom lacing your words.

‘Positive? Neither of us have ever been positive or happy in our entire lives! Do you know why y/n? Because our lives suck. Maybe happy ever after doesn’t exist. Or at least, maybe it does for some, but for others, like us, maybe it’s just the thing that we read in stories, something for us to dream about. Something to distract us from the reality of what really happens. Where things just end. You don’t always get that moment, that final showdown, the big turning point where you realise how to fix everything and its all gonna be okay. Sometimes things can’t be fixed. Sometimes things aren’t going to be okay. Sometimes life just ends.’ Jaemin was full on yelling at you by the time he finished his speech.

His final words hit you like a ton of bricks, sobering you up quickly. You were still very drunk, but your mind was clear enough to read between the lines and realise that he was talking about his mum. You stepped forwards gently, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

‘Jaemin-’

‘Get off me!’ He bellow, throwing you hand off him with such force that you stumbled to the ground. Your body was still foggy, causing you to hit the floor with a much harder impact than you normally would have.

You lifted your head off and stared at Jaemin who was looking at you, an expression of pure horror on his face.

‘Y/n-’ He slurred but you scrambled away from him.

‘Stay away from me!’ You shouted, your voice cracking as the tears easily fell down your face. You felt like the same 7 year old girl who took her first hit from her father. ‘Don’t step any closer.’

Jaemin put his hands up in surrender, his face and voice pleading.

‘Y/n, please, I didn’t mean it, I would never hurt you. You have to believe me.’ He was begging you, almost on his knees.

You stared down at him, the boy you loved in more ways than one. The boy who had always made you feel safe. But right now, he didn’t make you feel any of those things. You felt as though you didn’t know him at all.

You turned on your hell and ran. You left Jaemin standing alone in the dark and ran the full way home. You burst in through your front door, ignoring the yell from your father about disrespecting his privacy and headed straight up to your room. You shut the door behind you and fell onto your bed.

You sat straight up again, the drugs taking over your system and pumping you with adrenaline. There was just one problem, it wasn’t enough. Your hands fumbled in your pocket and brought out the little clear bag with your mother’s pills in them. You popped some more in your mouth, relishing in the alien feeling of happiness that it brought to you.

You watched as the bag started to swirl around, the colours dancing in front of your eyes. Time seemed to fade out of existence and you felt yourself completely disassociate with the world around you.

You stood up, hoping to go to the bathroom but as you attempted to move you found your mind incredibly foggy. You shook your head, attempting to get rid of it, but it persisted. This wasn’t the same, slightly unaware fo your surroundings foggy that you had felt in the warehouse, but instead an, everything around you is fading out of existence kind of foggy, and it was staring to scare you. A sudden chill violent shook you, making you whole body tremble where you stood.

You felt yourself begin to sweat and you pulled at the top that you were wearing. The collar seemed to be getting tighter as the room and floor began to spin. You clawed at your chest as you reached the door to your bathroom, falling over in front of it.

You felt hands on your shoulders and you flinched away in fear, until your brain registered who they belonged to and you slumped into Jaemin. He kicked open the bathroom door and pulled you in after him, sitting you against the bathtub and getting you a glass of water. He pushed the cup to your lips but you flinched away, the thought of drinking any water making you feel physically ill, yet Jaemin didn’t let up.

He eventually got a small amount of water down your throat, and you realised just how parched you were. You grabbed the cup out of his hands and began to gulp at the cold liquid. You pulled at your top again, crying out in frustration when it didn’t tear off you. Jaemin noticed your struggle and grabbed the hem on it, gently pulling it over your head. He had only got it halfway off when your arms took over, aggressively ripping it off. You took heavy breaths as Jaemin fetched you another glass of water.

You sat on the cold floor of that bathroom for who knows how many hours, drinking water, crying and clawing at the aching parts of your body. By the time you eventually started coming back around, you could see Jaemin’s fingers uncontrollably tapping anywhere they could reach. He was still on the come down from his high, yet refused to leave your side.

You reached out a feeble hand to him, and he quickly pulled himself close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting your head on his chest.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He whispered to you. ‘If I hadn’t overreacted then you wouldn’t be in this position.’ He placed a kiss on the top of your head, making any previous fears you had had about him evaporate. You knew that you had your old Jaemin back, the one who would do anything to protect you.

‘It was the drugs, not you.’ You croaked out. ‘But promise me something?’

‘Anything.’ Jaemin replied, his fingers finding their way into your hair to run through it soothingly.

‘Neither of us do drugs again.’ You let out a hoarse chuckle.

‘Deal.’ He said with absolute certainty in his voice. He leaned down again, giving you another kiss on the top of your head.

‘Jaemin?’ You whimpered.

‘Yeah?’ He responded.

‘I don’t know how to be happy, how am I ever going to get a happy ever after?’ You asked him, the question spilling out of your exhausted state before you passed out in his arms.

Jaemin was almost thankful that you had passed out immediately after asking that because, for the first time in his life, Jaemin didn’t know how to reply.

---

It had been three days since your encounter with drugs, and Jaemin hadn’t left your side. You were so thankful that he hadn’t however, as the constant drug use in your house done by your mother, was making it difficult for you to go about your everyday life without having flashbacks to that night. That was the worst you had felt, physically, in a very long time.

Jaemin had gone through your entire room and bathroom with you, gutting the areas of any alcohol and drugs. He also removed any substances or objects that can be used against yourself, making sure that he could protect you as best as possible. You knew that without him, you would never have had the strength to do any of this.

Even though he had seriously scared you on that night, every time you looked at him you saw the person he truly was, not who the drugs had made him become. You knew that that night you had seen the worst side of Jaemin, the side of him that he kept locked in a cage so tightly, he hoped he would never let it free. But when under the influence, he hadn’t had control and the anger inside him had reared it’s head.

He wasn’t perfect. He was far from perfect. He was sad and angry and, by every definition of the word, he was broken. But he was yours. He always had been yours. You had seen him through the absolute best and the complete and utter worst. And he had seen you through yours. You had seen him when his father walked back into his life without warning, the look of betrayal that took over his features as he stared at the man in front of him. He had seen you when your father first hit you, the fear in your eyes and the bruises on your body, you didn’t trust anyone else with them. You had seen him when he tried to end his life, the utter pain and heartbreak in his eyes when he told you he couldn’t handle it anymore. And he had seen you three days ago, shivering and crying on the floor while you tried desperately to hold onto yours.

It wasn’t romantic. Nothing about what the two of you had gone through screamed romance. It was hell, pure unedited hell, but somehow, somewhere along the way, you fell hard for your best friend.

He was safety, warmth, home and hope and rolled into one. If there was anything that you had learnt so far in life, it’s that as long as you had Jaemin, you could handle anything.

---

You walked towards the park, listening as the swings slightly creaked in the breeze.

‘You know if we’d come here a couple of hours later this would be a horror movie in the making.’ Jaemin’s sudden voice from behind you made you jump.

You turned around to look at him, a smile on your face.

‘So this isn’t you coming to murder me? God don’t get my hopes up.’ You joked, watching as you got a smile in return and he moved towards you. You both sat down on the swings next to each other, sitting in silence for a moment.

‘How are you feeling?’ Jaemin asked, concern clear on his face.

‘Better.’ You replied honestly, sending him a reassuring smile. ‘How are you doing? Your dad still being a pain?’

‘Yeah.’ Jaemin sighed. ‘He’s a nightmare, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’

‘I’m proud of you.’ You told him, your voice quietening as if it was a confession.

‘I know.’ Jaemin smiled. ‘I’m proud of you too.’

‘I know.’ You whispered, blinking away the tears that were threatening to gather at this moment. You knew he was proud of you, but actually hearing someone say the words out loud reached your heart. ‘Jaemin, we’re still getting out of here right?’

‘Of course. Just me and you.’ Jaemin nodded.

‘Somewhere no one knows us.’ You found yourself say the same wishes that the two of you had been making consistently throughout the years.

‘Where we can start fresh.’ Jaemin murmured, watching the clouds pass.

‘Somewhere we can be more than this place allowed us to be.’ You closed your eyes wistfully, thinking of this paradise.

‘Somewhere we can be together.’ You opened your eyes at Jaemin’s words, only to find him already looking at you.

‘Somewhere we can be together.’ You repeated, your body taking over your mind as you began to stand.

Jaemin followed your actions, lifting himself off the swing he was perched on. He moved towards you, reaching out with an arm and you stepped closer to him. 

He pulled you in, one arm around your waist and the other cupping your face and he looked down at you. You fit so perfectly in his arms, as if you were made to be there. Jaemin’s eyes glanced down at your lips, and you nodded slightly, giving him permission.

Jaemin leant down, pausing for half a second before finally closing the gap. He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with all the love he had in his body. You kissed him back, desperately hoping to convey your feelings for him through the kiss. You pressed your body into him, feeling Jaemin’s arm wrap further around your waist in response

You broke away slowly, keeping your faces close as you both gently caught your breath. Your eyes opened, looking up into the brown ones that had always brought you comfort. You found Jaemin looking down at you, with so much love on his face that it made you shy. 

You couldn’t stop the smile that broke out on your face, the feeling of happiness that you had been deprived of your entire life, finally taking over your being and filling you to the brim.

You leant back into Jaemin, wanting more of this feeling that only he could provide. He was more addicting than any drug you’d ever taken and more intoxicating than any alcohol you’d ever consumed. You were completely and utterly addicted to the feeling of being loved and being in love.

Would you run away with me?

Three years later, and the two of you have fulfilled your promise and said goodbye to the town you grew up in. You felt freer than you had ever felt before in your entire life, and you never wanted to lose that feeling. The ghosts that had haunted you everyday were now nowhere to be found, allowing both you and Jaemin to start a completely new chapter together.

A couple of months after the death of Jaemin’s mother, lawyers came knocking at his door. They claimed to have her last will and testimony, something that Jaemin’s father didn’t know existed. It turns out that all her assets were left to Jaemin, and since Jaemin was now an adult it meant that he got everything. He ended up having the house, the car and a couple of shares that his mother had stored away. This angered Jaemin’s father immensely, but at the end of the day there was nothing he could do.

It finally seemed as though Jaemin’s troubles had a solution. His father had never gained any legal rights to Jaemin after relinquishing them when he left, so there was nothing the man could do to try and stay in his life and gain any access to the assets.

He was gone by the next morning.

A much happier Jaemin appeared at your door, immediately pulling you in for a hug when he told you the news. You couldn’t believe it. For the first time, things started to actually go your way. Then, Jaemin told you of his plan, it was only thanks to this plan of his that you were ever able to actually get away.

He put the house up for sale and cashed in the shares. The money he would gain from both of these gave you the chance to find a place for the two of you to live. You decided that, as soon as the house sold, you would get in the car and go.

The two of you searched and searched for the area you would move to, wanting to find the right place and, after a while, you stumbled upon it. An apartment just on the edge of the city. Close enough that it would easy to get in for any job you managed to get, yet far enough out that you still felt the privacy of it just being the two of you.

You started looking for jobs in the city, managing to find an opening at a large company. You quickly interviewed for them and were waiting to hear back from them. Jaemin was overjoyed with this news, it looked as though nothing could go wrong.

Then your mother passed away.

It was ruled as an overdose, the copious amounts that she was taking eventually became too much for her. Your father was in charge of organising her funeral, but he did nothing. It ultimately fell to you, and with Jaemin’s help, there was a small ceremony to lay her to rest. You knew you should probably feel worse about it than you did, but over the past ten years you had drifted so far away from her, that it felt as though you were burying a stranger.

Arriving back home after the funeral felt strange. Even though you felt nothing for your mother, you were still glad that you went. However, instead of mourning her death like everyone else there, you mourned the woman who was lost in the haze of drugs and abuse. You mourned the woman who used to sing you to sleep or bake you cookies on a sunny afternoon. You mourned the woman who, sadly, died a long time before her body did.

Your father took this as an excuse to turn his rage onto you. The morning after the funeral, he raised his hand at you, swinging blindly. But the blow he landed on your side was nothing compared to the counter attack that Jaemin launched on him. Jaemin had only been coming around to pick you up and witnessed first hand what your father was capable of. He called the police and you both watched as the man was dragged away in cuffs.

His trial was short. Like Jaemin had said, everyone knew everything about everyone in this town, so your father’s tendency to lash out wasn’t unknown. You watched him with no remorse, wishing him to stay out of your sight, mind and heart for the rest of time.

Then it was only you and Jaemin. 

Like Jaemin, you gained ownership of your house and assets, allowing you to sell them as soon as possible. And, once the final offer on yours and Jaemin’s houses were accepted, you did as you’d decided to and climbed into his car together and took off, watching the town you grew up in shrink in the rear view mirror until it eventually disappeared.

You left everything behind, choosing to only bring with you a couple of prized possessions and each other. There wasn’t anything about that town that you would miss or regret leaving behind. Except, maybe that park.

There were whispers everywhere you went, reminding you of everything you had gone through and it was impossible to escape from anything when you were constantly surrounded by it. You couldn’t cross the bridge without thinking of Jaemin, you couldn’t pass the warehouse without having flashbacks of the night you both took Ecstasy and you couldn’t even walk around you own house without thinking of all the things you’d seen there.

So you ran away.

You often thought back to the days when you were children, playing Peter Pan in your garden and praying to grow up so that you could get your happy ever after.

Well, here you are, all grown up and still searching.

You’ve learnt that things take time to fall into place. Sometimes you have to wait a lot longer than you want to, a lot longer than you think you’re capable of, in order to find that perfect moment. You’ve learnt that you cannot be brave, without letting yourself be vulnerable. But you’ve also learnt, that when you’re vulnerable around the right person, it’s easy.

You don’t know what’s going to happen next. And, to be honest, you don’t want to. Life is an adventure for you now, and it’s one that you’re enjoying living. You know that you haven’t reached your happy ever after yet, and that’s simply because, your story isn’t over. But you didn’t mind, because you weren’t searching for it anymore. As long as you had Jaemin, happy ever after was always going to be right there.

[sixofpomegranates]

Rain in California - Act 1 - Fame

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 3 - Fame🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ |  🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 6.4k

🥀click here for the previous chapter🥀

TW: ANGST (LIKE REALLY),  mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder/abortion/miscarriage, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, mentions of OD, PTSD, Self-Harm/Cutting, religious trauma, past physical/psychological abuse on child/teen, abusive parents, teen pregnancy, murder, injustice, withdrawal symptoms,

Songs in this Chapter:

Heartbeat - Don Johnson

Seven hours and a Gastric Suction later, [y/n] felt like hell.

Her throat hurt and the medication they´d given her didn’t work. Now she laid in her hospital room, in her uncomfortable bed and was mostly angry at herself. [y/n] didn’t know why she had acted so stupid…well, probably because she had been high as hell. Not feeling able to control herself, when taken more than usual.

 She didn’t want to be so erratic, but when she was high, it just all seemed so easy. Saying the things she thought, doing things she normally would never even dare thinking of, not being hurt by others...On drugs she felt free. Herself.

Although she didn’t even know who she was anymore.

 When Spencer was holding her in the bathroom?

That was the first time somebody had said something to her about her addictions, except for ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’, ’It´s not that bad.’, ‘We´re here once you´re ready.’ and ’She´s just having a rough time.’.

It was the first time somebody really seemed to see through her and literally forced her to look at herself in the mirror. To care for her enough to show her tough love. Leroy, Hank and Tom had tried it, but given up on her, sure they supported and cared for her still, but for them she was already too far gone. And they were probably right about it.

 But the dog? He still had wanted to help her, even after she tried being her ugliest.

 She had gone too far, still remembering his face, the terror in it, when she cut her wrist, when she had taken all her pills at once. [y/n] had wanted to hurt him like that, her mind, her stupid junkie mind, had her convinced, that doing it would be a great way to get back at him.

Because she felt hurt, being rejected by him.

 Most likely she had scarred him for life. And now he hadn’t come in, since she was allowed to have visitors, and probably would never come back.

 She has successfully driven away the only one that had still cared enough.

 Now, mostly sober, she felt like a monster, aware that she was a wreck beyond repair.

 Of course she had, in the beginning, thought about stopping. But the drugs were the smaller evil to her, since they calmed her mind and made her forget the pain. She would stay alone forever, unworthy other people´s love, her mind should at least be allowed to be numb.

 *****

 “I came as fast as I could. What happened?”, Philip handed Spencer a duffle bag, filled with [y/n]´s clothing. He had asked him to bring it, since Spencer didn’t know how long she would stay.

“They pumped her stomach and had to stitch the wound on her wrist.”, he stated, making the short manager´s eyes go wide.

“Are you insane? What if they hurt her vocal cords?”, the tall one tried to remain calm, but had to really force himself to not hit Philip.

 Why was that a priority?

 “I didn’t wanna let her die. She could´ve OD´d. What would you have done?”, Spencer asked slightly aggravated.

“Carry her to the bathroom and force her to throw up, until nothing´s in her stomach anymore. Then I usually take her to bed and give her water every hour and feed her soup until she´s better.”, the manager explained and Spencer felt like that had to be a joke.

 “That has happened before?”, he asked baffled and Philip nodded. “Yeah, a couple of times, but she always either took something or cut herself. Never both at the same time. Where you two fighting again?”, he asked reproachful and Spencer felt the guilt sink into his heart. “See, agent Prentiss? This is why I said, [y/n] didn’t need a bodyguard.”

“I´m sorry, but I don’t think that this is the result of having a bodyguard. It´s much more one to them not getting along and [y/n] being highly addicted to a couple of substances.”, Emily stepped in for Spencer.

 The manager just ignored the her obvious insinuation of the rockstars declining mental help, before going into [y/n]´s room. The agents then just looked at each other before going in too.

 *****

 This was the first time Spencer saw [y/n], since they got here. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to be alone with her before. She was laying in her bed, bandage on her left wrist, looking directly at him when he came in. They had taken of her make-up, making Spencer realize, that she was prettier without it. Her jet black, dark hair in a ponytail. To him she looked calmer and softer like this. The real girl behind the façade. Philip was already all over her.

 “[y/n], you look awful.”, he said, shaking up the pillow as she got up a little, to sit.

“Feel like it too.”, her voice sounded a little raspy.

“Poor girl. How is your voice? Do you need anything?” “Fine. My throat´s just a little sore. Can you check me out of here? The faster, the better. That way I can go home without the media knowing.”, Spencer and Emily shared a look.

“The paparazzies showed up an hour ago.”, Emily stated, making [y/n] nod.

 She leaned further back in her pillow and looked at Spencer, like she wanted to say something.

 “C-Can you still check me out, Philly?”, Philip nodded.

“Of course. I´ll be back asap and then we´ll take you home so you can pack.”, he walked outside and [y/n] looked at Emily.

“Can – I don’t know – you maybe go with him?”, she asked her friendly.

 The dark haired woman shared a look with Spencer, who nodded at her. Signaling, that he was okay being alone with the singer again. Emily then nodded and walked after Philip, closing the door on her way out. For a second Spencer thought about leaving the room too. To, no longer, have this black-haired demon take hits against his sanity, but then her voice cut into the silence of the room.

 “I´m sorry.”, she said and Spencer wondered, if she was being honest.

“For almost killing yourself?”, he asked her sarcastically and she shook her head.

“For how I treated you.”

“I´ve been through worse. You´d need to be trying way harder, if you want me to break.”, he answered her cold and she began looking at her hands.

“I´m sorry, I tried pressuring you, to take drugs.”, Spencer shrugged at that. “You were high. If I didn’t relapse after the love of my life was killed or when I was put wrongfully into prison, I won´t relapse because a pretty girl is offering me drugs.” “Doesn’t make it better or okay. I saw the token in your room, when I was looking for my pills. I knew and still did it. You must really hate me.”, [y/n]´s voice sounded like she was about to cry.

“I don’t hate you.”, he said gently, sitting down on her bed. [y/n] let out a self-degrading laugh and looked at him, tears filling her eyes. “No, it´s okay. I deserve it.”, she looked over to her IV drip bag, filled with clear liquid, and hit it slightly. “That stuff makes me sentimental.”, she tried saying jokingly, but sounded just sad.

 Spencer looked at her for a while, thinking about what he could say. He hadn’t thought she would apologize for how she acted and he had meant what he had told her. He didn’t hate her. Yes, she was emotionally draining to be around, it wasn’t all bad though.

 Spencer remembered Philip and how he had talked about the two sides of people.

 “That´s no medication, [y/n].”, she looked at him confused. “You lost a lot of water so…Yeah. What you´re feeling is the drugs wearing off.”, he cooed, holding himself back with the rambling. “Nice. That´s what every junkie loves to hear.”, both chuckled a little. “Hey, I give you ten thousand dollar, if you get me some pills, my head hurts like hell.”, she said it in a joking manner, making Spencer chuckle and shake his head.

“No chance. I´m not bribable.”

“Makes you one of few in Hollywood.”, the sound of rain made [y/n] look to the window. “Can you open it?”, he nodded and got up. “Thanks. I love the sound of rain. People always portrait it to be so sad when it rains, but I think it´s nice…cleansing.”

 He opened the window and sat next to her bed on the chair. They listened to the sound of raindrops hitting the streets for a while, when he decided to take the shot and ask [y/n], what had been on his mind for the last hours.

 “Why are you doing it?”, she looked at Spencer, making a questioning noise. “Cutting yourself, taking drugs.”

“The pain makes you feel alive and the drugs help you hide the side effects of being it.”, Spencer chuckled a little.

“So melodramatic.”

 High, she would have probably devoured him, but now she only smirked and rolled her eyes. By now a certain realness tried finding its way in both their voices.

 “What was your reason for taking them then?”, she asked, leaning in his direction.

 Spencer thought a second, honesty was earned and he wanted her to be honest with him. So he gave her a trust bonus, reviling a bit of his darkness.

 “I wasn’t giving the chance of choosing to take them. I was kidnapped and my tormentor, at least one of his personalities, thought he would help me handling the pain.”

 He could´ve sworn to see empathy in her eyes, but instead of showing it or whispering words of condolences, like so many others would do in this situation, she just smiled.

 “And there I was, thinking you´re just a hypocrite.”, he shrugged. “Well…I am one.” “How?”, [y/n] asked, a little frown appearing on her forehead. “Because you were right. I think you are attractive and maybe my motive wasn’t all just about protecting you at the concert.”, he could feel himself blush.

“I´m sorry for acting out, after…you know.”

“It´s okay. Would you feel better, knowing that I really hated making the decision, to not sleep with you?”, she nodded.

“A little.” “Good. Cause it was. But it was the right thing to do.”, she smiled a little and began focusing on her hands again.

“You see, I get it now and I´m glad, at least one of us, has made a right decision tonight but…I don’t know how I´ll be to you, when I´m high again.”, her concerned voice made him take her hand. Being afraid of your own mind, no longer being able to control it, was something he was very familiar with. “Then don’t be. We could get you into rehab.”

 [y/n] chuckled and took his hand with both of hers, caressing it with her thumbs. She seemed to be thinking. Making Spencer believe she may be taking his offer. But the longer she thought, the more obvious it became, that she was losing to something dark inside her head.

“Would be a waste of time.”, she whispered, her playfulness gone, as if reality just slapped her into the face.

“But if you continue like this, you´ll be dead soon.”, [y/n] gave him a gentle smile.

“You always say that, like I don’t plan on dying with twenty-seven.”

 For a second he tried reading her, hoping she was joking, having made those suicidal jokes a little to often in the last days. When he didn’t like the answer, he prepared himself to hear it from her.

“Do you?”, she nodded. “I´m going to join ‘Club 27’ and then drift into oblivion. My songs and everything I did, only becoming an relic from the past.”

 The way she said it, made it sound like she had already made peace with that decision. It frightened Spencer, making him think of how to make her re-think it.

“What about your friends?”

“There´s only the band…and I started pushing them away from me, a long time ago. I saw how it will end for me and decided not to have it hurt them, like it hurt me, when I found my mom.”, he shook his head. He refused to accept this as an answer.

“And what about yourself? You can’t just feel like dying is the only option.” “It´s not. But it´s the most relieving one.”

 The calmness in her voice and body language showed him so much. What had driven her into that state? A state were death was seen as a relieve, because everything else hurt too much. Depression. She showed signs of it. Many people with addicted use it to cope with their mental problems. What had happened to her? His mind traveled back to the day before, to the only moments when she had let her façade slip.

 To the silver bullet that would kill her.

 “What happened to your baby?”, he asked her stern and she looked at him defeated.

“Oh, I see…I´ve been profiled. What do you think happened?”

“You lost it.”, she nodded, but he continued, carefully watching her body language. He wanted answers, but would stop when she would get too uncomfortable. “Probably because of your abusive father.”, she nodded again, seeming a little numb to his words. “Was he religious?”, the black-haired girl chuckled and answered him a little sarcastic.

“Depends on how religious you´d call a reverend. Why?”

“Religious trauma or trying to shock people. Your music, I mean.”

 For a second [y/n] let go of his hand, making him rest in her lap. Spencer refused to pull it away, if she would start talking, he wanted her to know that he was still there. He had, by now, enough pieces of the puzzle, showing him a dark picture of her past. A reason, why she tried to be high so often.

 Reality was a sharp knife and its cuts couldn’t hurt so bad, when you numb yourself.

 “My father was always hitting my mom, but when she then took off, there was only me and him. He forced me into the mold of the perfect, religious daughter and when I wasn’t as obedient as he would´ve liked, he´d make me read the bible for hours and beat me senseless.”, she started gesturing to her stomach and chest area. “Of course only hitting me in places, nobody would see the bruises. When I was fifteen, I got caught trying to smoke for the first time, by a teacher. As they notified my father, he locked me into the dark broom closet for a week. Out of spite, I then started smoking regularly and met a boy through it, Daniel.”

 Spencer watched [y/n]´s face light up for a second. She looked like JJ or Rossi, when they were talking about Will and Krystall. Like he probably did, when he was thinking about Maeve.

 “He went to the same school as I and his abusive parents were addicts, like my mom had been. We kinda bonded over that and would sneak out at night, spending hours together, talking about the stupidest things. Thinking we were so deep and intellectual. He, at one point, started stealing his parents weed, so we could get high together. Made getting beaten easier. The time with Daniel was the first and last time I ever felt those butterflies. You know? This childish feeling of love?”

 She smiled at him as he nodded, remembering those butterflies too, but then the smile darkened and she took Spencer’s hand again. As if to try and hold onto him, shielding herself from the dark memories creeping up.

 “I got pregnant with sixteen. A shame. I managed to hide it for a few weeks and Daniel and I came up with the childish idea of running away together. We thought, we could just get jobs somewhere else, buy a home and become a family…Like foolish kids.”, her self-degrading laugh broke Spencer’s heart, as she tried swallowing her tears.

“And it didn’t work.”, he whispered and she only laughed, voice dripping in sarcasm. “Of course it didn’t. A woman from church had overheard us talking and the rumor of me being pregnant was already out there, since I threw up so often at school. So she thought she would help me, if she told my father.”, Spencer squeezed her hand a little. “You wanna know what he did?”, he shook his head.

 “What?”

“He waited for us to meet at night. As I crawled out of the window, he stormed outside with his shotgun and confronted us. After I admitted to being pregnant he hit me, making Daniel step between us and start fighting with my dad to protect me and the baby…and my dad- he-…he then just shot him. In-…In cold blood, just pulled the fucking trigger.”, [y/n] voice was filled with disbelieve. Like she still wasn’t able to believe what she had seen.

 “My father then grabbed me by the hair and tried getting me to go back into the house. I, obviously shocked about him just shooting my boyfriend, refused to and so he started beating and kicking me, till I stopped fighting back…Needless to say, I lost the baby after that.”

 As a few tear ran down her face, she let go of Spencer´s hand and wiped them away. Letting a cynical laugh follow.

 “That’s not even the best part of the story. Nothing happened.”, Spencer looked at her frowning.

“What do you mean with ‘Noting happened’. He shoot a teenager. Weren’t there any repercussions?”, she shook her head.

“No. Because he told the police, that he came outside to me screaming, because Daniel was beating me. Angry at me, for being pregnant. He stated that he just did what he had to do, to protect me.”, he shook his head in disbelieve.

“Weren’t you questioned? Didn’t you tell them what really happened?”

“I would try telling, but nobody believed it. Because the reverend, a pillar of our community, would never do such thing. They thought I was just lashing out and framing my father, because I was high and angry at him for shooting my boyfriend...Daniel´s parents didn’t even care, too high to get what had happened. After that, I wasn’t allowed to go to school anymore, in fact, I wasn’t allowed to do anything anymore. My father taught me at home and every Sunday I was allowed to go to church and pray to have my sins being forgiven.”

 Spencer nodded at the amount of information she had just given him.

He felt bad for her, started to understand her, started to hate her father and the cruel injustice she, Daniel and the baby had suffered.

Why had they only once, tried to get her into therapy?

The amount of suffered trauma had to end in a situation like this, left untreated.

It was eating her alive, suffocating her, and everybody who saw it, just slapped the ‘She´s gonna be okay’-Band-Aid on this gashing wound, moving on with their own life´s, while she was losing the battle inside her head. He got up and sat on the bed next to her, she scooted a little, giving him some room to lean back too. As he lifted an arm, [y/n] rested her head on his chest.

 “Then how did you get…viral…?”, he looked at him and the confused spoken word, smiling.

“You know about that?”

“Luke.”, he answered and she nodded. “I wasn’t allowed to have a phone, but I was allowed to use our computer once a week for an hour. I would record myself singing and playing guitar on our shitty webcam and started uploading it, not thinking anybody would ever see it. With eighteen I got in contact with this guy, he said he was in the midst of establishing his own record label and he would love to pay my flight to LA, taking me under contract. I accepted and just ran as fast as I could, before my father could get me.”

 [y/n] again laughed cynical. Seemingly a coping mechanism of hers, to play down the pain and severity of things and situations.

 “When I arrived, he then offered me to stay with him, if I´d be…you know…nice to him. He earned a shit ton of money with my music, while I got nothing…But everything was better than going back home again.”, she sat up a little, so she could look at Spencer, again with that sparkle in her eyes.

 “At one point, when I didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, I had to work at a pizza restaurant to afford rent. There I met Leroy, Tom and Hank at the Open-Mic-Night. I told them a little about what was going on and Hank sued that guys ass. He didn’t want anything in return…just happy to help me. If you think Hank is scary now, you would have shit yourself, seeing him in court!”

 Both chuckled. Spencer could, thankfully, only imagine how terrifying the fifty year old biker could get.

 “After winning the case I asked them if they were interested in becoming a band and we made some demo tracks with the money I had gotten. The label took us under contract and introduced us to Philip, who became our manager.”

 “But you weren’t into anything but marijuana. How did we end up here?”, she sighed.

 “The label has a lot of expectations surrounding me. One of them was for me, to go out and be publicly seen with their other artists, for the image. They were taking a lot of stuff and I always said no, sticking to weed. But somewhere along the line, I wanted to know how it felt. If my mom was right, for choosing it above me. And I think I get it now. Everything I told you before? My dad, my baby, Daniel? They´re gone. I´m able to standup for myself and not letting me being pushed into something I don’t want, like when that creep wanted me to whore myself out to him, just so I´d have a roof over my head. Life is just easier that way and thankfully shorter too.”, Spencer pulled her closer.

 “I like you like that.”, he almost whispered. “Depressed?”, [y/n] snickered and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Real.”

“Only fair. I´ve been a real bitch to you, the whole time.”, he shook his head again. “Not that bad.”, she hit his chest gently, while giggling. “Oh, please. I can handle it. Come on.”, he sighed playfully, admitting the truth. “Okay, yeah. You´ve been a bitch.”

 They laid there for a while, [y/n] seemingly thinking, before she talked again.

 “You´re gonna pass on babysitting duty for me now, I guess?”, she asked hesitant, making him chuckle.

“Nope. I´m gonna stay.”, [y/n] sat up and looked at him, like he had completely lost his mind.

“Why in the world, are you doing that to yourself?”, Spencer shrugged. “Savior complex.” “I´m not worth it.”, he shrugged again. “I know. But the sober girl inside you is. You know? The one that knows my name, speaks French with me while playing Mozart and puts a blanket over me when I fall asleep while reading.”

 Then she asked him something that hit too close to home. Revealing a reality he liked to ignore.

 “You can’t save everybody. You´re aware of that, right?”, he nodded as she laid back into bed, her head resting against his chest again. “But I can try.”, Spencer whispered against her ear.

“Would you mind just watching TV with me? Withdrawal headache´s a bitch.”

 Spencer grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. After many attempts of finding something interesting, [y/n] stopped him from switching the channels. They had come across an 80´s music special. Something with the name ‘Heartbeat’ by Don Johnson had just started playing. Although [y/n] didn’t move a lot, Spencer could tell she was excited. Moving her lips along the lyrics.

  “I don't care what you say

You can give it away

 Your money don't mean much to me.

I've been out on my own

Gonna got it alone now

 'Cause that's the way it's got to be.

Ev'rybody tells me how I can beat the odds for now.

Well I've been standing by the fire

But I just can't feel the heat.”

  “That’s a great song.”, Spencer shrugged, again not feeling too much connection to the music. But it did sound nice. At his shrugging she hit him a little and put on a badly played face of disbelieve and shock. “Show some respect for the classics!”, he laughed at her words. “Respect for the classics? You called Beethoven a deaf bitch.”, now [y/n] shrugged. “Touché.”, she giggled, laying her hand on her head as if to ease the pain.

  “Looking at me

It's easy to see

 You think you know just how I feel.

If you do to me wrong and it won't take me long

 Before my restless heart will heal.

I'm looking for a love

Love like mine”

  “That was good music back then.”, she whispered against his chest. “Heart break, real emotions…love that stuff.”

“Why don’t you play more of it then?”, Spencer asked, Luke in his mind telling him about their music just no longer trying to hit the feelings. [y/n] giggled a little. “I´m guessing…Luke told you?”, he nodded and she let out a sigh. “Remember when I told you about the label having expectations? Every song I make has to go through them first, before being released. At one point, I had nine songs, completely done and they only greenlit one of them. Told me the others ‘weren´t my style’, ‘not exactly my genre’ or ‘wouldn’t speak to my audience enough’. So I just stopped looking for the deeper emotions. Still love the music I make, but the feeling´s dead. My lyrics helped me coping at the beginning, but the restrictions the label set me, ended that.” “Why don’t you just write those songs again? It doesn’t matter if anybody hears them.”, he suggested to her chuckling in response.

  “They tell me it's so hard to find

But I can feel it in the rhythm of the heartbeat in the street.

 Heartbeat - I'm looking for a heartbeat”

  “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound, mon amour?”, Spencer looked at her for a second, flustered by the realness she let him see.

“Yes. For me it would.”, he told her, making her giggled. “I probably lost my ability for stronger emotions anyway. But thanks, Spencer.”

 His heart skipped a beat as she said his name.

  “Heartbeat - I'm looking for a heartbeat

Beating like mine.”

  As the door opened Spencer quickly jumped up, Emily looking at him with a lifted eyebrow.

 “Uhmm…Hello?”, she asked, more meant as a ‘What´s going on?’. Philip walked in right after her, not having seen the both of them more or less cuddling in the hospital bed.

“Oh no, it´s raining again.”, he sighed as he closed the window and stepped aside for the nurse, who took out the IV from [y/n]´s arm. “Okay. I got you released from hospital, [y/n]. I have the papers and ta-da.”, he handed her a white little paper bag. “Your pain medication and antibiotics for the arm.”

 “Thanks.”, she answered and passed it over to Spencer. “Ca-Can you…so I take them correctly?”, he looked at her confused.

 “You sure?”, she nodded and Spencer smiled at her. Baby steps. “Of course.”

“I thought Dr. Reid would stop his bodyguard duty, now that you´re going to stay with me?”, [y/n] shrugged.

“I- I don’t know.” “You know, I can protect you too.”, Philip insured her. “Yeah…but I would feel safer with my guard dog around.”, she looked at the tall man. “Only if you´d be okay with that, Spencer.”

“More than okay.”, Spencer smiled at her, making her smile back.

“O-Okay, that´s fine. That´s gonna be fine. Dr. Reid can sleep in my office. Now get dressed, so we can pack your stuff at home.”

 Philip handed [y/n] her black duffle bag, Spencer had put on the floor next to her bed. She opened it and pulling out some jeans and a black sweater. When she tried to get up she was a shaky on her legs, but managed to go to the bathroom. Spencer stayed close to her, being able to catch her in case she´d fall. When she closed the door behind her, he looked at Philip and Emily.

 “How many paparazzies are out there?”, he asked and Emily held her breath, shortly thinking.

“Too many. Just checked before coming in. You guys better think of a plan, if you don’t want [y/n] to be seen by them and become five o'clock news.”, both men nodded and then looked at each other.

“Okay…so, Philip? Where do you park?”, Spencer asked. “Outside, visitors.”, he nodded and looked to his friend.

“Me too. Emily, you?”

“Car park.”, she answered and Spencer handed her his key.

“Okay. We trade. I take [y/n] home in Emily´s SUV. Emily takes [y/n]´s car and you, Philip, you just drive to the mansion. Maybe we can make them think she´s still in medical care, that way.”, all of them nodded to each other, not really knowing what more there was to tell. Not knowing if the plan would even work.

 *****

 When [y/n] looked in the mirror, in the tiny bathroom of her hospital room, after washing her face, she felt okay. Horrible, but okay.

 Feeling kind of stupid, having given Spencer her medication. It had felt right. But she didn’t know why. Did she want to make him happy? Well, he certainly was. But honestly? Nobody just stops being addicted for one person. Having your addiction tendencies being bound and under control solely for another person than yourself probably never works in the long term.

She knew she would have to stop for herself and that just wasn’t worth it.

She just wasn’t worth it.

Spencer would leave again, he was just another person in her life that would vanish, never to be heard from again. Her life would move on, just like it did now and that was it. It was okay like that. There wasn’t much to be expected anymore and she had made her peace with it. Having lost the will to try years ago.

 Somehow she had decided however, to enjoy the few moments she would still have with this man. A man she barely knew, but yet, felt so interest in. A man that either lived his best boomer life or just simply lived in a cave without Wi-Fi, giving his lack of knowledge by simple words like iconic and viral.

 Maybe it was his lack of interest in her Rockstar persona, that intrigued her. She had heard him and Philip outside of her room. Spencer had not given a single fuck, that her voice could´ve been ruined by having her stomach pumped, as long as she didn’t die. That was nice. Being more than an expensive voice. Being counted as a human.

 She wanted to know more about him, had given him her silver bullet, as a sign of trust. Now she wanted his or however much he was willing to give. Being high would ruin it, being high would maybe have her forget something. [y/n] knew she would still need to take the bare minimum of her drugs, so the withdrawal wouldn’t kill her, but for now she would like to be semi-clean. The headache and the freezing being acceptable.

 She had put on her fresh clothes, liking that they didn’t smell like cigarettes, wondering why she even smoked, when everything just started to reek and ruin the nice smell of her lavender perfume. Was it still out of spite, because her father didn’t like it?

Maybe she would quit…on the other hand…maybe just reduce them a little. For now, she didn’t have any, anyways. She would probably need some chewing gum.

 When she walked out of the bathroom Spencer smiled at her, stepping closer and his hands cupping her face.

 “Hey. You okay? You´re a little pale.”, she quickly nodded, her heart beating as fast as it always did shortly before a concert.

“Yeah, just not wearing any makeup, so…”, he shook his head, thumb stroking her cheek.

“Uh-uh. You weren’t pale like that before. You feeling sick?”, actually yes, she did.

“A little.”

“We´re gonna get you something to eat later and then you should take a nap. Philip is going to drive in his car and we´ll meet him at your house. Emily already left.”, [y/n] nodded, quickly stepping away from Spencer. She hadn’t even noticed Philip still being there, while he smiled at them.

“I´m gonna leave now and you guys just go to the garage and wait a few minutes. When something happens you call me, okay [y/n]?”, she nodded, Spencer taking her duffle bag as Philip hugged her and then left.

 She and Spencer went to the car park, her having the hood from her sweater pulled into her face, hoping nobody would recognize her. The last thing she wanted was a media scandal, so shortly after the her teen-pregnancy was brought to light. People talking about the ‘out of control’-Rockstar almost dying due to an overdose. Not that they were completely wrong, but still. She hated when strangers acted like they knew her, only because they read one of those crappy articles.

 When they got into the car Spencer turned on the seat heating, without saying a word, only smiling at her. Why was he so nice? Was it his savior complex or did he just have a great personality?

 Driving to her mansion in silence, they were met with an array of paparazzies in front of it. Spencer parked across the street. [y/n] quickly fixed her hair, should they notice her and start making photos.

 “Tinted windows, they don’t see you.”, he told her, making her relax.

 For a second she thought about how much she hated this. The flashes of the cameras pointed into her face, only inches away from it. Asking her inappropriate question, because fame cancelled out the right of privacy. They were always waiting for her to do something, to be put on a blast for.

 Maybe she could just, a little longer, be a no one. Like she seemed to be, alone with Spencer.

With Philip, she never had even five minutes to herself. Yes he was nice, but he was so in-your-face sometimes. Smothering her with care.

 “Spencer?” “Hm?”, he turned to her. “Would it be okay, to just go undercover?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows. “Undercover?”, her cheeks flushed a little.

“Yeah…get a hotel room and some junk food maybe…” “What about Philip?”

“I´ll text him…I- I´d just like to be alone.”, he nodded at her words, already starting the car again. “Oh, sure. I get that.” “Alone with you.”, was that sentence too bold? “I know. Already thought so.”, he put a hand on her thigh, gently squeezing it. She smiled at this gentle gesture. “Any hotel okay?”, he asked her, as she laid her hands on his, wanting to make sure it stayed there. “Sure. But you´ll need to get the room. I tend to attract attention.” “Really?”, he asked in a playful voice, as he pulled into the main street. “Yeah, apparently I look like this one singer from a rock band.”, she answered, giggling, even though it killed her head. “Huh, weird. Wouldn’t have noticed.”, he almost whispered, seeming to have noticed it.

“Maybe we should get me some nicotine patches too.”, she smiled, making him look at her surprised.

“Stopped smoking?” “Yeah, thought I´d try it. Maybe you can smell my perfume better like that. Lavender.”, Spencer chuckled. “Sexy. Kissing a smoker only seems good in the movies.” “You know movies?”, she said, playfully mocking him. “Russian and black-and-white ones.”

“You´re a little nerd, huh?

“Hope that’s not a deal breaker?”, she looked at his little worried, almost insecure look.

 Yes, the junkie who just ruined his night, by having a mental breakdown, would think a nice, smart guy that liked watching ‘Dr. Who’ was a dealbreaker.

“It´s actually kinda cute.”, he let out an adorable giggle and for a second she could feel her heart skip a beat.

 *****

 Spencer had gotten them a hotel room in a small hotel with individual, private entrances. Definitely not as classy as [y/n] was used to, but private enough, not to be seen. Before, he had bought her nicotine patches and gum and they had gotten some pizzas.

 Now her arm was plasters with some of the patches and they sat on the bed, eating pizza and watching ‘10 things I hate about you’, making him see just how quirky [y/n] could be. Singing along to every song, telling him how much she loved watching it, secretly at a friend’s home, as a teen; giggling like crazy when something funny happened and gushing over things she thought to be romantic. Spencer had given her her medication and the withdrawal, at least in the moment, seemed to be manageable.

 After the movie she had insisted on him picking something, making him extremely nervous. He didn’t think that any of his picks would have her enjoy the next two hours, but she didn’t let him say no. So he put in an old black and white movie called ‘La Dolce Vita’, about a week in the life of a philandering tabloid journalist living in Rome. He laid down in bed and signaled [y/n] to come closer. She had quickly cuddled up beside him, seemingly touch starved by the way she held him close. A very familiar feeling for Spencer.

 After he had begun stroking her hair, she had fallen asleep faster, then he had fallen for her.

 Seeming to like every side of her, every part, no matter how damaged or ugly. Spencer had pulled the sleeping girl a little closer, gently kissing the top of her head and smiling to himself. What he had smelled two days ago, had been lavender. He drifted of as well, only waking up half an hour later, when the credits woke him.

Turning the TV off, before laying close to [y/n] again, now spooning up behind her, face buried in the crook of her neck, arms wrapped tightly around her.

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To be continued...

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[themysteriousauthor18]

Drinks and a lame party. [HuskerDust oneshot]

Artist of picture above: 

Alright, @randompersonnumber3​ and @spiderwithatommygun​ This ones for you two.

Fair warning. This is my first time writing HuskerDust. Still hope you enjoy it

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             To say Angel was having fun would be a load of bullshit. He groaned from his spot against the wall of the large ballroom. Tonight Charlie, Vaggie, and that strawberry pimp had organized a party for to people of hell. Or simply put, to get some demons in this place. 

When the spider heard ‘party’ you could imagine his excitement looking forward tonight. He hadn’t the chance to have been at an actual party in a month thanks to Charlie and that shit. But as he looked across the ballroom this was not his idea of a party.

He grimaced as he looked again. 

Classical music filled the room, like something rich people would play at one of them fancy parties. What was worse, every demon in here was dressed all nice, men in suits women in fancy dresses. Hell, even the food was fucking refined. 

 Even he himself was forced to wear this classy clothing. Pink blazer white pants, something similar to what Alastor had thrown him into on the day he showed up.

At least he got to wear his boots.

Where was the loud club music! And the flashing lights, the smell of sex and drugs, the alcohol shitty food, and people in shitty clothes! 

Angel huffed, his mind backtracking a few steps. 

Wait.

Alcohol.

As if his mind followed his new train of thought they traveled across the room. Tucked against one of the far walls, sporing his white button-up and tie was the bar cat he always messed with. Angel grinned, a new idea coming to his mind. 

Putting his plan into action Angel strutted over to the bar cat.

Husk was in the middle of pouring some high-class demon a drink in one of those wine glasses. She was a cat-like demon, her fur a dark brown. And that red curly hair matched the classy dress she wore. 

As he got closer, Husk not even noticing him yet, he realized that the same demon was taking her own jabs at him. “Oh come on...I’ll make your night more interesting than this.” She purred, her tail wagging a little. Husk was obviously uncomfortable and giving about the same reaction he did with Angel’s flirting.

“Fuck off.” Angel snickered when the cat girl cocked her head back. All in the same minute she got up from the bar and walked away with her nose up in the air. His brows only knitted together when he caught sight of the spider taking her place on the stool.

There wasn’t anyone at the bar beside the two of them. Everyone was busy trying to harass Charlie for this only to be backed up by Vaggie and Alastor. And Nifty was busy picking up any little speck of dirt left by these fools.

So that just left them.

“What do you want.” Husk growled, he didn’t sound angry his voice was just naturally deep like that. Not that it bothered Angel. His cheeks were also a light tint of pink, so he assumed Husk had already been drinking, that wasn’t surprising. 

Angel smiled, leaning the lower sets of his arms on the bar while the first pair supported his face. “Oh come on Husky, you know by now.” While the tone of Angel’s voice suggested something else, he was in fact talking about alcohol. Husk groaned again but was already getting a bottle. And like Angel had found the winged cat doing lately, he grabbed two shot glasses and set them on the bar before pouring.

“Surprised your not dead with that kid throwing you around all night.” He was referring to Charlie showing Angel off as her newest ‘project’. He didn’t really like that word but didn’t care enough to do anything about it.

“I could say the same to you.” Angel laughed, picking up one of the shot glasses and effortlessly throwing it to the back of his throat. Husk seemed to do it at the same time before both their classes hit the counter again. “With girls like that? Thought ya woulda killed someone by now.” 

Husk used his tail to hold the bottle and fill the glasses again. He laid an arm on the counter while the other picked up the glass. “Compared to bein around you for a few months, they ain’t shit.” Angel snickered, shooting his shot back again.

“Awww, that’s so sweet.” Husk rolled his eyes, his ears folding back as he looked away for a moment. 

“Your more annoyin’ then them. Ain’t hard.” Angel’s smile didn’t falter despite the counter. Husk had a hard exterior but in these few months, Angel had come to know that he had a soft side too. And he had been lucky enough to see it for himself. 

“Oh stop, your makin’ me blush.” Angel joked, despite his cheeks actually tinting a light pink from the alcohol. Husk rolled his eyes, ignoring him. 

For a short time, the pair fell silent just exchanging drinks and trying to ignore the classical music that penetrated both their ears. (Yes Angel has ears.) After about four shots neither were perse drunk but both had a healthy amount of red to their cheeks. It was then Husk spoke up, “do you wanna go sit in the lobby and continue this? This shits hurting my ears.” Husk complained his ears pressing down to his head as a response. 

The music had gotten a little louder, that or the alcohol made both of their senses hyper-aware. “If ya wanted to be alone with me ya coulda just asked.” The spider purred with a smirk.

Husk was already moving away from the bar in the ballroom, one Alastor had just conjured here. His tail had hooked itself around a stray bottle as he walked away from the bar. “If your gonna be like that then your ass can stay here.” He grumbled. 

“No no--” Angel grabbed the cat’s arm as he was about to pass him. Husk didn’t exactly jerk away from him but he did flinch. “I’ll behave.” A lie.

Husk knew it was. But whether it was the whiskey in his system or just some stray moment of kindness that didn’t belong there, he found himself saying “then come on. My fucking ears hurt.” 

Angel grinned happily at the invitation and followed Husk out of the room. The opening and closing of the door were barely noticed by anyone in the room.

The lobby was quiet and empty. 

The pair took refuge on one of the couches far too large to be normal. They promptly continued their drinking once Husk grabbed a few extra bottles from the bar in the lobby. As they continued their shots somewhere at some point they began to exchange stories with each other. 

“So then I blew his head off and took the cash.” Angel laughed, and Husk found himself laughing too. 

“You just shot him and left.” Angel, still laughing nodded. 

“I mean, the sex wasn’t bad but like, he wasn’t gonna pay so.” Angel made a gun with his fingers aiming it at Husk. “Bang.” He said playfully and resumed his laughing. Something rare happened then. And Angel witnessed it first hand. 

The bar cat was smiling. 

Angel stopped laughing for a second and set his shot down. “Is that a smile I see?” He grinned, Husk rolled his eyes. His smile promptly fading. He shook his head. Angel found himself frowning as well.

He sighed leaning forward and covered his arms face. “Sorry sorry. Fuck I ruined it.” He muttered. Husk looked at him confused. Before he could ask why, or question why he cared, Angel looked at him with guilt lacing his face. “It’s just...nice to see ya smile. Y’know? It’s, nice to see you happy for once.” 

Husk stared at Angel for a time, his ears perking up and tail swaying. Angel stared back, worried he’d only made it worse. But the pair of lips that suddenly pressed to his said otherwise. 

The spider didn’t hesitate and easily melted into the kiss that tasted strongly of whiskey. He grabbed the fronts of Husk shirt tilting his head and the bar cat didn’t seem to mind. Angel had through it would go were these things normally did. But the denied acess past his lips and to his mouth seemed to say otherwise. 

Still, he didn’t push Angel away. In fact he pulled the spider onto his lap to which the other greatly complied. He kissed the spiders lips not with hunger but something similar to desire. His claws rested on the tallers hips and Angels sets of hands rested somewhere on Husks shoulders or chest. 

After a minute the kiss finally broke, both panting heavily. The smell of alchoahul and whisky in both of their breaths. But as Angel leaned back in he was promtply stopped by the claw on his chest. He looked at the bar cat confused and baffled. Husk only met the spiders eyes, not with anger like he expected he had looked strangly calm.

“That’s enough.” He said softly. Angel frowned, pouting slightly. “Oh don’t give me that look. Your drunk an’ I know what happens with this shit when your drunk.” Angel sighed, leaning down and resting his head on Husks shoulder. He expected the cat to push him off, but he only felt the claws come to hold him a little tighter. 

Angel let out a weak laugh into the silent hall. “So ya’ just kissed me ‘cause your drunk?” There was a long pause and an aduible gulp on Husks part. A shaky breath escaped his lips. 

“No.” Was all he said. But that was enough for Angel. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes...before Husk gently pushed Angel back. Once again he met the spiders eyes, but this time his expression came with a smile. “Now drag your ass to your room before you fuckin’ pass out here.” Angel blushed, smiling himself. Husk ears folded back in relization of what he was saying. His own cheeks became a shade redder as he looked away. 

“I mean..you know how fuckin’ hard it is to drag your ass up those stairs.” Angel huffed out a laugh as he climbed off the cats lap. 

“Alrigh’ I’m goin’. Wouldn’t wanna worry ya.” A more sincere tone carried his words compared to the usual teasing. Husk watched the spider pause at the bottom of the stairs, about to go up them. But he looked at the bar cat and gave a genuine smile. 

“Goodnight...Husk.” That unfamilar feeling he hadn’t felt in years...that feeling he’d been afraid to feel again swarmed his chest. And without realizing it the corners of his lips pointed up. 

“Goodnight, Angel.” The spider stared surprised for a momment. He waved, finally heading up the stairs. 

Once Angel was out of sight the cat-demon groaned holding his face. 

The racing of his heart.

That strange tingling feeling on his lips. 

The warm feeling.

The cold feeling of him being gone.

“Fuck..not again.”

[mrwinterr]

Happy

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader

Summary: You meet your favorite artist and get more than what you bargained for. 

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual and protected sex, oral [male and female receiving], vaginal fingering, belly bulge, light degradation) dirty talk/language and recording. Mentions of drugs and alcohol and a tiny bit of angst.

Disclaimer: I don’t smoke regularly, so anything that has to do with drugs mentioned are techniques I’ve outweighed based on what I’ve been taught by different people. I don’t know which method works best nor am I encouraging the activity. It just came with this fic’s territory. It’s not that deep. You do you, boo. 

Title Inspiration: “Happy” by The Maine 

A/N: I might or might not have based some of this on true events. All I can say is, life is short, shoot your shot! Enjoy! 

A/N #2: There’s a Part 2 now!

“You owe me.” Your friend next to you said for probably the third time this hour. You learned earlier in the day to tune her out. She had been saying that since you persuaded her to accompany you on the weekend long road trip to the neighboring state just so you could see your favorite band…again.

Growing up your parents thought this was just another phase, but as your teenaged years passed on by and you’re now well into adulthood, you’re still a bigger stan for The Avengers as ever.

The Avengers consisted of three members: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes. Everyone had their take on each of the guys, Steve was the nice one, Sam was the goofy one and Bucky was the bad one. It was silly. They weren’t *NSYNC or The Backstreet Boys, but the fangirls will be fangirls.

Their music wasn’t exactly mainstream, but they did very well within in their genre’s scene. They graced the covers of a couple of magazines, garnered thousands, close to millions, of views and streams online, were featured on TV every now and then, toured around the globe, sold a bunch of records, even independently, but despite all that notoriety, they stayed true to their sound and that’s what kept you around as a fan.

That and the band’s front man Bucky Barnes. 

He was hot – plain and simple. Ok, maybe he was just that to most, including your friend who couldn’t deny it, but you didn’t want to objectify the man. What their music had done to get you through the years, they were more than that. There was a level of respect there. You also didn’t buy into the “bad boy” gimmick the fans have dubbed for him. They were human beings just like the rest of us. Imagine being called something like that by the public? They just so happened to be fortunate enough to share their talent to the rest of the world.  

“You’ve already seen them. I don’t know why you think you need to for what a tenth time?” She clearly wasn’t amused by your infatuation with the band, but she was still your friend and she would always be by your side through thick and thin even if she didn’t have the same taste in music as you. You loved her for that. Who else would stand for hours in a dark room full of loud, sweaty, smelly, rude even, and sometimes drunk people with no self-control for you? She really was the real MVP.

And she was right though. You’ve already seen The Avengers perform. It was probably more, but you’ve lost count. Whenever they’re in your city or two to four hours in the next one over, you loved this band alright!

You both were polar opposites standing next to each other in line waiting for the venue doors to open. She was calm and still, arms crossed with an unamused look on her face – she could almost play as the “mom that tagged along and didn’t want to be there” – but you knew she wasn’t really mad. There was a bar inside she could occupy herself at. You on the other hand were trying to contain your excitement. You tried your best to not fidget around in anticipation so much. You didn’t want to sweat off your makeup that you managed to apply on point or get an embarrassing stain on your clothes.  

“It doesn’t matter,” was always the response you gave her, “their music means everything to me. I’ll always come out to support them.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and scoffed a bit at that. She wasn’t trying to knock you down. She knew you deeply liked the band, but she also knew another side of you, and she liked to pick at it. “Yeah that and you’re into Bucky,” she said and just flat out poked at the side of your breasts. The bra that you chose to purposely wear tonight gave your boobs an extra push and it didn’t go unnoticed by her. They were out there, tastefully, since you were hardly the flashy type. 

“Okay, but who isn’t?” You flare back swatting her hand away and trying to shut her down. You didn’t need to have this conversation with her while other fans were around. You didn’t want to sound like a fangirl. You weren’t 13 anymore.

“Chill.” She said raising her hands up in surrender. She wasn’t going to fight you on this one again.

When the top of the hour hit, the roar of the crowd signaled the doors had opened. Once inside, you hit the line to the bathroom considering you’d been outside for a few hours. You didn’t just have to pee, but you needed to freshen up. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from standing in the heat. You dabbed lightly at your face with a small blotting sheet, sprayed a bit of body spray and finished putting every hair back into place before finding your friend, who was already at the bar.

You sported a 21 and up paper wristband that was handed at the entrance, however you weren’t planning on drinking. Usually you had one or two drinks at most, but you were assuming you would be the designated driver tonight. You just always flashed your ID to the bouncer for the wristband to emphasize that you were of age. Unfortunately, some bands have had a bad reputation of fooling around with underaged girls, who lied about it.

She held up her drink to you with a smile on her face. Yeah, you were going to be the one driving back to the hotel, but at least she’s happy. She tried to coax you into ordering a drink of your own, but you only shook your head at her nonsense and stood away from the crowd.

As an avid concert goer, you’ve been to enough shows that you’d been in every section of the crowd. Hell, you’ve even gone crowd surfing before! Plus, you couldn’t hang with those vicious and hormonal fans in the crowd anymore, so you learned to enjoy the show from the back with a full view.

The opening bands were decent. You’d never heard of them, one was probably local, but you always believed live music was just as good, if not, better than opposed to being recorded and remastered at a studio. 

During their sets, you caved and bought a drink from the bar, hoping it’d help to pass the time before the headliners came on. Your friend was seemingly on her phone when a random guy approached you asking if he could buy you a drink. The house lights were on. Did he not see the can of beer in your hands? You politely declined his offer and further advances until he gave up and walked away.  

“Girl. He was cute!” Your friend said shoving you lightly.

“I wasn’t interested,” you shrug and taking a swig of your drink. 

“You’re not being fair,” she started and seeing that you weren’t catching on continued, “you can’t wait around hoping that one day Bucky will notice you. Honey, he came here to play a show and make money not look for a girlfriend.” Okay, maybe that was a bit harsh, bursting your bubble like that and all, but her intentions were good. Bucky Barnes just set the standards too high.

She wasn’t wrong. Guys like Bucky meet new people every day, met girls probably way prettier than you. The majority of their fans were female because let’s face it, the guys had sex appeal and you know what they say…sex sells.

Looking around the venue, you took in the kinds of girls you were going up against. There was a mixture of women of different backgrounds and sizes decked out in different styles, but the ones who won most of the time were the ones that looked good dressed in risqué clothing and heels. Some of them probably even wore less make-up than you or none at all. You couldn’t understand how it was effortless for some people.

It wasn’t that you had low self-esteem. You had your fair share of internal struggle, so sometimes your insecurity played its part. You had your good days and you had your bad days.

You decided upon wearing something simple that you would be comfortable in while still serving a look. And the only other significant thing you did to your make-up was add in a little more shimmer. Yeah you wanted to impress, not sell your soul to the devil.

“Okay, but I just really wasn’t interested,” you said again hoping she’d understand. She did, aware you wrestled with that demon in your head always taunting and ridiculing you that you could look better when you’re perfect just the way you are. With an added bonus of telling you that Bucky was missing out if he hasn’t noticed you already, she ordered another drink in time before the lights dimmed and ear-piercing screams erupted to alert that The Avengers finally took the stage to headline the show.

Like each of the shows you’d previously attended, they were amazing. They poured their hearts out with each beat and belt. Every lyric resonated with you so deeply. There was just so much raw emotion packed into their performance. The beauty of concerts was that they were designed to let you forget about all the bullshit happening in the world for a few hours. They were therapeutic for you.  

If you hadn’t known any better, you’d say your friend secretly liked The Avengers’ music because she broke you out of your shell and had you swaying along with her to their songs…that or it was the alcohol taking over her. You didn’t fight it and you allowed yourself to let loose.

You tried to give each member equal attention, watching them as they played, but you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Bucky the most. They were just trained on him. His cheeky smile and onstage presence were electric. The mere sight of him, all sweaty as his clothes stuck to his skin accentuating his toned body so well, all but had you shuffling trying to ease your body’s frustration and mind.

The only time you looked away was when you swore you thought he looked at you. Making eye contact with someone on stage was kind of awkward sometimes, but with him it was almost intimidating. Believing he was probably staring at the girl behind you, you downed the rest of your drink, pushed that thought away and tried to enjoy the rest of the show.

A full set of songs that showcased their albums and a two-song encore later, you were driving yourself and your buzzed friend back to your hotel room. It wasn’t that far from the venue, electing to stay within its vicinity. Upon entering the room, you tossed the shirt you bought at the merch booth on your bed before removing your leather jacket while she face-planted down on her bed, arms wide open, letting out an exaggerated sigh of relief. You couldn’t blame her. It felt great to rest right after standing on your feet for hours.

Your back rested against the headboard, you knocked your boots and socks off a while ago and had your bare feet up on your bed. You hadn’t changed out of the rest of your clothes or even wiped off your make-up yet. Instead, you sat there skimming through the timelines of your social media accounts while you waited for your friend to get out of the shower.

You had posted a few photos and videos of the night to your story, like your outfit, a few of you and your friend sightseeing, and of The Avengers’ set. You refreshed your timeline and noticed Bucky’s account pop up before everyone else that you followed. It’s no surprise that you were following them on social media. You liked seeing them share the personal moments of their lives. They used to be interactive with their fans. Bucky had even once commented on the old photo you had with the band years ago.   

You met them after a show when they were just starting out with their first full-length album debuting that summer. Now, they hardly came out because all it took was one crazed fan to ruin it for everyone else. Their popularity sometimes deemed it unsafe for venues to let them stick around so late, restricting them from meeting their fans.

You click on Bucky’s account and go through his story. There was one of a view of the open road from their tour bus, a clip of a song he liked, a cryptic quote with a deep underlying meaning to it, him getting ready to go on stage and then of the show.

He had taken a photo of the crowd towards the end of the set, asked fans to tag themselves if they could, because the crowd was amazing…as if they didn’t say that in every town they played in.

His caption read: “Awesome crowd tonight! Probably our best show yet!” topped with how much he loved the city. Sometimes you wanted to reply to his posts like he was one of your friends, but then you second guessed yourself knowing he’d never see the message, or he would and just ignore it because he was busy. You knew it was a long shot, but what did you have to lose and what is it that they said these days? Shoot your shot.

You didn’t linger on the body of the message for too long, settling with a “Great show tonight! You guys were amazing as always! :)” hitting send and closing out the app thinking it would conceal any embarrassment that might come out of it. It was a ridiculous thought.

After surfing through the channels of the TV and picking at the food you had delivered to your room, your phone pinged. You saw that it was a notification from your social media account, but once your face unlocked the phone and the subject appeared, you nearly choked on the drink you were sipping on.

Bucky Barnes sent you a message.

Your heart pathetically started beating really fast. The phone almost slipped from your hands as you opened up the toxic app again to read what he said. He probably just sent you an emoji or something.

“Thanks for coming out.”

That was it. Okay, what did you except? A proposal. That was a fair response. He probably had some downtime and was able to reply to people. You couldn’t be that special…but thinking you could strike gold again, you started typing up a response.

“Of course! Will always be out there to support you guys! Hope the city treats you well and have a safe rest of the tour.” Yeah, that was a good one. You say to yourself thinking that would be the end of it…except it wasn’t.

“Appreciate it. You know of any good spots around here?”

Nope. You did not. Do you look up some recommendations for him? No, that’s too much. Great, you’re having a conversation with him through DMs and you can’t even genuinely contribute enough to hold it down.  

“No, not really. I’m not from here actually. My friend and I drove here just to catch the show. Maybe YELP?” Shit. You just might’ve effectively got rid of him with turning him to the Internet instead.

“No way! That’s love. Good thinking.” They came through in separate text bubbles.

Why were guys so short? You couldn’t work with that. You thought about it for a while but came up with nothing, so you sent the sassy ‘girl sticking her hand out’ emoji as a reply. Damn, you were really bad at this.

Several minutes passed by and thinking you were really done with him; you got another message. It was Bucky again and he sent you a photo. It was from your own feed; the group photo of you and his band mates all those years ago.

“I thought I recognized you.” You sat up straight as you read that message over and over, eyes bugging. Thankful your friend was taking her sweet time in the bathroom, so she wouldn’t see you all strung up.

What? There’s no way. That was a long time ago. Your thoughts spiraled at his words that had you blushing. He’s pulling your chain.

“Impossible. That was forever ago!” I guess two could play this game then.

“I swear. You tripped and fell into my arms that night.”

What the hell? He actually remembered that? Yeah, that did indeed happen. You had been waiting outside surrounded by a bunch of other chatty girls, pushing and shoving their way to get to Bucky first. By the time he turned to you and you stepped forward, you lost your footing and fell straight onto him. He played it cool, but then you heard Sam, who was trapped in his own circle of girls, signing and taking pictures away, that Bucky has girls falling for him all the time.

“OMG. That was so embarrassing, and I was so awkward!” You couldn’t even speak to him when you managed to hold your own ground. You were young then, you thought you effectively put that behind you.

“You weren’t awkward! You were cute and that’s what has stuck with me since. One of the most memorable moments.”

Yup, he was definitely pulling your chain. While you were ecstatic that you were interacting with your favorite artist, you couldn’t help but wonder why you. He was a public figure and you were just a fan.

“Is this weird?” Came through as his next message after your silence. 

Oh, no. I hope I didn’t offend him. You might as well tell it like it is and get it off your chest.

“I don’t know...just a bit. Probably because I’m just a fan? I feel like you should be careful. I mean I should be too…” You really did wonder though. How was it that people of his status were willing and freely open to people they barely knew only to get threatened of being leaked and blackmailed by their own nudes or messages? What made them trust the other party so easily with that kind of stuff? They couldn’t be that dumb. Well, you got your answer.

“I don’t think of you or anyone as just a fan, but you are right…at the same time I feel that you’re grounded enough and a good person that we can trust each other. If that makes sense.”

You weren’t sure if it did. He still didn’t really know you.

“Awe, well that’s really flattering. I totally understand that because that’s how I feel.” Did you? There was a pause between that message and the next that would come.  

“What’s your cell?”

Really? It was just that easy? Oh, okay then. Nonetheless, you still gave him your number. The DMs stopped and transferred over to text messages. You have Bucky Barnes’ phone number. What fan fic were you living in? Shit like this doesn’t just happen, does it?

The texts between you and Bucky went back and forth, some playful and some slightly suggestive, but you were completely oblivious to them thinking that was just in his nature. You found out the band was staying in for the night before heading back out on the road tomorrow afternoon off to the next city. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath when you stared at his most recent text asking if you wanted to hang out. It was kind of late, but you didn’t get a guy like Bucky Barnes asking you to hang out on the regular.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questioned breaking your train of thoughts. You could see her from your peripheral that she was towel drying the ends of her hair even though you’re still staring at your phone.

“Bucky sent me a DM inviting me to his hotel room.” You answered in a stoic demeanor, but it felt really strange coming out of your mouth.

“Okay. How long was I in the shower?” Your friend asked with her hands on her hips wanting an explanation.

You recount the details and show her the messages you and Bucky had been sending to each other. She scrolled through each of them and you could see the look of apprehension forming on her face.

“I don’t know,” she said her words trailing before giving you a worried look, “shouldn’t you be the slightest bit concerned?”

“About?” You ask taking your phone back from her.

“All of this!” She exclaimed her arms outstretched in exasperation and not understanding why you were so blinded by Bucky. “You briefly met the guy, years ago might I add, and you decide it’s okay to meet him at his hotel room in a city you don’t even live in?”

Alright, it did raise a couple of red flags, but you were a consenting adult and you lived a life of being cautious and in fear a little too much you wanted to be reckless for at least one night.

“I know you’re only looking after me, but I got to go for it. You know I like him! Sure, I may not know him on a personal level, but I’m allowed to have some fun, right?” You try reasoning with her. Just how different was all this compared to what people around the world were already doing with each other anyways?

She was a bit skeptic before reluctantly agreeing and letting you go but with the promise from you to be careful, share your location and his room number with her just in case she needed to save you or come after him. You thanked her for understanding and assured her that you’d be back before check-out in the morning.

On the drive to his hotel room, you thought about how you always imagined the different scenarios of what it’d be like when you’d ever meet Bucky again. What things you’d do differently or say. How you’d make sure to not trip or do something to embarrass yourself the next time. How you’d be more confident.

Parking was a pain in any city’s downtown, you ended up having to pay for parking twice in one night. Not surprising to you, they stayed in a nice hotel. It wasn’t over-the-top nor was it fancy, but it was definitely clean and a slight step up than of what was in your budget for booking a room.

When you’re finally at his door, you wonder if you were going to be catfished. Were there other people in his room? Were you really that special? Fuck it. Was the final thought, putting an end to the rest, and knocked at his door.

You hear a click and sliding of the chain door unlock, then you’re face-to-face with Bucky. He’s dressed down in sweats and a zip-up hoodie. He shoots you a smile and steps aside for you to come inside, there wasn’t much light offered to illuminate the room other than the ones the lamps attached on the wall between the beds and what little the TV could provide.

“Oh, thank God. You’re real.” Motherfucker. Did you really just say that?

Bucky laughed at that and you explained, honest with him, that this whole thing just felt surreal. He nodded in agreement, offering to take your jacket from you and a drink. It was alcoholic. Not denying him, you accepted it and waited to see what he would do next.

You watch him sit down on the king-sized bed with his feet up, one foot over the other. You’re standing there next to the dresser that also served as a stand for the TV he was watching a random show on. Not sure what to do, you set the drink aside, kick off your boots, leaving them next to the luggage rack, and sit on the spot next to him with a considerable amount of distance between your bodies.

It’s quiet and you’re trying to hush the voices in your head. Did he really invite you to just watch TV with him? Is this awkward for him? Oh, no. He’s going to realize I’m boring.

You feel the bed shift and you see Bucky is leaning over, opposite of you, to grab something from the nightstand. You don’t see much of what he’s doing as your view was blocked by his large back. When he changes positions, a brief spark of a flame emits from his hands. Your eyes trail up from his hands to his lips and notice it was a blunt. You were pretty sure this was a non-smoking room, but it wasn’t under your name, so it didn’t really matter in the end.

Of course, he did that kind of stuff. It was part of the lifestyle to be exposed to it. He took a steady hit and you watched as he exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke disappearing into the air in front of him.

“Want a hit?” He asked passing and offering you the blunt.

It’d been a while since you last smoked anything. You tried it a few times and even then, you didn’t think you did it right. You stare at the neatly rolled blunt in between his thumb and forefinger, but not too long as to not let it go to waste and ash up all over the bed.

You steadily take it from him and carefully attempt to take a puff. Wrong. That puff was anything but steady. Not realizing how close you were actually sitting next to Bucky, when you tried to exhale you ended up coughing – terribly. Bucky’s face scrunches up as he braces for the impact of white smoke to hit his face.

“Oh my God,” you say covering your mouth in disbelief, but it was a bad idea because your body didn’t like that, and you ended up coughing even harder.

“I’m so sorry,” you manage to get out in between your coughing fit while passing him back the blunt and trying your best to waft at the smoke. Well, if you thought your first encounter with Bucky was embarrassing. This had to take the cake. It wasn’t proper etiquette to blow smoke in the other person’s face.

He waves it off letting you know that it wasn’t a big deal before taking another hit. He even begins to give you a few pointers to inhale in increments, until you get used to the smoke. You don’t even notice the long looks Bucky gives you hit after hit. You take a second to let the smoke stay in your mouth before you give it a second inhale, letting it process through your system before gently exhaling. It was a lot of fucking steps to remember.

“Don’t try to put too much emphasis into the exhalation,” he said as he watches you take another hit, almost perfecting it and with each puff and pass being deeper and longer than the previous, “see, you’re getting the hang of it!” He whimsically lifts his hand up for a high-five that you softly pat in return, but he seizes that moment to hold your hand instead, intertwining his fingers with yours.

The more you breathed in the more your body started to relax. All the edge was taken off and you felt good. You and Bucky continued to pass the blunt, smoking whatever was left of it and what he had with him, as you told random bits of information about yourselves to one another. By now, you and Bucky were leaning on each other, backs against the headboard, the TV barely audible as it continued to play a rerun of whatever that was on earlier.

“You know I really do remember you?” He says causing you to turn your head to look down at him. He has his gaze fixed on your hands, his thumb barely grazing the back of your hand. He’d been playing with your hand, drawing random shapes on it.  

“That’s hard for me to believe,” you answer back truthfully.  

“Why?” Bucky questions while looking up at you. He was in a slouched position, his hoodie and shirt rising up, allowing you a thin glimpse of his skin, while you sat a little higher up than him. 

You admired his handsome face, the crease lines in his forehead, the faint and not so faint marks scattered all around it, his wet lips that shone when he ran his tongue over them and the stubble that surrounded it all down to his adorable nose. Then there were those blue eyes that once put you in an overawe of intimidation, were now a bit alarming in a new sense. They were swirling and growing darker.

“You meet new people every day, Bucky. There’s no way that I could’ve been that unforgettable to you.” You just couldn’t wrap your mind around that. Staring at him, you tried to read him, but you were too faded to concentrate.  

“But you were,” he tells you in a low voice just before you notice his eyes shut and he leans in to place an experimenting kiss to your lips. He pulls back to quietly study your expression, and when you don’t show any sign of disapproval, he goes in for another.

This time with added pressure, more emotion, Bucky pulls you down by the back of your neck and casually slips his tongue in your mouth the moment your lips parted. Your heart started racing when you reciprocated his kiss, trying to keep up with him. He definitely liked to dominate. You could even slightly taste the blunt you both shared moments ago as his tongue tangled with yours.

He slips off his hoodie leaving him in a dark gray shirt. Navigating his body over yours, he pulls you down into a more comfortable position. He’s cradling the side of your face as your lips continue to move one another, getting hungrier and hungrier.

The movements cause your top to ride up, exposing your midriff. His hands wander down to caress your skin before you feel his fingers grip at the waistline of your jeans. You instantly grab his hand and stop him. This was moving all too fast for you.

Bucky didn’t press on it for too long and slipped his fingers out, running his hand back up your side and this time underneath what your tank top was covering left of your upper body. His hand snuck back out and started tugging at the material bunched underneath your breasts. When your top was finally discarded to reveal your red bra, he latched onto your neck, kissing up along your jawline and nipping at your ear, the sound of his harsh breathing sent a tingle at the contact and shivers through your entire body.

You winced when you suddenly felt one of his hands at the back of your head, yanking a handful of your hair causing your head to snap back. It gave him more access and you closed your eyes letting the sharp pain run its course and turn into something pleasurable as he practically devoured your neck. You could feel him inhale deeply, getting high on you, and possibly the lingering aroma of the drugs, and sucking tiny splotches onto your skin then licking to soothe them.  

He pushed aside the straps of your bra as his lips travelled down your shoulder before stopping at the curve of your breasts. You briefly opened your eyes to see him fixated on your chest. He uses both hands to grope them.

“You think I didn’t notice these from the stage?” He asks now looking at you, squeezing and releasing them before pulling your bra down, your breasts spilling out of the cups. He instantly latches his mouth onto a nipple, while the other hand digs in between the mattress and your back to unclasp the bra. His tongue swirled around the nub, teeth lightly grazing and sucking at the skin around it.

You run a hand through his hair, it was a little sweaty and you couldn’t blame him. It was getting hot; you could feel the heat radiating off of him. It became even more apparent after he got rid of his shirt and you feel his clammy skin on yours.

He pulls back, straddling your waist, most of his body weight falling on his knees, careful to not to crush you. Your hands cascaded down his chest and rested at his thighs. You gave them a shy squeeze, something you’ve always dreamed of doing and you were only slightly satisfied.

Bucky flashes you another smile before he braces one hand next to your head and leans back over to fish something off the nightstand. When he pulls his other hand back you notice he’s going through something on his phone. Curious, you look at his face trying to get another read at him, but this whole night was just full of surprises. He finally looks at you before speaking.

“Can I ask you something and you promise not to freak out?”

It depends.

“Yeah…” Who were you kidding? You’d gladly get on your knees for this man. He swooped in for another hard kiss, your mind turning into mush just before you could get anything else out.

“I think it’d be so hot if we recorded ourselves,” his face was so close to yours making sure that your focus was on his and only his. He must’ve felt you shift because he allowed more of his weight to drop; he was closing in on you and it was like you almost had no chance of escape. You weren’t going to lie. The way his weight was crushing you and sinking you deeper into the bed felt really nice. You were speechless. He wanted to record a sex tape with you.

“I travel so much,” he starts listing off reasons why while still cradling the side of your face again, your hand bracing his forearm, and starts kissing your face, “it gets really lonely being on the road.” At this point, he’s probably kissed every inch, “I’d love to have this...it’d be so much easier for me to come thinking about you.”

Motherfucker. His dreamy voice speaking those words into you did one hell of a number because you were aching down there plus the way his hips dragged at your still jean-clad lower region didn’t offer much relief.

“I-I don’t know,” you hesitate for a bit. What if his phone got hacked and the footage leaked?

“It’s just for me, baby. I swear,” he asks with hopeful eyes.

Sure, you could’ve had the strength to say no, but you were more than willing to be everything he desired. With your consent, he sealed it with another wild kiss. The magnitude of it setting you ablaze.

Bucky sets his phone back on the nightstand, propping it upright, camera on front face mode to display the both of you on its screen, and at the perfect angle he hits the red record button.

It’s showtime.

He revisits the mission of removing your pants and is this time successful. If you both weren’t so faded, he’d probably have an easier time taking them off, but they were tight, and you were grateful he didn’t clumsily break your ankles in the process. Chucking them somewhere off to the side, with his fingers, he traces the top pattern of the matching red lace panties you had on.

He let out a faint chuckle commenting on how red is his favorite color. Oh, you knew. You precisely chose this set just in case you got lucky. He plants kisses to your hip bones, his lips evading the area that cried out for his attention the most, and slithered down the bed, so he had your calves now placed over his shoulders.

Bucky laid gentle pecks on them and came back up to start nipping at your inner thighs, most likely leaving his mark there also, until you felt the tip of his nose hit your center. Your panties were definitely a deeper shade of red at this point. He pushed your panties to the side enough to get started.

You feel the pads of his fingers begin to rub circular motions at your clit. The first wave causing your hips to jolt involuntarily. You feel the smirk that formed on his face against your thigh at your body’s response.

“So sensitive,” he says pushing your hips back down to continue his task at hand, “and so wet,” he added while pulling his fingers away to examine your arousal that coated his long digits. You don’t take your eyes off him and you almost forget how to breathe when you watch his lips wrap around his fingers, noting his eyes closed and how his cheekbones become more prominent on an already perfect jawline as he sucked them off clean.

When Bucky opens his eyes, they’re darker than before, clouded with lust. He roughly yanked at your panties, still in his other hand, effectively tearing the overpriced garment. After giving it a few more tugs, it was long gone. Headfirst in between your legs, Bucky craved for more of you. He licked a broad strip, down up, to your clit. His tongue teased your folds before dipping inside you, the intrusion causing you to gasp. Your body withered around desperately searching for a path to release. Bucky kept at it, his nose nudging your clit with each plunge his tongue made.

Not denying you of a finish, he adds his fingers into the mix, curling them to find that spot. Noting that your eyes had closed sometime during the act, he stills, and you whine at the sudden halt. Your hand aimlessly reaches out to his face. When you find it, you open your eyes and pick your head up to find out why he had stopped. Bucky offers one of his hands for you to hold on to before speaking.

“Baby keep your eyes on me,” he orders, and his eyes don’t leave yours as his head lowers back down to your pulsing heat. You struggle to keep your eyes open and head from lolling back in ecstasy because you desperately wanted to come. Fuck, he was so talented.

The noises as a result of his onslaught were downright sinful. Bucky’s hips started to ground into the bed trying to relieve some friction of his own. His moans tremble across your entire body. There’s no warning when you come, and you don’t even give him a chance to escape your thighs that clamp around face. Not that Bucky minded, feeling you clench around his fingers as he drank in more of what your body had to offer. Bucky only then emerges when your legs fall limp against the bed.

He plops back down next to you, but as he does so, he pulls you on top of him. Your lips reattach themselves with his and the raw nature of tasting yourself on his lips drive you both mad. He hadn’t even wiped around his face, so you feel the wetness on his chin scrape across yours, staining you with your own arousal.

Your hands moved on their own from planting themselves on his firm chest then working their way down the ripples of his abs, through the trail of hair leading to the top of the waistband of his sweats. You tauntingly pulled the drawstring to loosen it before letting it go and instead grip him through the soft material. Bucky grumbled at your actions, but let you carry on.

You palmed him, getting a feel of how thick and long he was. Bucky was growing whiny with each passing move your hand made, he took matters into his own and grabbed your hand, shoving it into his pants. Your hand instinctively wraps around his hard cock and you give it a light squeeze and a few strokes, generating long drawn out moans to spew from Bucky’s mouth.

His cock felt even better with nothing separating you two. Bucky’s pants and boxers easily slide down his muscular legs, which spread apart to give you room. You maneuver south to lie on your stomach, still in between his legs, and grab his member that was curved resting at his stomach and bring it your face.

“Wait,” he says almost breathlessly. Your mouth is only inches away from the head already weeping profusely. He sits up to rest on his elbows and retrieves his phone from the nightstand. Oh.

“Okay, smile for me,” he directs, and you follow his lead before your tongue darts out at his slit and follow the ring around the tip of his cock. You pull back to savor his taste for a moment, your hands spreading the pre-cum around his shaft. Your strokes are then accompanied by the long licks you give at the sides and to his balls that your other hand had been playing with. Bucky’s head rests on his pillow so his other hand could rest on the back of your head and guide you down his length. Your mouth immediately started to water, but it made it easier for you to bob up and down. He let you move at your own pace for the most part. Bucky pushed your hair off to the side, away from your face to get a better view of the outline of his cock poking at the inside of your mouth. You let his cock drag across the inside of your cheeks a few times until it audibly popped out of your mouth.  

“Fuck me. I knew you’d be perfect.” His words mixed with his incessant moans were like honey pouring into your ears. He loved the way your eyes looked directly at him through the camera lens when you come up with a long tantalizing lick to the underside of his cock and crawling back up to straddle him.  

Bucky gets a good shot of your flushed face and breasts that had some of your drool combined with his pre-cum running down your body before dropping his phone beside him. He sits up causing you to fall back down at the other end of the bed. He picks out a condom from the nightstand and you watch as it rolls down the length of his cock. You bite your lip watching it twitch.

He’s on his knees, but sitting on the balls of his feet, you are lying down patiently waiting for him. He swipes his cock through the wetness of your pussy, prepping himself to slide in. He’s watching your reaction with each pass his dick makes. Your body is yearning for him to be inside of you, to hit that fucking spot over and over.

Just when you think he’s about to do it, he’s reaching over for that damn phone again. Out of habit, you cover your face with your hands. Not only showing the last shred of humility you had left, but also because you probably looked like a fucking bitch in heat.

Bucky pulls your hands away, he still has the phone in his hands, and he’s got it angled to playback from his point of view before he finally pushes into you. He’s big, much bigger than what you’ve experienced, you think you need a moment to adjust, but he never gives you that opportunity and you find that it doesn’t matter when he feels so good. Too good that you find it hard to breathe with each thrust he’s making because he’s hitting it so deep. You push your hands out in front of you to his lower abdomen and attempt to slow him down. Bucky shakes his head and knocks your hands out of the way.

You let out an abrupt yelp at his retaliation to your failed efforts in trying to stop him with a particularly harder and much forceful thrust. Instead, your hands grab fistfuls of the hotel bed’s white blankets and just let him have his way.

“So beautiful,” he says spreading you further then coming down on you to reclaim your lips with his. He rips your hands from their tight grips on the bed sheets to pin them down next to the sides of your head. You don’t care where his phone went, just happy to have both his hands on you. The skin-to-skin contact just hit different sometimes.

The kisses become so feral you start to feel a burn around your mouth from his stubble. Bucky rolls his hips into yours deliciously, a damn true artist, the rhythm he’s got going sends you just about over but never fully beyond the edge to prolong the climax.

Much to your dismay, Bucky withdraws away from you again, back into his previous position, a new idea popping into his wicked mind. With his hard cock still inside you, he slides his hands under your hips and hoists your lower half up towards him, resting your ass on his thighs, effectively bottoming out. You don’t hold back at the way that made you feel and let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He holds still for a second and you’re not quite sure why. You try to move by wiggling your hips, but he holds you still.

He’s staring at how close your bodies are, connected, he moves just the slightest. It causes your pussy to contract and your stomach to tighten up. He does it again in different intervals, his eyes surveying the entire thing. The next push is a little harder and when you see the devious smile breakthrough his face, he does it even more. The thrusts are much sharper and almost painful, but it quickly subsides when you feel the head of his cock probe at the right spot.

Bucky lifts your hips up higher, your back arching in bridge fashion you weren’t aware you could even do until he resumes his new pattern of thrusts again. This new position aided his cock in hitting your sweet spot a little better. He’s filming you again and resting one of his palms on your stomach. He’s not only watching, but he’s feeling the bulge in your belly from the distension caused by the jabs of his cock.  

“That’s my girl,” he praised, continuing to pound into you, “you take this cock so well.” The sight boosts Bucky’s ego and for you it actually probably wasn’t a good thing, but you’d be damned the angle did so many wonders to you right now.

“You love watching your cock go deeper and deeper inside me, Bucky?” You ask trying to look up at him from that position. Where did that come from? Your words cause him to freeze momentarily, but you could still feel his cock throbbing inside of you. He liked that.

Another impish thought running through his head, Bucky pulls out, picking you up so you’re also knee-height with him, giving you another searing kiss, then he’s behind you. He gently pushes you down, you on your elbows, Bucky leans over behind you, his soaked cock sliding up your ass resting on the small of your back as he places his phone back on the nightstand in the same position it had been in the beginning.

You don’t dare look at the screen in front of you, so you look down until you feel Bucky enter your pussy once more from behind. Your head rises and it wasn’t due to the surging pleasure, but because Bucky uses your hair as a rope to bring your body upright with his.

He thrusts up into you while he mutters incoherent slurs and lewd noises into your ear. He peppers the side of your face with wet and uncalculated kisses, his hands massaging your breasts before one of them migrates down to cup your pussy. His fingers dip in and starts another assault to your clit. You’re already tethering off the edge and on the brink of succumbing to him, but he just knew when to let up and keep you starved for more.

“Look at you,” he says, using his other hand to turn your head to face the small screen, the numbers continuing to go up. “You’re such a fucking slut for my cock,” you don’t argue with him and instead moan his name. “You like watching yourself fuck this huge cock, don’t you?” You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore; watching the two of you was hot. Your uncontrollable moans now muffled into Bucky’s palm. And he just kept egging you on, “I know I do. It’s gonna remind me just how tight this fucking pussy is.” Damn him. 

“You want to come, baby?” He asks, the speed of his fingers picking up a notch.

You pull down Bucky’s hand to respond, “Mmm, yes. Fuck! Please let me come, Bucky,” you don’t know what has possessed you, but it spurs the both of you on even more. Your next words do it for Bucky, “I want to come all over your cock,” and he’s immediately coming and spilling into the condom, still inside you, you feel his release pump through him. He’s biting your shoulder, some of his weight coming down on you, his thrusts becoming erratic, but one did the trick for you and you finally let go.

And what drives Bucky even more wild, is that you don’t stop. You keep rolling your hips into him, riding it all the way out. Bucky’s trying to hold on, with a bruising grip on your waist, his forehead resting on your back; the aftershock of his release proving too much. Your release pours out freely, you feel some of it slide down the inside of your thighs mixed with sweat.

You sag against Bucky, each of your body weight balancing against the other. You feel him scatter lazy kisses up your back and pull your face towards him to press one against your lips, moaning in satisfaction. He slowly pulls out of you with a low groan, your body feeling numb when you fall forward to lie down on the bed. Bucky discards of the condom and shuts his phone off before settling next to you.

He pushes the hair out of your face, and you, facedown, peek an eye open. He has a more than content look on his face, you notice his eyes were back to their normal color. He allows some time to pass for you both to calm down. Sleep wants to overcome your body, but it doesn’t when Bucky’s touch puts you on notice again. He runs his hand up and down your back. He’s insatiable, but he didn’t anticipate your comeback in the end and put him in a daze. He could get addicted to you.    

“Is it weird if I fly you out to Brooklyn?” He said out of nowhere. Brooklyn was thousands of miles away from where you lived. He wanted to pay your way to see him again. It was such an outlandish request. You’re starting to regain a more balanced sense of perception and thought, and you ponder on this for a few seconds. “Never mind. You think it’s weird,” he says lifting the blanket over his head turning his back to you. You could tell he was just trying to be cute.

“Oh, come on! You caught me off guard. You can’t blame me!” You respond, but he doesn’t budge. You muster up enough strength to sit up to lean over the side of his body, resting your chin on the top of his shoulder, and try to grab at the blanket. You pull it over his head and see the lazy smile etched across his pretty face. All you do is return the smile and close your eyes, basking in the post-coital bliss.  

“Stay for the night,” came as his last request and turning to lie on his back, wrapping his arms around you.

You don’t think about your car, that’s still parked nearby or care if the parking rate is probably going up by the hour and start eating at your bank account. You don’t think about how pissed your friend would be when she wakes up in the morning and you’re still not back in time. You just think about how tomorrow he’d be far away. You scoot up to give him one more kiss before laying your head to rest on him and make the best out of the present. Happy that you went with your gut on this one.

A/N: This could flop. At first, it was easy to write, but then the ending tripped me up. & while I have your attention, please let me know, anonymously or not, if there’s an interest in a Chase Collins fic? Charles Blackwood smut, anyone? Anyway, I hope this delivered! Thanks for reading!

[finaledenialist]

@samwinchestersleftshoe, @theselfhatingangelofthursday, @theangelwiththewormstache; ugh you seemed interested in the idea so... tagging you. 

This is the one fix-it where Dean isn’t actually in Heaven, y’all. 

Something was off.

Dean kept driving and driving and he felt like he was drunk. Drugged. His head was clouded and he felt... Unconscious. Something. Was. Wrong.

He stopped the car and went outside. It was quiet. Too quiet.

What was even this place? How did he got here? The barn, vampires, pain, Sam was crying. Right, he was dead. But... Something about this place. Something just wasn't right.

There was the Roadhouse. And Bobby. Okay, but... He was in heaven before. There was Ash in the Roadhouse. And Ellen and Jo should be there, too. So... Why no one was there? This place felt...

Empty.

Just empty. Too empty. There he was, he, and the impala, and the road and some forest. Basically the middle of nowhere. And Bobby. But Bobby was in his very own heaven, he knew that. So... What the hell?

Something was clearly wrong and he started to get more and more nervous and suspicious and this only assured him he wasn't in heaven. He had to admit to himself he was getting scared and if he was sure of one thing - this wasn't how heaven was supposed to feel like.

Think. Think.

Okay. According to the old rules he wasn't supposed to get to heaven at all, but Jack was the new boss, so maybe that rule has changed. And this clearly wasn't hell. And no, this was not purgatory either. But if it was heaven... Why it was so... Empty? How long was he driving anyway? How far did he get? The road seemed endless and... Pointless. Where was he even going?

Something just didn't add up. Axis Mundi, that's what it was called, he remembered. The road. But that road lead to his good memories, to the people he loved, and this one? This one seemed to go on and on forever, with no one and nothing in sight. Just the trees on both sides of the road. On and on. He was alone. Where was everyone?

After a few minutes he decided to keep driving. He felt he was too far gone to go back to the roadhouse and was willing to give this place one more shot. He drove for what seemed another forever and he was just about to stop when he saw it. Something's changed. The road was taking a huge turn and he saw it. At first only a glimpse, between the trees. It was a lake. And then the mountains on the other side of it.

And he recognized it immediately. And he was terrified. Something was deeply, deeply wrong, he could feel it but not quite name. He stopped the car and looked at the scenery in front of him. It was haunting him in his nightmares, until it was replaced by another one.

This was the place where Cas died 3 years ago, right after Jack was born. Maybe this was hell after all.

And suddenly the memory hit him. Running back from the apocalypse world, to the portal, faster and faster, and then they were back, and he turned around and Cas was just standing there; and then there was light everywhere and Cas was no longer standing, he was lying in the mud and Lucifer was smiling; and then Dean was carrying Cas' body to the house and after locking himself up with Cas he cried, cried, cried and cried for so long he didn't notice when night turned into day and he had no strength left in him to do anything. He felt dead inside. He heard Sam's voice from the distance but he didn't care at first or at all. After forever passed and he managed to somehow numb his whole being with every ounce of alcohol he found in the house; he stood up, looked at Cas, gently caressed his face and he knew he shouldn't be doing this, he knew, salt and burn, salt and burn, but he couldn't. He reached for Cas' tie and he carefully took it off. He stared at Cas' face as he hid the tie in his inside pocket. Bowing down and pressing a kiss to Cas' forehead felt way too natural.

Dean blinked. What on earth was going on? This was clearly one of the worst moments of his life. So why was he reliving it?

Because you couldn't save him and it was your fault, something whispered.

'No', Dean mouthed, but the the memory hit him again. And again. And again. He was completely confused and shaking; he wanted to run but he couldn't really move it was like... It kind of felt like a dream. Like a nightmare you thought you woke up from but it turned out to be a dream within a dream and... And suddenly the scenery changed.

They were in the bunker. It was night, Sam and Jack were already asleep but he and Cas stayed in the kitchen, talking, about god knows what. Dean's focus was purely on wrinkles on Cas' nose while he was smiling and laughing at some dumb stuff he just said. The beer kept flowing, and he was so happy. He knew, right there. After all this time he finally knew. The 'I love you, Cas' almost escaped his mouth a couple of times that evening, but he butchered it in his throat every time. Cas was an angel after all, and he was just a human. He tried to focus on the moment and be happy but the regret came in waves. It was so simple, Dean. And the moment was perfect. Not only this moment, the whisper was here again.

The wave of memories hit him without a warning. He and Cas in a car. Multiple times. He and Cas in the bunker's kitchen. Countless evenings. Countless possibilities.

And then there was Cas saying 'Because the one thing I want... Is the one thing I know I can't have'. A knife into his heart would've hurt less.

'You can't stay Cas', he heard himself saying, and there was Cas, newly human, sitting there, just back from the dead, and all the hope was fading from his eyes when the realization of Dean's words got to him. Dean was heartbroken, but Sam... He had to, he had no other choice, he kept telling himself, but he knew it wasn't true, it was making the easy choice, for once, and the cost was Castiel.

Well, at least now he was sure it was not heaven. He felt cold and scared and he didn't know what other memory is he going to relive next but then he heard it.

'Dean?'

This was coming from the Outside.

'Dean?! DEAN!'

And all of a sudden it was darkness. And then it was like someone turned on the night lamp. Warm, soft light was surrounding him. He was laying on... Well it wasn't ground. It was nothing. He blinked a couple of times.

'Dean what are you doing here?', he couldn't believe it, but it was Cas, hand on his shoulder, waking him up from all these nightmare memories he just relieved over and over again.

'What... What is going on', Dean managed to say, confused. There was just... Darkness. No, not darkness, he knew darkness. It was nothingness. And yet it was loud. 'Where... Where are we?', he asked, trying to stand up.

'Dean, this is the Empty', Castiel explained, 'and you really shouldn't be here'. He looked scared.

'The Empty?', Dean felt barely conscious, 'But how? Cas... Cas, I-'

'You shouldn't be here', Cas said again and looked around nervously, and suddenly the nothingness around them started shaking. It felt like and earthquake, but well, there was no earth. But there was a scream. Very long and high-pitched. And in the corner of his eye Dean caught a glimpse of... Something. He recognized it immediately, this was the black thing that took Cas, right after... Right After.

'Wait.', he said, 'Isn't this place exclusive for angels and demons?', he managed to form a coherent thought.

'Yes',  familiar voice spoke. Dean turned around to see no one other than Meg, standing right in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something but she was faster 'It was. It is. Seems like your boy Jack screwed up some rules. Omnipotent', she chuckled, 'but still confused, I see'.

'It seems', she continued, 'That you, Dean Winchester, died too many times and were too many things in your life to fit a certain label', she laughed, 'And you ended up here'.

Dean was confused. But Cas was standing right beside him and that was all that mattered.

'You know what, actually', she said, 'How about we make a deal.'

'No deals', Cas stepped forward, 'We are done.'

'Since your Jack exploded here, everything is like on fire', The Empty continued, unbothered, 'But the true beginning of my problems was always you, Clarence', she smiled, 'I just want to sleep. At this point I don't care about anything else. I thought I could make it. But with both of you here? No. Not a chance. I am too old to believe that.'

Dean and Cas looked at each other.

'So what then?’, Cas squinted his eyes.

‘I want both of you out of here. And I want you to do me a god damn favour and not die for the next 50 years so I can put everyone back to sleep.’ 

‘This doesn’t sound like a deal’, Dean started, ‘This sounds like a damn gift and those aren’t free in my experience’.

‘If one of you dies and comes here I am just going to release everyone out of here. And I mean everyone. Every demon you killed. Every angel you killed. And they are going to be pissed. Jack made it loud, almost everyone is awake. I want to put them to sleep. But you two troublemakers’, she smiles, ‘Get out of here. I can’t deal with both of you and everyone else at the same time’.

‘You’re just going to yeet us out of here? Back to earth?’, if someone asked Dean what was happening he wouldn’t be able to give an answer. 

‘Yeah. There is a catch though.’

‘Knew it.’, Cas rolled his eyes. 

‘Your grace, Castiel. You’re going back as a human this time’.

Dean looked at Cas, not knowing what to say. Cas looked suspicious.

‘What do you need my grace for?’, he finally asked.

‘Well it made all the angels fall from heaven once, right? I think I can use it to put them back to sleep’, The Empty shrugged, ‘You can give it away or I can take it away from you, the choice is yours.’

[ilikemesometaetaes]

Don’t Hold Your Breath ~ jjk

Chapter Five (M)

•••> Author: @ilikemesometaetaes​

•••> Summary: As the CEO of an international government security company, you have the world at your fingertips. Living life lavishly and extravagantly has become the norm. Behind closed doors, however, you host a past that renders you lonely and, quite frankly, miserable. It’s only a matter of time before your past comes back to bite you right in the ass.

•••> Pairing(s): Jungkook/Reader, Taehyung/Reader (slight)

•••> Inspo: This fic is inspired by the song “SAVAGE ANTHEM” by PARTYNEXTDOOR. Thank you to @dariangarcia​, @btssmutgalore​, and @junghoseokit​ for supporting my work. To my mamas, Kaitlin, Adora, Lauren, Lanie, Lu, and Sher.

•••> Word Count: 6.54k

•••> Rating: 18+

•••> Tags: angst | smut | ceo!au | rockstar!au | CEO!Reader | Rockstar!Jungkook | AU!BTS | Exes to Lovers

•••> Warnings: angst, infidelity, oral (m receiving), heartbreak, cursing, pining, depression, breakup, mention(s) of therapy/counseling, arguing, drug use, alcohol use | Warnings are written specifically to chapter.

Copyright © 2020 ilikemesometaetaes. All Rights Reserved.

Taglist: @dariangarcia​​ @apurpledheart​​ @itsgottabeyoo-ngs​​ @hytibm​ @namjinsbaby​ @ggukkieland​

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, say so in a comment to this chapter or the DHYB Main Page, or send me an ask!

NAVIGATION: Chapter Four (M) <- | -> Chapter Six (M) -> Mini-Masterlist -> Series Masterlist

•••> Official Playlist

~#~

“Is it something we discussed now? The truth got you in disgust now, ‘cause I’d rather we just fuck now.”

THEN.

Sitting at your desk at work never felt so somber as you remembered how it all changed. The chain of events that led up to your fight with him the previous night were too hard to ignore anymore.

You remember fighting for him- for the both of you.

The tears flooded your eyes and, thankfully, blurred your vision from the scene before you.

Jungkook sat on a couch placed in the corner of the club, completely inebriated and high out of his mind. But that’s not what hurt you.

What completely ripped your heart from your chest was the woman draped across his exposed lap with her hair held in one hand while she used the other to wrap around the part of his dick that she couldn’t reach whilst she closed her lips over it.

Blinking your tears from your eyes on instinct allowed you to see that another set of eyes was looking at you. And they weren’t Jungkook’s.

Taehyung’s scowl, paired with furrowed eyebrows and sad eyes, was another image from that night you couldn’t get out of your head. There was no shock nor surprise on his face- he was expecting you. Taehyung knew that you would see. He didn’t try to deter you from coming to the club and he didn’t send any warning texts. He was the one who invited you in the first place.

The scene was an unforgettable one.

You should have taken Taehyung’s word for it from the start. He had given you hints that you simply couldn’t bother yourself to pay attention to.

While you possessed the knowledge and evidence that Jungkook cheated on you that night, you couldn’t bring yourself to properly address it. Each time you got around to speaking with him about it, you ended up brushing it off for another time.

Finding an excuse for yourself to defend him was easy.

The drugs and alcohol were the problem. You saw it yourself that night. He was in a completely different world when you saw him doing the deed. His eyes were glazed out with beautiful lips agape in complete, drug-induced ecstasy, unknowing of what he was doing. There was no way he was aware of what was actually happening or even what day it was.

But then came the day that it got so bad that you asked him to go get help. You were willing to forgive his negligence if he was willing to get it fixed.

It was the cause of your final fight.

“I’m not going to fucking rehab, Y/N.” He laughed spitefully. “There is nothing wrong with me. I’m a fucking rockstar. This is what rockstars do.”

“They also cheat on their girlfriends?” You sarcastically asked.

Jungkook chuckled darkly while looking at the floor. After a moment, he met your eyes in a cold gaze before he opened his mouth.

“Rockstars don’t have girlfriends.”

The weight of the statement pressured heavily on you in realization of what he was implying, pushing all of the air from your lungs. You were struck silent with an invisible smack offered by his words. No sound could escape your mouth as you stared back at him in a silent question: did it mean what you thought it meant?

“Yeah.” Was all he said in the deafening silence to answer your unspoken query, looking at the ground awkwardly. He was quick to add another few words to finally hit the nail on the coffin. “But if you still want to fuck, I’m down.”

“But- but I…” Your voice trembled weakly, feeling your eyes ache with incoming tears, but you fought them with every ounce of will that you had as your abhorrence was built up by his last words. The ground was swallowing you up and you were trying to claw your way free. “I waited for you to get better. You told me things would get better once you took off.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Y/N.” He laughed heartily.

Your heart was no longer beating. Not in your mind, anyway.

You felt as the life was torn from your lungs with the most simple and practical words; your world taken from you and all air seeming too thick to inhale. 

Awfully, you couldn’t seem to listen to his words this time. You didn’t want to. Breathing seemed much too difficult as you felt him snatch the light from your life with one swipe.

There was no chance that you would let him watch you cry- no way he was going to watch the pain he delivered onto you take physical effect. You were disappointed and neglected- a pawn in the game he played. You were sick of playing now.

Instead, you turned around, grabbed your purse off of the kitchen table-

And left.

Sitting at your desk with all of the sadness that Jeon Jungkook brought into your life, you decided that it was finally time to leave. You needed to leave Korea. You needed to move on to bigger and better things.

Your hand was reaching for your phone before you could stop yourself from doubling back. It’s about time.

Googling for a moving company- any moving company- only took you a few seconds and you pressed the call button with a new sense of conviction.

“Good afternoon! Thank you for calling Team Wang’s Moving Company! What can I assist you with today?”

Making sure your voice was level and controlled, you spoke, “I’d like to schedule a move of items from a storage unit here in Korea to another country. Am I able to do that?”

“Of course, ma’am! We can get started on preparations for that right away! What was the location that you were referencing? We are limited on the countries we can ship to due to certain regulations.”

Without any further hesitation or pondering over the past, you settled on it.

“Italy.”

Jungkook

He sat in his room for a while with an empty lyric journal, letting the high slowly fade from his body as regret began pumping through his veins. Jungkook had put up the act for Taehyung, but after he saw his brother angrily storm out the door and he was left alone to the ever familiar havoc in his mind, the fight to maintain his mask was easily lost.

What the fuck did he do?

Seeing you cry was common for him; Jungkook had made you cry too many times to count, but that didn’t take away from the way it ripped apart the sinew in his chest every time he saw that look in your eyes as tears streamed down your cheeks.

He managed to convince himself of the belief that it was impossible for you to care that much anymore. You just couldn’t. Not when he had fucked up the first time. He had broken your trust and he didn’t trust himself enough to try and earn yours back, fearing that he would just fuck you up past recovery- like himself.

Jungkook was beyond rejuvenation and beyond any form of succor. Nothing could help him silence his demons except the cold and dark embrace of death. Even now, sitting in silence in his bedroom to let the remorse for you distract him from the torment of the empty organ beating in his chest, he felt them begin to criticize him.

Jungkook’s parents and brother died young, victims of a drunken asshole who decided that it was a good idea to get behind the wheel to try and get home to his girlfriend. What a fucking prick.

For some reason, Jungkook decided that it would be a good idea to stay home and worry about the girl that he liked at school, making little sketches to slip into her lunchbox once lunch came around. 

Of all days he could have stayed home, it just had to be that one. He should have gone to the grocery store with them. He should have been in that car with them.

The voices in his head began three weeks after the funeral- when Jungkook reached the ripe age of twelve. Constantly battering him down, twisting his heart, and suffocating his head, he recognized that it was his own voice and his own psyche attacking the sanctity of his soul after he watched the three coffins sink into the cold ground. 

It just had to rain that day, water filling the nice dress shoes his father bought for him a few months prior as mud covered the black leather.

He reached adulthood much too fast. Even under the care of his parents’ friends, he was forced by his own will to become independent. They tried to shower him with the same love and support that his family had, but it was no use- Jungkook was alone. No one could fill that gap in his heart once it was made empty.

He’ll admit, he was a bit more dramatic back then.

He was approaching his seventeenth birthday when he smoked for the first time, turning it into a habit by the time he graduated high school. He had been dragged out to an end-of-the-year school gathering by Taehyung, a senior who was much too silent like himself- who understood that Jungkook preferred the quiet due to the mayhem in his mind. They had formed a tranquil and mostly unspoken bond over the months that they studied together.

“Is it safe?” Jungkook muttered while looking at his older companion of the silence curiously.

“I’ve done it a few times and I was fine. Just take it slow at first. Try two hits and then wait like twenty or thirty minutes.” Taehyung’s contralto voice was somehow comforting to Jungkook, a beacon in the chaos that was the kickback they were currently separating themselves from. “If you don’t want to, that’s cool. You don’t have to.”

“Nah,” Jungkook’s desire to break out of his shell was a little spurred by Taehyung who seemed to aid him in the most odd yet unobtrusive way. “I’ll try it. Might be cool.”

The only two at the campfire while the rest of their year mates drank and danced to music in the house, Jungkook and Taehyung shared their first high together.

Then, the voices stopped.

Jungkook was shaken to his core, gripping the arms of the camping chair he sat in until his fingers ached and his knuckles turned white. For the first time in six years, his head was blanketed in silence.

Slightly panicked at the new sensation, he turned to Taehyung for help, only to find that his friend was sitting back with his head craned up, gazing intently at the stars. Jungkook followed his stare and struggled to see them past the glow of the flames in front of him, only to grow enraptured by the gorgeous twinkling of each small dot in the midnight sky once his eyes adjusted. Strangely, he was hit by a sudden burst of inspiration.

“I could write a song right now.” Jungkook told the sky confidently.

“You write?” He saw Taehyung turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye. Meeting his friend’s observance, he let a smile lazily grace his face for once as he replied.

“I do occasionally. I always wanted to be a singer when I was younger.”

“Me too.” Taehyung chuckled with a sense of wistfulness, fixing his stare on the small inferno in the fire pit. “Well, I wanted to be a bassist really bad. Maybe sing a little.”

Overcome with the emotions of maybe not being totally alone, Jungkook’s inner sageness spewed from his mouth without falter, wholly due to the graceful and relaxed feeling that he received from the high.

“We’re still young.” He reasoned. “We can still do it.”

“I’ll be studying music in university after my military service is over. My most realistic dream now is to become a studio bassist for some record company.” Taehyung laid his head back again, closing his eyes.

“Hey,” Jungkook called for his friends attention and the older boy looked at him with slightly bloodshot eyes. “We can do something with this if we really want to. I’ll follow you to university. Never really had a solid plan for where I wanted to go to anyway.” Jungkook stuck his hand out in a silent offer, hoping that his proposition wouldn’t be crushed.

Taehyung smiled mellowly, taking his younger friend’s hand with his in a handshake. “Sounds like a plan, my friend.”

After Taehyung graduated and enlisted, Jungkook completed his senior year with a new hobby- well, two new hobbies: writing and smoking.

With the impending date of his enlistment, he knew that he had to give it up as he was going to get drug tested. For two years, he kept up with himself without the help of the self-administered psychoactive drug therapy.

Service was a good distraction from the voices. Having things to do to keep him busy and writing in any free time he had, he was kept delightfully aloof from the dark corners of his mind. It also helped that he enlisted into the same garrison that Taehyung was assigned to.

Taehyung welcomed Jungkook into university with open arms. Now, at the age of twenty, Jungkook was a seasoned and trained man. The voices still loomed over him, but they were pushed to the back of his mind as he learned to deal with the emptiness.

He had highs to suppress his demons, he had his songs to communicate himself to others, and he had Taehyung.

Although it wasn’t nearly enough to fill his empty glass, it was empty no longer.

Jungkook lay in his bed as he watched the violet sky turn midnight blue, the already-set sun pulling the rest of its light away from his side of the earth. 

Naked and vulnerable under the scrutiny of the world, he lay in the sheets with his head turned toward the window, presenting the sorrow brimming in his eyes right back to the invisible gaze of the universe. With no form of judgement in response to him, he was left to ponder over the things he had done.

Because even now, with a slight high from the drugs, he realized that he could still hear them- the whispers, murmurs, and dronings of impugnment continued to poison his mind. He found it funny that he was always pressing the voices away, yet whenever confronted by the menace that was his emotions, they were his safety blanket. 

Pulling the sheets to his body while he curled into himself, Jungkook realized that he felt completely bare and exposed without the voices.

He’d keep them back to the point of a whisper so that he could call on them to protect him with a roaring intensity during bad times. There was never a time that he wasn’t manually suppressing them if he wasn’t high anymore.

With a shaken mind, he realized the only true way they were silent without true effort now. The drugs had stopped suppressing them a long time ago. There was no way he was able to have silence unless he was actually enforcing the lack of sound onto himself.

Not unless he was with you.

You provided light and hope and everything good to him, You gave him the things that were snatched away from him all those years ago- the things that he forced himself to live without. Unlike Taehyung, who gave him the sense of having a brother again, you gave him the love of everyone he lost. You acted like a sibling, gave him the comfort like a mother, and gave him the stern challenge and teachings of a father- if that made any sense.

Without you, he felt like his family; Jungkook felt lost and alone. Even as an up-and-coming rockstar with thousands of fans scrambling to get to know him, he felt like he was the last man on the planet who kept himself back while everyone else moved on to a better world.

The night at the club still haunted him, the truth of what happened chilling him to the bone- even if he didn’t exactly remember any of it.

Shit. Maybe he needed help after all.

NOW.

Sitting with his back to the door, staring at the night of New York City, Jungkook did not hear Namjoon enter the room with both of his bodyguards in tow.

“We’re staying another few days.” His older brother informed him, breaking him from his trance-like gaze.

“Goody.” Jungkook sighed, setting his empty glass down on the table in front of him. With a huff, he stood and stretched. Namjoon uttered a quick ‘give us a second’ to his men before the shuffling of feet and the door closing behind him signaled the beginning of a serious conversation.

“You know she’s still here, right? It’s not too late to go and talk to her.” Jungkook could feel the man’s eyes on his back, pity dousing the information that Jungkook was already aware of.

But Jungkook didn’t need Namjoon’s pity. It was enough that Namjoon saw his feelings on paper. Nothing more needed to be shared.

Still, he respected his brother’s wisdom and he remembered the words of his counselor. ‘Accept the silence. Then, do the talking from the inside. The only one truly speaking, inside and out loud, is you.’

“I know. I already spoke to her. Some things…” Jungkook’s volume died down for a moment, unsure of how to put it, as he turned his head to look at his brother in a silent plea for assistance. “…happened the other night. She came and saw me again today,”

“-I didn’t know what to do and I acted like a dickhead.” He looked back down and chuckled spitefully to himself, wisps of a shadow materializing back into the depths of his mind once he stopped speaking.

Namjoon exhaled after not realizing that he was holding his breath following his own comment. Carefully, he approached Jungkook so as to not trigger him into closing himself off. Despite having received professional assistance and counseling for two years, Jungkook was still as fragile as fine china.

The older man placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder before slightly forcing Jungkook to face him.

“Tell me, Jungkook,” Namjoon looked into his eyes, prying into the windows of his soul, to capture a glimpse of the storm clouds brewing in his brother’s brown orbs. “Do you still love her?”

Jungkook didn’t know how to answer at first.

The voices began permeating Jungkook’s mind ever so slowly as an automatic reaction to being emotionally jabbed. He didn’t like addressing his feelings; the voices were all he could fall back on when he felt threatened, deafening volume drowning out the possibility for anything to reach into him too deep. They gave him the things- the bad things- he needed to say in order to protect himself.

As he sifted through the past two years, however, looking back on the help he had received and the exercises he went through that allowed him to no longer fear the natural silence- to embrace it without the drugs- he knew that no one was threatening him and no one was going to hurt him. Jungkook was asked if he still loved you and he couldn’t have the negativity surrounding him if he was going to answer that question, so he moved his trepidation out of the way to see what was left for you.

Behind it all- the fear, meaningless women, music, loss- lay a withering yet ever-present being, its wings tattered and flayed at the edges. With its first glances of light, with no smog to block it, it beat its tiny appendages with potential and came to life upon Jungkook’s realization of what it was.

His arrant and perennial love for you.

Jungkook briefly remembered the meadow- your meadow- and all of the tiny butterflies that were living out their lives in the beauty of the world that day. A butterfly adorned with blue and black splotches of color on its wings had managed to land on your head for a split second when he adjusted your hair. The particular memory and the events that followed on that day relocated as the tiny butterfly inside his mind fluttered upwards.

Jungkook’s heart soared with newfound beginnings- a second chance.

“I do, hyung. I do.” He whispered, voice wavering under the force of the emotions that came bubbling up from his chest. Tears filled his eyes, prompting his older brother to pull him into an embrace.

Jungkook’s body racked with cries at the feeling of comfort and warmth, unable to stop himself from feeling the raw emotions he had delayed for too long. Instead of needing to push the darkness out of the way, it came pouring out of him in radiating waves much too intense for him to handle alone.

“Hyung! I love her! I love her!” He chanted into his brother’s shoulder. “I hurt her! She was all mine and I tossed her away!”

Namjoon, although shocked by the psychological state and emotional outburst of his usually stoic bandmate, held him with care and waited until his brother’s breathing calmed before suggesting his next move. “Then go and get her, Kook.”

“She’s-” Jungkook had to swallow to wet his dry throat. “She’s with Taehyung right now.”

“Then wait until morning. From what Jin-hyung said, she’ll be here until the end of the week.”

So, wait is what Jungkook did.

He woke up at eight the next morning and called your personal assistant, finding his number easily on your company’s preliminary email to everyone in his organization for the whole UN ordeal. After two rings, the man answered.

“Halo! This is Brian Morena, representative and PA to Ms. Y/N Y/L/N. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Jeon Jungkook.” Jungkook stated his name lowly and unsurely, cautious as to how to approach asking him about your schedule.

“Ah, Mr. Jeon! It is a pleasure to speak with you! I’ll just verify your phone number really quick. It will only take a moment.” The line went silent for a few seconds and Jungkook waited on the edge of his bed with a bouncing knee and a fingernail between his teeth. After a few more seconds, the man was back on the phone. “You’re good! What can I do for you today?”

“I was just wondering if I could possibly get my hands on Ms. Y/N’s schedule for the day.” Jungkook heard how weird the request sounded the moment it flew from his lips. Quickly, he came up with a lie to soothe the request with reasoning. “She left her jacket in the elevator and I wish to return it to her- personally.”

Jungkook added the last part, knowing that the man would just tell him to give it to an employee of your own building, and Jungkook couldn’t have that. He wanted- no, needed- to see you.

“I see.” Brian responded thoughtfully. “Well, in that case, I’m unable to disclose her whereabouts due to security reasons.” Jungkook’s heart dropped a little at the notion of being unable to speak with you while his heart was still flying open. Then, Brian spoke again.

“But if she is in her hotel during her free time, she will be in her penthouse and I will assign you a temporary elevator key so that you can get to her door. It won’t unlock the door, but it will get you in front of it. Does that sound alright, Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook smiled triumphantly. “Yes, that sounds lovely. Thank you, Brian.”

“It’s no problem, sir! Though, I do suggest you move quickly because she only has the next two and a half hours before she has her first scheduled event of the day. Your key will be ready for you in the next ten minutes. Have to wait until your status change goes through properly.” Brian was busy clacking away at his keyboard while he spoke, but Jungkook couldn’t be more overjoyed that he had succeeded in his plan thus far.

Things will work out. I’ll get her back. However much and however long it takes.

He dressed casually and indiscriminately with a mask over his face so as to not draw attention. After searching for it on google and exiting the hotel onto the street, he hailed a cab to take him to the first flower shop he could find to order you a bouquet of white tulips- obviously, he had to google that too. Jungkook had no idea what the best flower for apologies and hopes of new beginnings was. He was no botanical genius and that was a fact.

Once he had the flowers in his hand after a grueling wait, he stopped by the closest coffee shop to buy your favorite coffee- with two creams and three sugars if he remembered correctly. Despite the amount of time the florist had wasted, he made his way back to the hotel on foot so that he could properly practice what he was going to say to you. If he was going to make it right, he needed all the practice he could get.

Take off the mask. Don’t be a dick. Take off the mask. Don’t be a dick.

Jungkook let the incantations fill his head so that the haze of negativity didn’t have a chance to snap back into place over his single, delicate emotion. He was vulnerable and fighting the mental pressure with everything he had so that he could bare himself long enough to at least get back on good terms with you.

By the time he was back in front of your hotel building, it was a quarter to ten and he was left cursing the florist for taking so long. He stood awkwardly on the pavement, allowing himself a few breaths before he decided to enter the glass doors. Jungkook knew that he would be attracting attention by standing in front for so long, yet he couldn’t help but need a moment to send a prayer to whichever god was watching over him.

Closing his eyes, he craned his head up and took one last inhale whilst sending a silent plea for things to work out. To see you smiling and happy again. To hold you in his arms and hear you silence every one of his demons once and for all.

What he didn’t expect was one of his prayers to be promptly answered.

As he opened his eyes to look at the late morning sky, he caught sight of you immediately, sitting on the restaurant balcony- laughing and smiling. But you weren’t laughing and smiling to yourself.

You were giving your joy and happiness to Taehyung whose hand was covering yours above the table, grinning endearingly and adoringly back at you.

Jungkook’s hands grew numb, warranting the flowers and coffee to slip from his grasp onto the sidewalk, as he drowned in smog once again.

NOW.

You

“He never wanted you to leave.”

You sat, dumbfounded for a moment, as Taehyung said the words. You didn’t let the shock last for long, knowing that what he said must have been a lie.

“There’s no way.” You chuckled scornfully. “He told me himself, Taehyung. He didn’t want me anymore.”

“Y/N, take it from me. I loved you. I wanted to see you happy.” He grimaced briefly, most likely from the personal statement, while turning his eyes down to place his gaze on his empty plate in front of him. “But I knew that he made you happy even though he made you sad. He made you happy in a way that I never could. And he wanted to see you that way- happy.”

“I’m sorry, Tae. I- I should’ve-” Your heart ached for a moment as you tried to find the words to say, wishing for the first time that you had been in love with him instead.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You can’t force feelings like that and I sure as hell was not going to force you into anything that you didn’t want.”

A question burned behind your eyes, tugging your heart to remember the past.

“Then why did you let me see?” Your eyes turned cold. The drop in your tone nor the change of your mood were directed at him, but they were caused by him nonetheless.

“Because I was young and thought you had a chance to find that happiness elsewhere.” He sighed, taking the opportunity to place his hand over yours on the table while his words distracted you. “And for that, I’m sincerely sorry. I know that friends are supposed to help each other out, but that was a situation that was out of my hands and not mine to handle or get involved in.”

“I’m not blaming you for my relationship issues. I never did and I never will. So don’t apologize.” You looked down at the way his hand covered yours. “I just wanted to know.”

Taehyung pat your hand in an attempt for you to look at him again. When you did, he continued his sentiment.

“Jungkook didn’t want you to leave at all. He has this… thing. It’s not really my place to say anything, but I’ve been friends with him for years and he’s had it a bit rough. I know that he’s a dick- believe me, I know-“ You quirked an eyebrow at his expression. “But he’s got something he keeps hidden behind that thick skull of his that you should probably know about.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?” You asked, curious as to what he could be alluding to.

“Because you guys still need to talk. He was never good at talking to you about things.”

“I’m never fucking talking to him ever again.” You deadpanned.

“Please do it for me, Y/N.” His eyes begged with his plea, pulling you in.

“Oh? And why should I do it for you, hm?” You joked with him to steer the conversation away from the heavy subject, a small smile playing upon your lips. “I think you were the one apologizing to me.”

“Well, all I can say is that I’m sorry. I was supposed to be there for you- when you needed a shoulder to cry on and when you needed someone to binge watch TV shows with.” He smiled with his attempted joke that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“You’re the best TV show buddy.” You giggled and looked down at your joined hands again, rotating your own so that you could hold his. To be friends with him after all this time… is it possible?

“Oh, I know I am!” He laughed loudly again, prompting you to quickly look around the restaurant area and the street below you, mild panic setting in once more. You tilted your head in confusion and pity at the sight of a few white flowers lying on the pavement next to a splattered drink.

“Poor flowers.” You muttered to yourself. “They’re so pretty.”

You watched Taehyung turn to look where you were staring from the corner of your eye. “Oh yeah. Would you look at that? Such a waste.”

Instead of taking any more time, you stood and straightened your blazer to remove the wrinkles. “We should probably get out of here. I have a security meeting in a little while.”

“How long is a little while?” Taehyung asked as he stood and pressed his hands to his own coat. You made eye contact with Jay who was already stood and ready to go, nodding to him as you answered Taehyung’s question.

“About an hour and a half. Why?”

“Damn. That’s not enough time. Maybe tonight then?” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, lips forming into a thin line.

“Enough time for what? What’s happening?” You grabbed his elbow when he began walking away without answering your question.

“What time are you going to be done for the day?” He asked.

“Taehyung,” You warned lowly. “What’s going on? I won’t tell you unless you give me something to work with here.”

“Oh, nothing.” He smiled and removed your grasp from his arm. “I’ll just ask Brian again. I’m sure he’ll be upset if you dodge your schedule.”

“Brian?” You watched as he walked away through the tables while hooking his mask back onto his ears. You wanted to get to the bottom of the situation fast- so you quickly followed him. “You’ve been speaking with him?”

“Of course I have! Isn’t that right, Jay?” Taehyung turned to the man in question.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. You’ve been very in touch with the staff.” Your bodyguard, once he joined you and Taehyung walking together, let a small, smug grin pull at the corners of his mouth. What a traitor. A slight sense of mock-betrayal filled you.

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“For research purposes.” Taehyung deadpanned, grabbing your hand in the process. “Now come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“I have to go back to my room and get ready for my meetings.” You said quickly. Taehyung only chuckled lowly.

“Alright. Then let’s go!” He tugged you towards the exit. “I’ll take you to your door.”

You had no option but to stumble behind him while you stressfully surveyed the area, careful of onlookers.

~∞~

“YOU ALMOST LOST IT?” Kate’s voice was shrill and slightly distorted as it burst through the speakers of your phone at an ear-splitting volume.

“I’m sorry!” You briskly apologized. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

“I spent weeks- weeks!- planning and making that jacket for you! I-” She bleated weakly before her tone leveled to nonchalance. “Wow. So this is what being chopped liver feels like.”

“Kate! You are not chopped liver, I swear.” You rushed the statement as you sat back in your office chair, glad to have a conversation that wasn’t work-related after a long and grueling day.

Your friend only grumbled in response. “It sure feels like it.”

“Well, you aren’t. I swear on my job.” You said.

“Oh wow. Holy shit. Okay, yeah that means a lot.” She stuttered playfully. “But something tells me you didn’t call me just to tell me you almost lost one of my most prized works of art- which, by the way, is my best seller. So, what is it?”

“I- uh…” You didn’t know how to word it. You had spent the entire work day using security updates and board meetings as a distraction from the open debate in your head, so now that your day was over and you had nothing left to do, the thoughts came back. It’s why you called Kate; you needed a third opinion.

If what Taehyung said about Jungkook was actually true, then maybe you should talk to him so that you could hear his side of the story. The bad bitch part of you told you to fuck off and forget about him, but you couldn’t help the softer and more curious side of yourself that begged to hear him out.

Realizing you had gone silent for a moment too long, you blurted out something random. “I’d like for you to design a hat for me.” A hat? Really? That was the best you could come up with? At least ask for some pants or something.

“Bullshit,” She chuckled in response. “But I’ll take that until you’re ready to tell me what’s actually going on.”

You heard her rustling some paper in preparation to take down design ideas, triggering panic to rise within you. You didn’t want her to put in work for an imaginary hat that you really had no desire of having.

“Hypothetically!” You shouted before she could get into it.

“Okay…” You heard the hesitation in her voice, clearly weirded out by your outburst. “Hypothetically what?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that you had an old flame who broke your heart and acted like a dick years ago, but you just recently learned that there were, maybe- I don’t know- some other things going on that made him act that way. Would you want to talk to him about it?”

“Hell no.” Kate laughed. “Just because you’re going through some stuff doesn’t mean you can act like a dick to other people. There’s no excuse for being a shitty person.”

“That’s what I thought.” You replied strongly. In your head, however, the war within you was brewing, weakening your composure.

“You’re not one to usually think about things like this.” Kate added. “What’s going on with you?”

“Just dealing with some stuff from the past. Nothing huge.” You didn’t want to overshare and Kate understood, knowing that she could never ask you to tell her about your past. She would wait until you were the one sharing it with her.

“Just let me know if you want me to come over there. I could definitely use some quality time with a quiet person for once. These idiots are so loud.”

You laughed in response. “I will. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. We can watch movies or something and eat pizza and drink wine.”

“Oh my. That sounds like the perfect date!” She squealed. Her giddiness was infectious, spreading a soft smile across your lips.

“Won’t Brian get jealous?” You jab at her playfully.

“Not at all. He’ll probably end up attached to his video games anyway.” Kate snorted. “Shit! Speaking of! I need to call him! I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Talk to you later.” You sat up in your chair.

“Bye!” She chirped.

As you sat alone in your office, building lights dark and the lights from the city the only form of illumination in the room through the window, you let your friends’ words rifle through your head.

On one hand, Kate catered to your stone-cold side, encouraging you to forget all about Jungkook and move on. Despite not knowing the situation and understanding all of its facets, her opinion was unbiased.

Taehyung, on the other hand, encouraged you to speak with Jungkook. He was aware of both sides of the story and understood what you and Jungkook- whatever the hell it was- were going through. He supported the side of you that was eager to understand and desperate to love again.

The decision was, ultimately, yours to make. What were you going to do?

The thoughts in your mind weighed heavy on your heart while you prepared to leave. You stood, packed your brief case, and made your way out of your office and onto the sidewalk to hail your driver so that you could go back to your hotel.

You couldn’t worry about it for long, though, because your phone vibrated three separate times as three notifications lit up your screen on your way back. Taehyung texted you.

Kim Taehyung (BTS)

Wear thick socks.

And a coat.

With gloves.

You stared at your phone in confusion, trying to figure out what he was getting at. Just what in the world was this boy planning?

~#~

Sorry this took so long, everyone! Please remember to like/reblog and comment if you want. I’d like to know what you guys think!

Don’t forget to check out the Series Masterlist if you want to read the oneshots that I have published.