#smoking/drinking/suicidal thoughts

[marziemoo]

Star trek timeeee

[hees-mine]

N✧ RAINB✧WS - L. HS

PAIRING: HEESEUNG + FEM READER

WARNING$: SMUT, PROTECTED/UNPROTECTED SEX, ROUGH SEX, SHOWER SEX, ANAL, ORAL, FINGERING, CUM EATING, FUCKING WHILE HIGH/DRUNK, BLOWJOBS, PUSSY EATING, NIPPLE SUCKING, LICKING, DIRTY TALK, POSSESSIVENESS, LOTS OF SEX SCENES, ANGST, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CRYING, CHILDHOOD ABUSE, TRAUMA, FIGHTING, BLOOD, ARGUMENTS, CURSING, SMOKING, DRINKING, MENTIONS OF CLUBS, DRUGS/ DRUG DEALING, OVERDOSE, DEATH, SUICIDE. IF THESE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DO NOT READ!

WC: 26,048k

GENRE: ROCKBAND AU. INSPIRED BY CHASE ATLANTIC.

FEATURING: HEESEUNG VOCALIST, JAKE DRUMMER, JAY GUITAR, SUNGHOON BASSIST.

$YNOP$1$: it's not everyday your favorite underground up and coming rock band tours in your city, but the day they do, you take full advantage. Just seeing them live felt surreal, but what was even more unreal was the lead singer noticing you amongst a small crowd. You thought that made your night turns out once the concert had ended and you made your way backstage (thanks to your vip pass) is what really made your night, yet the surprises didn't stop there. After a brief interaction with the band, the front man, Lee heeseung, offers to take you back to the tour RV, leading to one unforgettable steamy night, and suddenly, he asks you to go on tour with him as you lay tangled in his sheets without a thought you say yes taking a step into his world but little did you know there's "no rainbows just white lines."

She’s finally here 😈 dropping a little treat before enhypens comeback

With your heart racing in your chest, you do one final glance at yourself in the mirror, putting the finishing touches on to make sure your outfit is good and everything is intact.

You sighed softly, nerves running through you from the anticipation of seeing your favorite band live.

You had front row seats or ga rather, which meant you’d be closest to the stage where your favorite singer was going to be performing on.

The idea of seeing him live makes you so excited. Despite spending nearly two whole paychecks on your ticket, you didn’t regret it. How could you when you were going to see heeseung, the lead singer, up close and personal? He was worth every cent, and you couldn’t wait to hear his heaven-like vocals in real time.

Once you’re satisfied with the reflection that stares back at you, you reach into your purse to grab your keys and feel another wave of nerves hit you.

This is really it. You thought while turning off your living room light and heading to your car to drive to the venue, which luckily was only eighteen minutes away.

Arriving at the venue sometime later, you paid for parking and left your car. Entering the venue, there weren’t that many people, seeing how it was an underground rock band; however, the turnout was still quite nice as they were starting to make their come up, which you were happy for, and hopefully, when they got much bigger they’d have more concerts in your city.

Weaving through the crowd, you found your spot on the floor, going close to the stage. Again, they weren’t that popular, so thankfully, you didn’t have to fight for a close spot.

It was about twenty minutes before the show, the venue lights were still on, and they played some of their music in the background on the speakers while people chatted away until it was time for the show to start.

You looked around, snapping a few shots of the crowd and stage. It was still pretty empty as people were buying drinks and snacks for the show, not you thought your stomach was in knots. The thought of even eating right now made you feel like regurgitating.

The last few minutes before they would take the stage, your nerves had started going crazy again, and it felt like hours had passed, and the clammy bodies that started to pile in beside you weren’t helping as you were very impatiently waiting for the performance.

Or more less him.

You know it sounds crazy a young girl having a crush on a boy band member.

Typical.

But there was just something about him. He was so captivating. He had you completely sucked in so far to the point he was the only member you really noticed out of all of them. Of course, you knew of the other members: Jay on guitar, sunghoon on bass, and Jake on drums.

But heeseung, the lead vocalist, had a spell on you, one that you just couldn’t shake.

Not to say you even wanted to.

When he was on stage, it was like he was meant to be there, a star shining so much brighter than the others. His enjoyment of performing, his charisma, and the way he took control of the crowd and the stage while looking effortlessly cool and handsome was utterly mesmerizing to you.

His looks were a big plus. His messy black hair made you want to run your fingers through it. His body was slim yet muscled, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about tracing his lean biceps with your fingertips.

That was just the tip of the iceberg, the way he’d stick his tongue out and the unnecessary rolls of his pelvis area while he sang a song that did not require such movements, but it was so uniquely him and equally satisfying to watch, and you can’t believe that not even five minutes from now you’d be seeing all that up this close.

Your camera was already ready, waiting for them to step from behind the curtains.

As they took the stage, the crowd erupted. It was almost a blur, the music loud and ringing in your ears, people, including you, singing along and enjoying yourselves to the opening song.

Your eyes were practically glued to him the whole time, completely mesmerized by him, the sweat rolling down his Adam’s Apple, the way his tank top clung to his hot, sweaty skin made you bite your lip, and if you weren’t already going insane when he made eye contact with you, you absolutely lost it screaming your lungs out, your hands reaching for him on stage along with many other fan girls. He smirked at you and came closer, clasping his hand with yours. He sang effortlessly while interacting with you.

It was only a second, but it felt like your heart stopped, and it was only you and him at that moment.

The instant he let go, you wanted him to hold your hand again, but sadly, you knew that wouldn’t happen.

Many tracks played after that. The song they were currently performing was nearing its end, and heeseung did his signature jumping down from the stage and running through the crowd to high-five all the people in the middle row.

You watched with envy, wishing you had bought one of those seats instead, but nevertheless, you still enjoyed watching his fan interactions. He was always the best at them.

When it came to the slower songs, you were completely immersed, staring into his eyes, his angel-like voice hitting your ears in the sweetest tone you’ve ever heard, even better than listening with headphones.

If anyone were to look at you right now, they’d think you were in love with the way your eyes sparkled as you stared at the lead singer with admiration and adoration.

And the somebody looking at you was the man himself, his eyes boring into your own, and you couldn’t care less about the ticket price, you’d pay double just to have this experience again as you made eye contact with the person you only ever admired through the screen.

He was so perfect, and you hoped the soft smile playing on your lips conveyed that.

His eyes shifted away from you, but yours never did. They stayed stuck on him until the show was coming to its close, and they all went backstage to prepare for the last song.

“Which one are you picking?” Sunghoon spoke up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a white towel and a grin on his face.

“Front row third to the left is definitely mine,” heeseung replied after gulping down a bottle of ice-cold water, his other hand occupied with a pre-roll.

“Can’t you go two seconds without getting high?” Jay shook his head disapprovingly of his friend, who smoked way too often.

“No,” heeseung replied carelessly, blowing the smoke into his friend's face.

“Anyways, I was gonna pick her,” Jay sulks, toying with the tuner on his guitar.

“Too late. Besides, you know I always get first pick as the front man,” heeseung says while taking another hit.

This has been a routine for them. They’d always pick a girl in the crowd, heeseung, being the leader, had the first say and then the rest, but by the end of the night, they had all picked a girl to sleep with, if not two.

What can they say? It’s the perks of being a rockstar.

“I don’t pick. I just look in the crowd and point,” Jake chuckles as heeseung passes him the joint.

“We all know you stick your dick in anything,” Sunghoon chimes in.

“Shit, they’re all pretty and hot with a pussy I can bury my dick into. Why would I care?” Jake whistles, twirling his drumstick between his slender fingers that his fans had gone crazy over a million times.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” heeseung announced, cutting off the banter after wiping the sweat off his face and neck.

“That desperate to get your dick wet?” Jay teased with a quirked brow.

“For once, you’re actually right. My shit is so hard right now just thinking about it,” he laughed, gripping the front of his jeans provocatively.

Jake hurriedly takes a final hit, and the others gather around, forming a small circle, quickly putting on their serious faces and doing a team chant before going on stage for the last song of the night.

When they came back on stage, the crowd cheered loudly, already knowing what song they were performing.

It was one of their more mature songs. Well, all of their songs were pretty out there, but they were known for this performance and the explicit things they did on stage.

Like Jay fingering his guitar, sunghoon licking up the neck of his bass, Jake turning his drumsticks to a v shape and licking between them.

And last but not least, heeseung did seemingly everything in his power to captivate everyone in the audience and bring out their wildest fantasies.

From lifting up his tank top to holding the mic between his legs during the guitar solo, stroking the instrument with his dominant hand with the most innocent look on his face, all while acting like he wasn’t pretending it was his erect phallus.

You almost lost your mind seeing him doing it so up close you could feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and an all too familiar feeling between your legs.

Familiar cause you had touched yourself to that scene on the screen over and over, your walls clenching as you came wishing he was really stroking his cock in front of you instead of that stupid mic and in front of thousands of fans.

But that’s beside the point here. This was by far the best concert you’ve ever been to. No amount of money could compare to this performance. It was everything you could have asked for and so much more.

When the show ended and the lights went out, all your excitement was replaced with nerves once again because you had the VIP pass, which meant meeting the members backstage.

The line was short, which made it all the worse, but when it was finally your turn, you calmed yourself and greeted the members, bowing to each of them respectfully, and you went into the center to take a picture with them. Luckily, you were the last person to go up, which meant you got to share a few words with them, mainly just thanking them for coming to your city and how you loved the show, and you hoped for them to come back again soon.

Heeseung gave the other members a knowing look unbeknownst to you, and they started to distance themselves, and so did you, ready to leave the venue, but someone caught your wrist, causing you to gasp as you turned around and were face to face with none other than heeseung himself before you were playing it cool and calm like you didn’t scream out your lungs for him during the whole show, but now that you’re face to face you couldn’t help but feel nervous and shy, especially with his hand on you.

“Thank you for coming. Glad you enjoyed the show, Angel” he shamelessly eyed you up and down, licking his lips at the sight of your exposed cleavage, feeling the blood rush straight to his cock, the adrenaline from the show still very much alive and your reaction to him boosting his confidence and ego by a million.

“I- you’re welcome,” you stutter, not knowing what to say. With him being so close, you could smell his Prada cologne invading your senses.

The scent is easy to detect since you bought the exact kind he wore and spritzed it on your pillows before bed.

“Since I’m so grateful you came, why don’t you let me thank you in private?” The hand on your arm moves to your chest, his palm lying flat on your left breast. The action was so bold, yet he knew you wouldn’t tell him off because judging by the way you were staring at him all night, giving him your best fuck me eyes, he could only assume you were down to fuck with him.

And you prove him to be right.

Your breath hitches as you feel him lightly squeeze your left breast. “Heeseung,” you whimper his name quietly, and his cock twitched in his pants.

Not only were you beautiful, you were easy too, just his type.

You looked around, eyes flashing to see who heard or who was watching, but there was suddenly no one there, no security, no cameras, no members, just you and him.

“Focus on me,” he says lowly. “No one else is here, just you and me.” he strokes your cheek gently. “What do you say, hmm? Come back to the RV with me. I’ll give you a little tour,” he says with a lazy smile.

Nodding your head, almost in a trance-like state, you accept his offer, not even thinking about it more than once.

It was heeseung you’d let him do anything he wanted to you.

“Follow me.” he bends down briefly and kisses you on the cheek, and with that single kiss alone, you’d fallen for him.

All the fans had left long ago, and you two easily left out the back, going straight into the touring RV where the rest of his bandmates were.

They all smiled at you, knowing what was about to go down, and you lowered your head embarrassingly, not expecting them to be there.

As embarrassing as it was, you couldn’t say no to heeseung the man you dreamed about day in and day out.

Hell, this whole experience was unexpected, but when he took you back to his little room near the back and forced you against the wall impatiently, his lips pressing against yours hungrily was when it all became real.

You were actually kissing Lee heeseung, and it was….

Perfect.

And it wasn’t a dream like all the other times.

Like a switch had flipped, you reciprocated immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back with equal enthusiasm.

“Hmm,” he groans against your lips, enjoying the way you keep up with him as your hands run through his wet nape hair.

He firmly presses himself against you, feeling your breasts smushed against his chest.

You whine into the kiss. His bulge pressed against you, his body keeping you pinned to the wall while he devours you, his hot tongue sleazily licking into your mouth, wet and messy, as he licks, sucks, and bites on your plump lips.

He jerked his hips forward, his bulge nudged against your core, and you gasped at the sudden friction. He chuckled amusedly, his hot breath fanning your face as he dived back in for more, sucking on your tongue lewdly, making your head spin as you gasped for more oxygen.

Your hearts pounding against one another, his forehead resting against yours, his chest heaves desperately, searching for breath, his nose tickling your jaw before he opens his mouth, kissing along your neck and chest.

“Heeseung,” you breathed out, lips swollen from the kiss as you panted and threw your head back against the wall, giving him free rein over your body.

He lowers his head and opens his mouth, licking at your exposed breasts, the feeling making a gush of arousal seep from your throbbing hole.

Taking advantage of your head tilted back, he trails upward, licking a stripe up your neck until he reaches your lips, forcing your head down to capture them in another breathtaking kiss.

Once satisfied, he parts from your lips again to kiss your jaw, his nose pressing against your temple as he moves your earlobe. He licks from your neck to your jaw, your ear, your chest, and any skin that’s exposed to him, devouring you whole.

He slipped his hands inside your leather jacket, yanking it off your body and exposing your shoulders, just another piece of bare skin for him to cover with saliva and kisses.

You’ve never felt so hot, so needy, so impatient.

Everything he did to you was so intense his lips left a fire in their wake, heating up your body and igniting a flame so strong that nothing could extinguish it.

Your grip loosened in his hair, your body overwhelmed, barely hanging on as he ravished you.

He leaned back just long enough to throw his baseball cap off somewhere in his small room, revealing his black hair, giving you more to grab onto.

You stared at one another, panting heavily, no words exchange, but the tension and feeling of arousal coursing through your veins.

He easily gripped the hem of the black tank top you wore, pulling it over your head. As you obediently raised your arms, your tits came flopping out of the material braless nipples perked up for his hungry eyes to feast on.

Grabbing your breasts, he squeezed them in his large, veiny hands, thumbs toying with your hardened buds. He stared at your face intently, pushing your buttons to watch how you reacted, your face entirely riddled with lust and pleasure just from him massaging your tits.

He bit his lips, squeezing harder, pulling a gasp from you as he rolled his thumbs over your nipples. His cock was getting so hard it started to ache, his wet tip surely staining the front of his blue jeans.

Sucking in a deep breath, he lowered his right hand to cup your clothed cunt.

“A-ah,” he smiled, adding some pressure, and you automatically ground yourself on his palm.

“Fuck” he muttered, feeling the heat from between your legs over his palm. He couldn’t wait to get inside you. He was so hard, needing a release desperately.

He’s never felt this feral, the need to be inside something so strong he felt like he had to stick his dick in your warm hole unless he’d explode.

Retracting his hands, he strips out of his white tank top, revealing his chest to you. His nipples are hard, and you can’t help but want to suck them.

He quickly undid his jeans, pulling them down to his knees.

You watched him breathless and awestruck pussy aching desperately for him, and you felt yourself clench down tightly when he gripped the waistband of his boxers pulling them down, his thick hard veiny cock flopping out, standing tall, precum seeping out of his tiny hole.

You licked your lips at the sight, sinking your teeth into your lower one, mouth watering as you eyed his pretty cock.

He sat down on his bed, beckoning you over. “Come here,” he called you to him, and you took a few steps. Soon, you were standing before him half-naked. “On your knees”

The way you slowly sunk down to your knees, holding eye contact with him the whole time, made his dick twitch. You placed your hands on his knees, going higher to caress his smooth thighs. He leaned back on his palms, relaxing as your hands ran all over his legs and thighs. “You wanna suck it baby?” He asked and bit on his lip with a raised brow, watching as visible excitement grew in your eyes.

You rested your cheek on his inner thigh, nodding softly as he patted your cheek. “Yeah?” He says softly.

Your hand wrapped around the thickness of his cock, and he hissed, feeling your cold hand fondling his hot throbbing length.

Stroking up and down slowly, you swirled his tip with your thumb spreading his sticky precum all on his dick.

He made a sound of approval, letting you do your own thing as he sat back.

Your fingertips tickled his balls before reaching up to pump his length some more. He was so hard and warm to the touch.

Your mouth salivates, and you pick your head up off his thigh, sticking out your tongue and licking up and down on his girthy shaft.

He groans, head tilting back as his fingers dig into the sheets.

Your tongue flicked on his tip, tasting the sweet yet salty precum. You moaned at the taste, eyes fluttering shut to relish every last string of his arousal.

Entranced by the taste of him and his soft grunts, you parted your lips, wrapping around the tip of his length, sucking him like a lollipop of the sweetest kind.

He gasped softly, his mouth opening in a silent moan, abs tensing as your wet warmth covered his sensitive cock head.

You placed your palms flat on his thighs, bobbing your head as you sucked more of his length in.

Opening your mouth wider, you let your saliva drip-free, running down his tip to his balls, getting it wet so you could suck on him easier.

His toes curled, balls tensing as you swallow more than half of his thick cock.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his heavy warm cock on your tongue. You were barely even at it for a minute, yet you were addicted to the feeling, but the back of your throat felt empty, so you sunk down further, letting the tip of his cock fill that hollow space. Your wet lips tickled his ballsack, and he whimpered, his body trembling as you took him balls deep. He’s never felt head this good before.

You swallow around his cock, and goosebumps form on his skin. “God damn,” he grunts, watching you suck his cock. The way it just disappears in your mouth leaves him floored. You’re taking every inch down your throat so fucking good. “Sucking it real good” he lets out a breathy moan and lifts his hand up to stroke through your hair. “Shit,” he gulps, throat running dry from how much he’s panting.

Coming up for a quick breather, you release him from your mouth, your spit and his precum covering his pulsing cock.

The light from the tv hit just right, displaying his cock covered in a thin sheen of wetness, looking even more enticing for you to suck.

You lick the veins running along it, and he shudders, breath uneven.

His body jolts when you tease his tiny opening with the tip of your tongue. “Fuck” his eyes nearly rolled in his head. You were doing him so good he’d never been this turned on before

You inhaled him fully, forcing him as deep as possible before swallowing and choking on his hard cock.

The tight sensation of your wet throat closing up around him makes him moan loudly.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you intentionally choke around him some more, loving the feeling of gagging on his long dick.

You pulled off his shaft, slurping around his base and sucking one of his balls into your mouth while you stroked his cock.

Lapping at his sensitive balls, you tap his dick across your face obscenely, the quiet smack of his shaft hitting your cheek echoing in the room, and he loved it so much.

This was the best head he’d ever gotten. He loved it just like this: wet, messy, and sloppy.

You moaned around his cock, the little vibration in the back of your throat tickling his tip. “Oh my go- fuck” he whispers to himself, head falling back as he lets himself go enjoying the feeling completely, the wet, dirty sounds of you slurping his cock like music to his ears.

His hand taps your head lightly, letting you know he’s close, and you suck him with more vigor, moaning constantly, sucking him in like your life depended on it, your throat begging for his cum. “Gonna cum” he whispers shakily, hips lifting off the bed as strained moans leave his lips, his balls tightening and cock going rigid as he spills straight down your throat.

Your hands squeeze into his thighs, your mouth hollow, sucking him up and down as he rewards your work with his creamy load coating your tonsils.

Your jaw was tired, but you kept going until he turned soft in your mouth, and you still didn’t stop sucking around him.

He gently pulled you off him, too sensitive to keep going. “Angel,” he groaned, eyes rolling in his head as you showed him your tongue clean of his cum. “Get up here.” Getting up from your sitting position, you climb onto his bed.

He rid himself of all his clothes and turned to you, gently laying you back on the bed. He pulled off your shoes, your black skirt coming next, and he groaned angrily at the next layer of clothing, hindering his path. He grabbed the crotch of your panties, ripping them open, revealing your glistening hole pulsing and wet with your arousal.

Licking his lips, he spreads your legs open, laying between them, leveling his face with your wet pussy.

You spread your legs wider, and he smirked at your shamelessness. “You’re fucking dripping” he groped your thighs, kneading them as he inhaled your natural scent.

“Heeseung,” you whine shyly.

He chuckled before diving into your core. You moaned at the first lick, and from then on, it was endless, your moans loud and lewd.

His hot tongue slithered through your engorged pussy lips, his sticky saliva making you even wetter.

He was so filthy with it rubbing his pursed lips on your clit, sucking off your arousal, nose brushing your erect nub. “Hmm, that’s some good pussy” he licked his lips, going in for another taste, tongue darting in and out of your hole, licking straight from the source of your sweet nectar, his cock growing hard again from your smell and taste.

Your hands found his hair yet again, pulling and tugging as he ate you out, your face contorting in so much pleasure. His mouth was so warm, soft, and wet against your pussy. It felt so good.

“Oh my god!” You squeaked as you felt one of his thick ring-riddled fingers enter your tight cunt.

“Holy fuck, she’s so tight” he pushes his finger in knuckle deep, feeling your ridged walls hugging his finger so snugly.

You whined, your pussy fluttering around his finger uncontrollably. “Heeseung”

He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, adding a second finger along his first one. Your insides felt so hot and wet, he knew you’d have some good pussy, but not this fucking good.

He stretched your little walls open with his two fingers, mouth sucking on your clit desperately.

You pulled his hair so hard it felt like you were ripping it out, but he loved it, moaning into your pussy from the pleasure mixed with pain.

“Cum on my face,” he mumbled, his deep voice vibrating against your pussy.

“Heeseung,” you choked out your walls, squeezing his fingers nice and tight as you came.

“Just like that,” he mumbles to himself, rubbing your silky walls and pleasuring you through your orgasm from start to finish.

“Heeseung,” your chest heaved as you continued to moan his name, the sight between your legs down right filthy, his face drenched in your arousal as he lazily sucked and kissed your pussy, teasing you on purpose as he nipped at your core with his lips.

He shook your thighs lightly, pulling back and licking his lips.

Your taste is still fresh on his tongue.

You’re still trying to catch your breath, but he’s already reaching for his stash of condoms. Pulling one out, he tore the packet open, pulling out the rubber circle.

He placed it on his tip, his length already hard again just from eating you out. Your taste alone could probably make him cum again.

You lay breathless on his bed, just waiting for him to make his next move. Even if you just came, you still needed more to feel satisfied.

He effortlessly put the condom on and then joined you on the bed.

Hovering over you, he placed his fists beside your head, your legs automatically spreading to let him in between. He leaned down, placing a few soft kisses on your lips and chest, his cock occasionally brushing up against your pussy, the mood rising, and it takes barely anything to get either of you guys going again.

Just as his tip caught on to your hole, he was about to push in, but the loud banging on his door disrupts everything. “Fuck” he mutters in frustration, and you jump lightly from the sound.

“How much longer are you gonna fuck her? I'm hungry,” Jake whines from outside the door.

“Fuck off, just go without me!” Heeseung shouts back, clearly aggravated, and that’s enough for Jake to sulk and walk away from the door.

Heeseung sighed and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb as an apology.

You were so drunk on the idea of him fucking you you didn’t even care about his members being right next to you. Your inhibitions completely disappeared as you wrapped your arms around him, your eyes dazed out completely, and you focused on nothing but him.

You pulled him in for a kiss, your lips resting against his as you lowered your hand to his waist, pulling him in, and he wasted no more time pushing in your heat.

He clenched his jaw and breathed deeply through his nose, sheathing himself within your hot walls.

Your mouth opened, a soft breath exhaled, and you already felt so full with just half of him in you.

“Fuck” he cursed the soft look in your eyes, turning him on more than it probably should, but you just looked so fucking good, so cute and pliant for him. Your eyes were obviously full of lust, and he loved that you wanted it just as much as him.

He pushed in all the way, stilling in your heat so you could adjust but also for his sake cause he was about to lose his sanity. You were so tight and warm that even the layer of the condom wasn’t helping him much. The sensitivity was so strong. He could have cum the moment he entered you, but his willpower was too strong. He needed to fuck you and have you crying, screaming and begging for his dick.

He pulled out to the tip and then pushed right back inside, missing the warmth already. He hummed lowly, starting a steady rhythmic motion, his tip fucking in and out of you deeply.

“Oh, heeseung,” you breathed out, gripping his shoulders, your breasts sloshing from his soft yet powerful thrusts.

You whimpered quietly, taking every single last one of his inches, your lips pursed, and the way you looked at him, almost as if you were begging for more.

He gripped your thighs, pushing them up to your chest and pressing you into his mattress, his long dick hitting impossibly deep as his sweaty thighs clapped against your ass, and you’re sure everyone could hear how roughly he was fucking into you.

“Fuck!” He grunted, speeding up his thrusts, thick cock spearing into you perfectly.

You held onto his biceps as he drilled into you without abandon. “Yes!” You cried out softly. He felt so deep inside you.

“This dick feel good, Angel?” He smirked down at you, knowing you loved it by the look on your face.

You nodded your head rapidly, taking his cock deeply, loving the way you could feel him inside your guts.

“Let me hear. Tell me, is it good?” He said, panting, sweat forming on his body as the veins in his arms bulged.

“Yes, heeseung so good,” you moaned.

“Say it again,” he replied.

“Fuck yes, you fuck me so good,” you cry out, walls clenching on his cock.

“How good?” He digs in deeper, pressing your legs as close to your chest as possible, the bed creaking loudly as he slams his hips into you fucking in and out of your wet squelching hole.

“Fuck” Your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure too much to bear, your head spinning as you mewl, your body shaking from the intensity he fucks you with. “You’re so good, fuck, keep fucking my pussy daddy!” It slipped out by accident, but luckily for you, that just drove him even more wild.

“Yeah, you love daddy’s dick?” he grunts, the vein in his forehead popping out as sweat rolls off his body and onto yours. The air in the RV is tight, stuffy, and covered with steam and the smell of sex.

“Yes, harder, Daddy. Please fuck me harder!” The bed knocked against the wall, his thrusts completely relentless, his hips on autopilot as he plowed into you over and over again, your arousal covering his base and dripping down the crease of your ass.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, speeding up his thrusts fucking you the way you’re begging for it. “I’m so deep in you, Angel.”

His cock starts to twitch inside you, and he reaches down to your clit so you can come together. “Shit!” You moan out, and within an instant, you’re clamping down hard on his dick, letting go and cumming the hardest you’ve ever come.

“You’re gonna make me cum” he gives you three more strokes, and then he comes undone into the condom, breathing heavily and collapsing on top of you, his body sore as he searches for his breath.

He buried his face in your neck, both of you too tired to move and basking in the afterglow of that amazing session.

“We got another show tomorrow,” he breathes out after a few minutes. “You coming?”

He spoke against your neck, nibbling on it softly, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“No ticket,” you mumble out, stroking his sweaty back.

“I’m your ticket” he props himself up, looking down at you with a cocky grin. “All you gotta do is show up and look pretty.”

-

So that’s exactly what you did. You showed up and looked pretty. Heeseung paid extra attention to you for obvious reasons. You can’t believe one night you’re in the crowd hoping for him to notice you, and the next, he’s staring right at you after fucking your brains out the night prior.

The show was great, just like last night. The whole thing still felt unreal, and you were having a difficult time processing everything, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

They played the same set list, but you still enjoyed it, singing along and vibing with the crowd. After the concert was over, you met up with heeseung in the back, just like last night. He took your hand and led you straight to the RV, taking you to his room. “How’d you like the show?” He asked, smirking as he caressed your waist, closing the door with his foot as he pushed you further into his space.

“I loved it like always,” you say, trailing your index finger down his chest. He bit his lip, letting your hands roam over his sweaty body. You slipped your hands under his shirt, feeling his lean body beneath your fingertips, your thumbs grazing his erect nipples, and his breath hitches.

You lightly pushed him onto the bed, your hands working on his jeans, opening the button with urgency. “I’ll show you how much I liked it,” you say, kneeling before him on the bed.

You pull down his pants and boxers with a seductive look in your eye. His hard dick popping out was a sight to see. It somehow looked even better than last night. You eagerly pumped it up and down your lips, attaching it to his precum-stained tip, sucking off his sweaty essence.

You hollowed your cheeks, immediately going down on him, desperate to feel his thick cock on your tongue. You’d been thinking about it all night long.

You stroked his base with your palm before taking his full length into your mouth while gently rubbing his full balls.

“Shit” he wiped his hand over his face in disbelief at how good your mouth felt around him. He felt like he was dreaming.

He laid back, putting his hands behind his head and letting you have your way with his dick.

You transition from soft, slow strokes to sucking on him like his dick is your lifeline.

You moaned on his dick, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. You only had him last night, but now you lived for the taste. It was already so addicting. “So good,” you mumbled on his shaft, slurping him up whole.

“Oh fuck” his hips bucked slightly, his cock getting buried deeper in the back of your throat. “That’s it, keep sucking me in real deep,” he groans, bucking his hips a few times before cumming in your mouth unannounced, but he couldn’t have predicted he’d cum that fast something about your mouth felt magical to him and it had him cumming in mere seconds.

You continue to suck him in as deep as possible, obliging his wish and swallowing his cum until he goes soft in your mouth. You hesitantly pull off him, wiping the corner of your lips with your thumb and sucking it clean, showing him you wouldn’t let a drop go to waste.

“Ass up face down for me,” he orders impatiently, taking off his clothes while you do the same, fumbling with your articles of clothing till they’re off and getting into position for him to fuck you.

He takes out a condom from the same drawer as last night, putting it on easily like he’s done it a million times and positioning himself behind you. “Gonna fuck this wet pussy so good” he glides his cock through your pussy lips, wetting it up.

“Please,” you beg, your hole hot, clenching, and ready for him to take you.

He moves forward on the bed aiming his cock at your hole, and he ruts in, burying himself in your tight cunt with ease. “So fucking tight for daddy, yeah?”

“Shit, yes,” Your eyes fluttered shut as you squeezed the sheets burying your face into his pillows, your walls relaxing around his cock, allowing him to sink in balls deep.

He started out rough, his strokes slow but strong, digging into the depths of your soaked pussy. “Yes,” you moaned, your sounds of pleasure muffled by his pillows as your walls sucked him in, desperately needing more.

He pulled nearly all the way out and roughly slammed back in, knocking the air from your lungs. “Oh!” You panted, your body sliding up the bed with each thrust, your hard nipples brushing against his mattress.

His soft hands pinned you down to the bed, forcing you to arch your back as deep as it could go, and that’s when you felt it, his tip bumping right against your cervix.

You laid there taking his deep back shots, and you got so wet his dick was just sliding in and out of you as you chanted yes over and over again. “Take this dick, angel. Just like that. Look at you swallowing my cock” he spanked you as his sweaty thighs kept hitting your butt with every thrust of his hips. Your pussy was so wet and creamy with each stroke your juices were splashing on his bed and staining the sheets, and the sight was to die for.

“Yes, give it to me, fill me with your cock” you cried out, giving your hole to him and letting him fuck you hard, rough, deep, and fast, just the way you needed.

“Nasty girl, you’re so shameless for my cock. You love this, don’t you?” He taunts fucking you to the hilt, nuzzling his wet tip against your cervix.

“Yes, Daddy,” you drooled on the sheets, your back arching to take more of his dick as his heavy sack slapped against your throbbing clit.

He gripped your waist tighter, holding you in place to fuck you impossibly deep.

It only took a few more precise rolls of his hips before he was groaning loudly and cumming into the condom. “Shit shit shit,” he stutters, mouth going slack in a loud, drawn-out moan.

He positioned his right hand under you, easily finding your clit to massage it until you finished, which was embarrassingly quick. “I’m cumming daddy!” His thrusts turn slow over, sensitivity taking over the both of you as he rubs your clit till your walls clamp down on him, milking him for all his creamy nut.

Collapsing down on top of you, he kisses your shoulders, nibbling at the skin and panting. “Come on tour with me,” he says out of the blue while you’re still trying to catch your bearings.

“What?” You say, confused, your brain still fuzzy and fucked out.

“You heard me.” he kisses your cheek. “Come on tour with me. Don’t think I can live without being inside you every day.”

“Hee-“

“Fuck y/n, just say yes,” he whines desperately and thrusts his hips, tiredly, already addicted to you, the faint pulsing of your walls making him grow hard inside you all over again. “Feel that what you do to me? Please say yes. I need you so bad.”

“What about the members? And we barely even know each other.” You stutter, feeling his tip rubbing at your g spot. Your words holding no real conviction.

“They won’t care. Besides, what better way to get to know you than from the inside out?” he hums, his cock twitching inside you at the implication.

You contemplated, but it didn’t take you long to agree, too smitten with him to say no. After all, it is Lee heeseung, no and his name could not be used in the same sentence when it came to you. “Y-yes”

“That’s my good fucking girl” he props himself up on his palms, sensually rolling his hips, giving you a night you won’t soon forget.

-

When you two are finally done, it’s three in the morning, and countless cum filled condoms lay on the bed with your sweaty, spent bodies.

His breath is still slightly heavy from exhaustion as he rolls to the side of the bed, reaching into his bedside nightstand and pulling out a lighter and a pre-rolled joint.

He holds it to his lips, taking a puff slowly. He exhaled as his eyes fluttered closed, pleasure filling every inch of his body.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” You cuddle close to his side, a finger trailing his sweaty pecs.

He just chuckles softly. “Do you?” You shook your head no. “We gotta change that, here.” he sits up, holding the lit joint to your lips. “Open.” You part your lips slightly with no hesitation cause of who’s asking, and he places it between them. “Now suck on it and hold for two seconds” You do as he says, and you end up choking right away, causing him to smile endearingly at your effort. “We’ll work on that.” he pats your back softly.

After a few attempts, you’re inhaling and exhaling like a pro. The feeling of being high was foreign yet enjoyable as you lay naked in his arms, cuddling. “Never knew a person could look so sexy while smoking,” he comments, and it makes you blush.

He takes a hit and then passes it to you, stroking your thigh and pulling you over his lap as he palms at your bare ass, squeezing softly. “Hee,” you exhale softly, whining from his sensual grip. You were so tired from the previous rounds, yet your pussy was still throbbing for him.

He moans lowly after hearing your soft, needy whines. “Take another hit,” he said softly, eyes hooded as he gripped your ass, grabbing two handfuls, this time kneading on it as he leaned in to suck on your left nipple.

You throw your head back, pleasure taking over you as he moves to your breasts, groping them in his large hands, his mouth moving to each nipple as you feel his cock growing hard underneath you.

You shyly began to roll your hips over his length, your pussy leaving sticky trails of arousal on his dick.

He smirks at your movements, you hold the blunt to his lips this time, and he takes it with no hesitation.

You gripped his shoulders, grinding on his hard dick. It didn’t take long for you both to want more, and you lifted up slightly, grabbing his base and guiding it to your wet hole. “Slow down, Angel, I don’t even have a condom on yet,” he chuckled at your recklessness. “You just really want my dick bad, huh? he teases you and you moan shamelessly, hips rolling in search of his dick.

You take the reins, hands reaching for the drawer with his condoms. You don’t notice what else is inside other that the condoms, and you take out a single condom, ripping it open impatiently as you lean back on his thighs, easily slipping the condom down his erect length.

He watched you as you did all the work, taking a few drags of his joint as he laid beneath you.

You repositioned yourself over him once again, aligning your dripping core with his cock, and you immediately sunk down on him, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of being so full.

You sat on his hard cock, walls throbbing around him, eyes falling shut as you took a solid moment to embrace the feeling of his thickness pressed against every inch of your wet walls.

He held your waist with his left hand running his fingers along your skin softly as you began to bounce on his cock, the pace slow at first but gradually speeding up. “You’re so fucking tight” he squeezed his fingers into your waist, huffing softly each time you came down on his length.

You whimper softly, arching your back as you rested your hands on his chest for support. “Fuck” you moaned, breathing heavily as you rode his thick cock, your legs feeling tired already cause of the feeling of being split open was so good, but you kept your pace, going up and down restlessly.

The sound of your sweaty thighs softly smacking against his, along with steam, the smell of sex and smoke filled his room. “Ride on me just like that,” he encourages, taking one more hit before setting the lit joint aside to take hold of your hips, pulling you down forcibly on his cock. “Fuck yourself on this dick angel.”

“Mmm, hee,” you whined, your legs burning and your walls clenching as his words went straight to your core. “Fuck, i love your cock so much,” you moaned, tits jumping up and down in his face as you bounced on it.

“Shit,” your words make his dick twitch inside you, and he feels like he’s not gonna last much longer. “Show me how much you love it.”

His words fuel you to go faster, slamming yourself down on his dick over and over as you clawed at his bare chest.

Your pussy creamed around the condom, a wet mess between your guy's groin area as wet squelching sounds mixed in with your lewd, broken moans.

Heeseung didn’t announce when he came, but you knew by the way his brows creased, and his abs clenched that he was close. “Bounce on it just like that” he groans out and seconds later you felt the familiar hard throbbing of his cock, and he was emptying himself out into the condom with a loud moan.

You kept bouncing on him, and he put his thumb on your overstimulated clit, circling it until you joined him seconds later, squeezing out every last ounce of cum he had left in his body. As it seeped into the condom, you wished that you could feel him cumming, inside you instead.

“Kiss Daddy,” he breathed out, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him. He pulled you into his chest, and you both passed out seconds later with him still nestled in you.

-

You woke up in his arms the next morning, the blunt from last night completely burnt out in his ashtray, the sun peeking through the curtains blinding you.

You buried your face in his neck, hiding from the sun and inhaling his scent, which was a mixture of sweat cologne, weed and maybe a bit of what you two did last night.

With you tickling his chest, he wakes up from his slumber, gently stroking your shoulder, his eyes still closed. “Hmm,” he groans, his voice deep with sleep. “What time is it, Angel?” He mumbles, looking at the clock.

“It’s 12, baby,” you hum.

“We’re late for breakfast,” he replies groggily, eyes flicking open as he turns to you with a tired smile.

“I could always have mine here,” you joke, nibbling on his pec.

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he chuckles. “Come on, Angel,” he whispers, and both of you finally climb out of bed, finding whatever clothes that weren’t stained with sweat or cum.

When you left his room, it was quite awkward as you ate a late breakfast with his bandmates. He had already told them earlier in the morning when you were still asleep, you’d be going on tour with them, and needless to say, they all gave him shit about.

“You fell in love with a girl in the crowd,” Jake teased him first.

“For real, did you see him? He couldn’t keep his eyes off her the second-night dude was trying so hard not to get a boner on stage,” Jay chimed in.

“Enough,” heeseung sighed. “I didn’t fall for shit. I’m just keeping her around for the tour.”

“What?” Jake replied surprised, his eyes puppy-like and innocent.

“Just for the tour, it’s much easier than getting a new girl every night. Plus, her head game is absolute heaven,” heeseung says nonchalantly and kicks his feet up on a small table.

“Dude, that is even low for you, and that’s saying a lot,” Sunghoon said.

“If she’s stupid enough to think I want anything to do with her outside her pussy, then that’s her problem, not mine” he shrugged.

“You’re literally taking her on a tour that still has months left. If I was her, I’d be getting mixed signals too,” Jay states the obvious.

Heeseung reaches into his pocket, lighting up a joint. “Don’t care. She barely even knows me, so I doubt she’s getting mixed signals.”

“Okay, okay, interesting,” Jake hums, rubbing his chin in thought.

“What?” Heeseung asked as he exhaled a puff of smoke.

“So you don’t like her like that, right? Just using her for sex?” Jake asked to confirm.

“And?” Heeseung said, not seeing where Jake was going with this.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jake smirks to himself.

“Whatever bullshit you’re thinking of, you can fuck right off,” heeseung says immediately.

“Nah, it’s cool. It’s just if you don’t like her, I was thinking of getting a piece for myself. I wouldn’t mind some good head right now,” Jake reasons.

“No,” heeseung dismisses right away.

“Bro, why not?” Jake whines. “You don’t like her.”

“I don’t, but I also don’t like the idea of kissing lips that were on your pathetic dick,” heeseung fires back.

“Come on, bros, before hoes, right?” Jake doesn’t let it go as easily as heeseung would like, and Jay and Sunghoon sigh at their antics.

“No, and if any of you fuckers go near her, we’re gonna have serious problems,” heeseung warns.

“Possessive much,” Sunghoon eggs on, and heeseung rolls his eyes, growing tired of the conversation.

“You got it, boss,” Jake saluted. “But hey, if she comes on to me, just know I’m not saying no, especially cause she’s not even claimed that’s free game.” he shrugged.

Heeseung clenched his jaw as he got up, leaving the room where he could still hear them making remarks about you.

That was how his morning went, but hopefully, his afternoon could be spent without his bandmates irritating him.

As you all ate silently at breakfast, heeseung had his hand placed on your knee, stroking it softly while eating away like he hadn’t eaten in days, but after using all his energy on you last night, he needed it, especially for tonight’s show.

The boys gave each other knowing looks and didn’t hesitate to pick up their teasing from earlier in the morning. “So, y/n, where are you from?” Sunghoon grabs your attention as you bite into a slice of bacon.

“Here,” heeseung answers for you, nodding his head with a soft hum.

“Did you know about our group prior to the concert, or did you happen to stumble across us?” Sunghoon continues to have conversation with you.

“U-uhh, no, I’ve listened to you guys for quite a while now,” you answer shyly.

“And who’s your favorite?” You automatically lowered your head shyly, glancing at heeseung.

“All of you,” you answered, and heeseung’s hand that was on your knee paused.

“It’s okay, to be honest,” Jake chuckled, and his voice alone made you blush. His accent was so nice to hear in person.

“Yeah, we’re big boys. We can handle it,” Jay joins in.

“It’s heeseung,” you mutter bashfully, and heeseung smirks to himself at your response. He resumes stroking your kneecap with his thumb.

“Ahh the bad boy” sunghoon says. “Wouldn’t get too close if I were you.”

Heeseung discreetly glared at Sunghoon, sensing exactly where this was going.

You looked at Sunghoon, wondering what he meant by that, but heeseung quickly interjected before you could ask questions. “Okay, it’s time to go over our lines.” heeseung makes up an excuse to get Sunghoon to shut his mouth before he says too much.

“For what? It’s the same set list as last night,” Sunghoon mumbles, taking a drink of juice, the other two noticing the obvious tension.

“Can we talk outside for a moment?” Heeseung excused himself from the table, and Sunghoon followed him, offering you a kind smile.

“The fuck is your problem?” Heeseung asked once out of earshot.

“What are you even talking about?” Sunghoon crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance written in his stance

“What were you about to tell her?” Heeseung demanded.

“Nothing, just the truth. Are we done?” Sunghoon replied, tired of the conversation before it even began.

“No, sunghoon, we’re not done back the fuck off, alright? She’s grown. She can fend for herself and make her own decisions.”

“Why? Scared she won’t stick around when she finds out you fuck anything with a pussy, that you don’t do shit other than smoke, drink, and black out?”

“That’s none of your fucking business, and neither is it hers” heeseung angrily walked past Sunghoon, intentionally bumping his shoulder on the way out.

When they came back, you and the guys were all having a full-blown conversation, smiling and talking with them, learning a little about their off-stage personalities, and now being around them wasn’t half as awkward.

“I’m gonna go shower, okay?” Heeseung whispered to you, kissing you on the cheek. “You can join me if you want.” he licked the shell of your ear teasingly while the guys talked amongst themselves, and you’re thankful they didn’t see just how flustered heeseung’s action made you.

It didn’t take long for you to finish breakfast and politely excuse yourself, following heeseung to the shower, where he was already inside naked, letting the water cascade down his perfect body. “You made it,” he says with a tired smile once you join him inside.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking up at him, your hands finding their rightful place on his pecs.

His hands naturally roam your lower half squeezing your ass as he bends down to press a kiss to your lips.

He reached down, grabbed his soap, and lathered it on his hands before covering your body in the sudsy foam hands roaming your body but mainly focusing on your ass and breasts, fondling them softly.

You felt his hard cock pressing into you, and you moaned softly. “Heeseung,” he grins, knowing the effect his touch leaves on your body.

“Turn around for me,” he whispered. After cleaning your body, you do as he says, feeling his cock nudged against your ass.

He moves the two of you out of the water stream, pushing you against the wall, your cheek resting on the cold tile, palms pressed into the wall to brace yourself.

He bends down, littering the side of your neck with kisses, hands fondling your breasts as he ruts his cock against your ass.

Your eyes fall shut, mouth parting to let out soft moans as your core begins to pulse with heat.

His hands trail down to your hips, maneuvering your body in the perfect arch.

His hips pressed flush against your ass, his cock slotted between your upper thighs as your arousal stained his hardened cock.

You can’t help but back up against him, eager to feel him inside you.

Smirking at your movement, he pulls his hips back, palm sliding from your right hip to your core, where he inserts two of his thick fingers, taking your breath away.

Your walls clench down on him, immediately welcoming the stretch and the pleasuring glide of his skilled fingers.

“Hmm, yes,” you moan softly, aware of his members being just a few feet away from the two of you.

He opens you nicely as his left-hand drops between your legs to play with your clit.

Your legs nearly give out, but you brace yourself against the wall using your last bits of strength and sanity to hold yourself up, and you can’t believe just his fingers made you this weak.

He bites his lips speeding up the pace of his fingers inside you and on your clit, loving the sound of your wetness. It was so loud it overpowered the sound of the water hitting the shower floor, and he didn’t know what was wetter, the shower or you, as your arousal dripped down his wrist.

Your walls flutter around his fingers, and you let out endless soft moans as the pads of his fingers hit that spot over and over again. “Ah ahh hee, I’m cumming” You mewl, back arching as you squeeze around his fingers tightly, letting the pleasure take over your body.

A relieved smile takes over your features, and your eyes shut in pure bliss as he caresses your walls through your orgasm.

Before you could fully recover from that beautiful orgasm, his fingers slipped out of you, and you were immediately stuffed with his cock. He slowly pushed all the way in with one thrust, his thickness filling you up completely. “Fuckkk,” you cried out, legs shaking in pleasure.

His pace was fast from the start, the loud clap of your wet bodies colliding when he bottomed out, echoing against the tiled walls.

“Hmm, mm,” you moaned with each stroke, your sounds of pleasure never ceasing cause every time he entered, you felt better than the last.

Placing a hand on your lower back, he arches you further, allowing his dick to penetrate your deepest parts.

He grabs your hair with his other hand, tangling it in his palm, exposing your neck so he can lean in and place kisses there.

He fucks into you faster, watching the recoil of your ass every time he slams his thick cock into you, the sight turning him on even more. “Fuck” he groans, breathing deeply through his nose, listening to the sounds of your wet pussy taking his dick.

He can’t help but go rougher with each rut of his hips, making you lose balance. You stumble forward, not prepared for his tip kissing against your cervix. “Taking it so good.” he goes even harder till you’re up against the wall with no choice but to take everything he has to give you, your wet breasts smushed against the walls as he drills into your heat continuously.

Your moans are far louder than they were before, but you can’t help it. It just feels too good. You back your ass up on him, meeting his thrusts, desperately trying to feel all of his cock as you fuck back on him. “Yeah, Angel, that’s it, fuck yourself on daddy’s dick.”

“Yes, Daddy,” you cry out, using all your strength and your desire for the man behind you to press yourself flush against his abdomen fucking yourself on his long thick cock.

His grip tightened in your hair, his right hand going to your clit in circles as he overpowers you, thrusting into you so hard and deep that you can’t keep up; you succumb to the pleasure of taking everything he’s giving you. “Fuck, feels so fucking good” he throws his head back, the warm water from the shower doing little to help the chill running down his spine.

His tip slides in so smoothly, your ridged walls bringing him so much pleasure that he can’t help but cum. He leans forward, wet chest pressed against your back as he moans in your ear. “Cum on this dick, angel” That’s all it takes for you to cream around him. Your body shaking violently, he releases your hair, holding you up by your throat instead, using just enough pressure to bring you unexplainable amounts of pleasure. Your tongue falls out, eyes rolling back in your head, your pussy still begging and aching for his cock.

“More,” you choke out, your oxygen being cut off from his firm grip mixed with steam in the shower.

You reach your hand back, holding onto his waist for some kind of support as he pounds in from behind.

He feels your walls still clenching tightly despite your first orgasm, and he holds off from cumming, making you cum again with the gentle circles he applied to your sensitive clit.

Your legs gave out, and if it wasn’t for him holding you by your throat, you would have collapsed. Your knees gave in, your body trembling, your voice shaking as you let the pleasure consume your body. “Cream on daddy’s dick, angel, just like that,” he murmurs voice low in your ear, hot breath fanning against your skin as he leaves wet open, mouth kisses on your neck and back.

He holds you still, quickly pulling out and jerking his cock. “Daddy’s gonna cum” he groans, spilling his thick creamy cum all over your lower back and ass. “Fuck” he grits through his teeth, stroking his thick cock till his balls are empty and you’re stained in his messy release.

Running a finger through his wet hair, he huffs out a heavy breath leaning back to admire how you look, all wrecked, bent over, and covered in his cum.

He chuckles softly, kissing the center of your back and playfully biting on your shoulder before turning you around to face him. “You liked that a lot, huh?” He teases, looking at your fucked out expression, and all you can do is nod, too overcome with pleasure to properly respond.

He brought you to his chest, standing you up straight as he caressed your body. “I'm addicted to you, Angel,” he hummed against your skin, and you relaxed against him, panting softly. “You know that right?” He grins.

You giggled shyly at his words, feeling giddy and warm as he held you close, washing your body clean of his release.

After the steamy session in the shower, you both got ready, sharing the small sink to brush your teeth together.

When you were done, you exited the bathroom together in nothing but your towel, him following closely after you.

He spanked your bottom, and you giggled, speeding up to escape him. He grinned and chased after you through the living room, blocking the TV screen where Jay and Jake were gaming and shouting about you guys being in the way. Heeseung was giggling while holding his towel around his waist until you guys reached his bedroom, and finally, you had nowhere to run. “Caught you,” he said, out of breath, and held you against him, breathing heavily from chasing you.

With his face so close, your giggles died down in your throat, and he eyed your face, the sunlight poking through the curtains magnifying your beauty, and he couldn’t help but notice how pretty you looked in the natural sunlight freshly out of the shower.

His gaze was so intense it took your breath away as you got lost in it. “You caught me,” you whispered, warm breath fanning his face.

He closed whatever distance was between you two, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He pulled away, eyes fluttering open as he smiled brightly at you. “Let’s get dressed and go to the store. Gotta get you tour ready.”

-

By the time you and heeseung left the store, it was nightfall, and the concert was about to start. Within an hour, you watched from the sidelines backstage with the band.

It was cool seeing the process and the behind-the-scenes work.

It’s still crazy to think not even a week ago, you’d do just about anything to have this opportunity, and somehow, you’re lucky enough to be here right now. A part of you still couldn’t believe it.

You used to watch them on your computer from your bed, and now you’re fucking the lead singer and getting to attend every concert.

Heeseung noticed you, thinking you were adorable. As you watched them setting up, he walked over to you with a flirty smile on his lips. “Your eyes on me only, please” he teased.

“All I see is you,” you replied, arms encircling his neck as you stood on your tiptoes to peck his lips. “Can’t wait to see you perform.”

“Can’t wait to perform for you,” he smiles, kissing you back, getting a little too lost in the moment, his hands groping your ass as you moan into his mouth, letting his tongue explore you.

“Save it for after the show,” Jay says in protest, watching you guys going at it like teenagers.

Heeseung smirked against your lips, pulling you into him even closer as his bandmates grumbled in the background.

When you needed a breather, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Heeseung!” Jake scolded. “We’re on in one minute.”

“Can’t wait to fuck you after the show” he kissed your lips one last time and headed onto the stage, leaving you a flustered mess.

When you caught your bearings, you quickly went through the front, checking in like normal, except your seat was closest to the stage, a spot reserved for family and friends. You sat down in your spot and waited for the show to start, which was fairly soon since heeseung had taken up all the time to make out with you.

You were enjoying the show like the previous nights, well, for the most part, but when the final song came on, and heeseung was doing his signature move, you couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy that bubbled in your chest cause why was he smiling at other girls and doing it for them and not you?

You knew it was an overreaction on your part, but still, the feeling lingered as girls screamed over him, and he entertained it, too, grabbing their hands and blowing them kisses like you were not even there. Not once did he do any of that with you.

But you remember it’s only fan service.

The show ended, and you went out back to the RV, waiting for them to do their fan meeting. In the back, your mood now completely ruined.

Obviously, you didn’t go cause you knew them personally, so there was really no point, besides you wanted to give yourself a moment to calm down and think rationally because you were feeling jealous for no reason.

You waited for them, scrolling on your phone to pass the time, and still, you couldn’t shake that jealous feeling inside your chest.

When it was over, the first thing heeseung did was find you at the back of the RV on his bed. “Hey, angel,” he smiled tiredly at you, his body still soaked in sweat as he opened his arms for a hug.

You embraced him, feeling the heat still radiating off his body as he engulfed you. “You only watched me, right?” He chuckled, leaning back to admire your beautiful face.

You didn’t say anything, only giving him a small smile as you nodded your head.

It was undeniable that there was indifference on your face, and he didn’t hesitate to question you about it. “What’s wrong, Angel?” He asks tenderly, thumb swiping a small piece of hair away from your face.

“It’s nothing,” you assure him, patting his back, but he’s still not convinced.

“Come on, tell daddy what’s wrong, sugar.” he tilts your chin up, pecking your lips briefly.

“It’s just…” you hesitate.

“Here,” he says, placing his hand on your lower back and climbing into bed with you.

You cuddled up next to him, nervously playing with your hands. “Talk to me.” he placed his hand on your knee, stroking it softly.

“It’s stupid, but it’s just the way you looked at those girls in the crowd.” You feel embarrassed as soon as the words leave your lips, but it’s true, and you aren’t going to lie to him, no matter how embarrassing it is.

A smile tugs at his lips, already knowing what you’re getting at, and he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t his intention. He just wanted to see how much of an effect it’d have on you, and your reaction just boosted his ego. “Angel, it’s all for show. They mean nothing. Besides, why would I waste time on them when I can come backstage to this?” he slides his hand up your thigh, opening your legs slightly and slipping his hand up your skirt, cupping your heat. You gasp, eyes widening in surprise, the insecure thoughts from earlier disappearing in your mind within a second. “Was thinking bout this pussy the whole time,” he leans in, his forehead resting against yours as he thumbs at your clit a little. “Don’t worry, that pretty little head, okay angel?”

Your breathing was heavy, your face hot as he added slight pressure to your clit, stroking it up and down through the material of your underwear. “Hee,” you breathed out weakly, holding his wrist as your eyes closed softly, body easily caving to the pleasure.

“Gonna let daddy satisfy this pussy, hmm?” His middle finger presses against your covered hole teasingly. “Know you want it, Angel. Saw the way you kept looking at me on stage, the look in your eyes practically begging me to fuck you just like the first night I saw you.”

“Hmph,” your eyes roll back in your head as you nod, a soft knot forming on your forehead.

“Hmmm,” he grins softly. “Lay back for me.”

Your body melts into his mattress, and he lays between your legs, hands flipping up the bottom of your skirt, revealing your covered core.

He presses his face right against your cunt, inhaling your scent deeply, eyes closed as his tongue falls out, licking a wet stripe up your pussy.

You whimper, breath already heavy as you feel his warm spit seeping through your panties and wetting your already damp pussy lips.

He sucks your clit through the fabric, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your thighs as his cock grows beneath his jeans.

He slips your panties to the side, unveiling your pretty little pussy. Licking his lips at the sight, he swiped his tongue along your entrance, the tip poking in and out of your wet hole.

Groaning at the taste of you, he purses his lips, rubbing them along your swollen cunt, head, tilting to the side to make out with your pussy, his tongue flicking inside your hole, exploring you with it and embedding the warmth and feeling of you on his tastebuds.

“Heeseung,” a breathless moan escapes your lips, your body hot with pleasure as he gives your clit some love and attention.

He softly licks on the sensitive bud before pulling it between his soft pink lips.

He pulls away, savoring your juices, eyes closed, as he licks his lips like he’s trying to memorize your taste.

He pushes his face right against your pussy buried between your thighs, his mouth pleasuring every inch of your pussy as he licks you like he’s absolutely in love with your exquisite taste.

Your breath grows heavier while you bury your hands in his damp hair, and that’s when he pumps two thick fingers in your hole, turning you into a complete mess.

Your body reacts to his touch, walls clenching, clit pulsating with arousal as the sound of his wet mouth slurping on your pussy fills your ears.

He hums in satisfaction, curling his fingers up smoothly, flicking the spot he knows makes your knees buckle and your legs shake. “Yes, Daddy,” you whine, eyes shut, focusing on the feeling of him devouring your cunt.

Kneading your left thigh, he continues stroking your pussy with his fingers and sucking your clit precisely till you’re moaning out loudly seconds from your orgasm.

With one final suck, you let go, clamping down violently on his fingers, soaking them in even more of your juices. “Fuck heeseung shit,” you mewl softly.

“Tastes like heaven,” he murmurs, the soft vibrations of his deep voice making you jolt softly, back arching off the bed as you let the pleasure wash over you. “Now let me show you what I was thinking about all night.”

He stands up, ridding himself of each article of clothing, throwing the damp clothes onto the floor somewhere.

His focus soon turns to you, and he impatiently undresses you, his hands yanking down your skirt and panties.

You sit up briefly, allowing him to slip your top over your head, and within the blink of an eye, your bra is unclasped, leaving you completely naked while your clothes join his pile on the floor.

Like every other night the two of you have fucked, he reaches into his drawer, condom packets in hand, along with something else that he sets aside for now before returning to you on the bed.

“On your stomach,” he doesn’t need to tell you twice. It’s automatic at this point. Whatever he says, you do, no questions asked, cause you know whatever he does to you, you’ll love it cause you’re absolutely infatuated with him.

You hear a sharp pop sound but think nothing of it until you feel a warm gel-like sensation between your ass, and before you can question it, you feel his index finger slipping into your ass, gliding in easily with the help of what you come to realize was lube.

“Mhmp,” you gripped his sheets, a whimper leaving your throat as you felt him sink his finger inside you knuckle deep.

“Feels so tight” he straddles your lower half, and you reach your hands behind you pulling your ass cheeks apart and giving him free rein over your body as he fingers your tight rim.

It felt unlike something you’ve ever felt before, but it was so good it had your toes curling.

He made sure you were nice and warmed up, adding in finger after finger till you were well adjusted and taking him with ease. Your body was writhing on the bed. The friction from the sheets against your clit caused your hole to leak immensely, a puddle of arousal between your thighs.

You were moaning softly, coming to love the feeling of something deeply penetrating your ass. His thick fingers prepped you so well.

He grabbed the bottle of lube, squeezing more into his hand, covering his whole shaft from base to tip, groaning softly as he stroked his aroused length. “Gonna let daddy fuck this nice little ass, hmm?”

“Yes, Daddy, please fuck my ass,” you begged shamelessly, but how could you not? The idea of him filling another one of your holes was far too arousing to resist.

He pulls out his fingers, watching your rim twitch with anticipation. He holds the bottle above your hole, squeezing some more lube on and smearing it over your hole with the head of his cock. “Fuck” he curses under his breath. Just the idea of being inside your ass, turning him on.

Pressing his tip on your hole, he slowly sinks in, disappearing inch by inch. The feeling makes you wince. It was unusual but good, really good, as he pushed in deeper, and you felt so full, his thick cock plugging you up completely.

“So fucking tight for me” he moves your hands so he can massage your ass while he stays nestled in you, letting you adjust.

“Ahh,” you moan when he pulls back, feeling his tip sliding in and out of you.

“Like the way daddy feels in that ass, angel?” He bites his lip, hands spreading your cheeks open, watching you sucking him back in every time he pulls out slightly.

“Yes,” you breathe out, relaxing completely and welcoming him inside you.

He drags his hips back just the tip inside before sinking in slowly again. “Fuckkkk me, Angel,” he throws his head back, eyes shut, as he swallows hard, rocking his hips into you, fucking your tight ass.

You lay there taking it, your lower half feeling numb but so good.

You never imagined that his dick would feel so good in your ass, but now that you’ve felt him like this, you think you might already be addicted, and you never wanted him to pull out. “Fuck my ass, hee,” you cry weakly, taking his dick to the hilt.

“Yeah? Like that, huh? Taking my dick up your tight little ass, right angel?”

You moan in response, and that gives him all the confirmation to keep going fucking your ass without a care in the world.

He drops his head down to watch his cock disappear in your ass. Your hole stretched open to take his thick veiny length. “Want daddy to cum in your ass? Claim this tight little hole.”

“Hmm, mm yes, d-daddy, please.”

“Mhh yeah, such a slut for daddy’s cock and cum aren’t you, angel?” You nodded frantically, your hole squeezing around his cock, begging for his cum.

He grabs your wrist holding your arms back, using you for leverage to slam his cock deep in your ass. His hot sweaty skin slams against yours, the loud sound echoing in his room as you scream out in pleasure. “Fuck yeah, scream for this dick,” he moans, sweat leaking from his forehead as he drills into you. “Gonna cum in your ass, angel,” he grunts, stilling inside you, his tired hips bucking while releasing your arms and falling on top of you, panting heavily as his cum shoots deep inside your ass. “God fuck” he breathes out, nuzzling into your neck, hips thrusting incessantly as he fills you with every last drop, his body trembling in pleasure.

It takes you both a moment to even move your bodies, feeling paralyzed from the pleasure.

He kisses your neck and pulls out his soft dick. Some minutes later, his milky white cum escapes your hole and drips down between your thighs onto the sheets.

You turn over on your back, covered in sweat, breathing heavily, the feeling of his cock inside your ass still lingering as you clench around nothing.

You stare up at the ceiling, not really able to pay attention to your surroundings after being fucked utterly senseless.

Heeseung grabbed the condom packet from earlier, tearing it open and sliding it down his hard length. He was insatiable. Something about your body had his body reacting in ways it hadn’t before. He was already hard again in seconds.

He takes place between your legs, grabbing your thighs and positioning them around his thin waist.

He smirks at the look of shock on your face as he aligns himself with your hole.

You looked between your legs, watching as he slowly pushed his tip in. “Hee-heeseung,” you gripped his biceps, holding on for dear life as he entered you, pausing to lean in and give you a kiss.

“Need you so fucking bad,” he whines, veins bulging in his neck as he bottoms out, every muscle in his body sore he should rest, but he can’t help himself. His cock betrays him as it goes impossibly hard inside you, twitching and begging for another release.

“Then take me,” you say hoarsely, watching him fall apart above you, his sweat leaking down onto your body as his mouth falls open in a silent moan while he slowly fucks into you. “Take my fucking pussy, Daddy. It’s all yours,” you moan, squeezing your breasts and toying with your nipples.

“Fuck” he moans impatiently, snapping his hips as if he’s jealous of your hands. He moves them out of the way, trading places so he can fondle your breasts and tweak your hardened nipples instead. “So soft.” he squeezed your mounds, rolling his hips sensually, his tip filling you up entirely.

Your hands roam his sweaty abdomen until you reach his chest, thumbs circling his nipples, and he feels himself losing it. It was all too much for him to withstand. His cock was already so sensitive from cumming prior, and he couldn’t stop himself.

Knowing he wasn’t far off, he left your breasts to play with your clit rubbing it up and down harshly. “Cum on daddy’s dick, angel, Please, need to feel you,” his voice comes out soft and pleading. “Cum with me, please,” he begs.

The sound of his moans mixed with the feeling of his body on top of yours and his cock reaching that special spot had you easily coming undone, walls spasming around his condom-covered shaft. “H-heeseung,” you huffed out. It felt like an out-of-body experience, and all you felt was pleasure riddled all over your body.

“Fuck yes, just like that, keep squeezing my dick, angel” he cums inside the condom hard, spurt after spurt shot out, and he so badly wanted to cum in your pussy instead.

He rests on top of you, both your bodies drenched in sweat and exhausted out of your minds.

As you both lay there panting, he pulls out of you with a gentle hiss, his cock softening as he peels the condom off his sensitive length.

He’s shocked to see the amount of semen filling up nearly half the condom, and he’s surprised it didn’t overflow. He can’t remember a time he’s ever cum that much.

Tossing the used latex aside, he hovers over your body, and before he can even think about moving to take a shower, your arms are reaching for him. He gives In immediately, body too tired to say no.

He held you in his arms, and neither of you said a word, but nothing needed to be said after that heated moment, and just minutes later, you both drifted off to sleep.

-

You woke up next to a naked heeseung laying on his back as you lightly trailed his chest with your fingertips.

You see him smile before opening his eyes, his groggy morning voice getting you. “Hey, angel”

“Hey, hee,” you cuddle up closer to him, and he wraps an arm around you.

“My angel sleep well?” He clears his voice gently as he opens his eyes, looking down at you from the corner of his eye.

You nodded shyly, resting your head on his chest.

“Daddy knows how to put his angel to sleep,” he teases, referring to last night, you hid your head in the crook of his neck, shy at the mention of last night. “You took me so well, Angel. Didn’t know you had all that in you.” he goes on further, teasing you for the fun of it. “Just thinking about it is making me hard.”

From his praise, you gained a surge of confidence, your hand slyly lowering to between his legs. “Yeah?” You bit your lip softly, your eyebrow slightly raised.

“Ooh shit,” he chuckles lightly as you slowly stroke his dick under the sheets. “Yeah, really.” he turns on his side, cupping your cheek and pressing a soft kiss on your lips before leaning up.

You smiled at him, kissing along his chest while pumping his cock. “Get on your knees and suck it.”

You obey his order, getting out of bed and getting on your knees right away.

He sits up, legs spread out, and you busy your hands on his dick, both of them working up and down his shaft while he reaches into his drawer, grabbing the supplies to roll his blunt for the morning.

You occupy yourself with his dick enveloping him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his cock on your tongue as you lap at his wet slit.

His eyes are drowsy, hooded with sleep and arousal as he packs the paper with ground-up weed. “Keep sucking it like that, Angel,” he sighs, watching himself disappear in your warm wet mouth, running a hand through his messy hair.

His abs tense, toes curling at the sensation when he feels close. He holds your cheek, keeping you still. “Lick it for me, Angel.” he holds the paper to your mouth, letting you wet the it so he can seal his blunt. “There you go, lick it the same way you lick my cock” he bites his lips, enjoying the sight of your wet tongue swiping along the paper. “Good,” he cooed, stroking your cheek. “Now suck” he holds the blunt to your lips, lighting it up and letting you take the first hit.

When you exhale, he guides your head back to his dick, and you open up, taking his hard length in your mouth again, slurping him up.

He shudders when the blunt hit his lips, the feeling of your saliva coming in contact with his lips making his eyes roll and his thighs twitch as he inhales deeply, his head falling backward as he indulges in his two favorite things: sex and drugs.

He puts his hand on the back of your head, bobbing your mouth up and down on him, saliva spilling down to his balls as he makes you deepthroat him and gag on his tip.

His muscles convulse as you tighten on his sensitive tip. “Fuck, angel, your mouth is heaven,” he groans, hips bucking lightly to stroke the back of your throat.

He takes another hit holding in the smoke and pushing his cock as deep down your throat as you can take it.

You squeeze his thighs, eyes watering as you choke on his thick cock.

A glob of wetness drips from your hole, loving the feeling of his heavy cock on the back of your tongue.

Despite gagging on his length multiple times, you don't stop and instead pick up the pace, his tip hitting your tonsils over and over again.

“Hah fuck” he sighs, watching you take it deep. “Just like that, keep gagging on your daddy’s big dick” he exhales the smoke in his mouth, his high approaching while he gets high from each puff. “You like that?” He bends down slightly, his voice much softer and sweeter than the actions you’re performing between his legs.

You nod your head, mouth never leaving his dick as you continue sucking him off. “Yeah, angel? You like choking on me?”

You moan on his cock, eyes rolling in the back of your head, and to see you enjoying it as much as him, if not more, only satisfied him tenfold. “You want daddy’s cum angel? Gonna swallow me?” He whispered.

Another moan erupts from the back of your throat, the idea of tasting him making excitement rise in your body. “Yes, Daddy, give me your cum want it so bad” You pull off his cock just long enough to beg him for his release, and you’re back to sucking him, slobbering all over his cock eagerly.

“Fuck angel, take your daddy’s cum and swallow like a good little fucking girl,” he groans, releasing strongly down your throat, hot thick spurts of cum spilling on your tongue as you swallow him greedily.

You moan nonstop, savoring his taste. “Shit shit,” he whispered, his body stuttering as he cums even harder than last night.

His blunt twitches between his fingers as he emptied into your mouth, his balls tightening with every drop. “Fuckkkkkkk,” he sighs, whimpering softly, his heavy panting filling up the RV. “Oh my god,” he falls back on the mattress, completely spent.

You lick him all the way from his balls to tip, sucking him off till he goes completely soft, and even then, it’s hard for you to pull away, and you think you’re addicted to sucking his cock. He was just so perfect, and he tasted so good you’d spend all day between his legs if he’d let you.

You stand up and straddle his waist on the bed, your wet pussy hovering over his soft cock as you lean down and kiss his lips.

He hums, exhausted, still catching his breath.

You take the blunt from between his fingers before it can burn into the sheets and take another hit. “Just what I needed to start my day.” he lazily places his arm on your lower back, holding you gently.

You smiled, holding the blunt to his lips, slowly grinding down on him, but he held you still. “I can’t, angel. We gotta get ready for tonight,” he tells a white lie and flips you over on your back, laying you back in bed.

“Just a quickie,” you pout, arms wrapping around his neck.

“I can’t.” he props himself up, headed to take a shower.

“Please?” You whine, arms reaching out for him.

“I already told you I can’t,” he replied, growing frustrated within a matter of seconds. “Just do it yourself,” he says, not paying attention to you. “I’ll fuck you good after you already know that” he walks over to you, stroking your cheek. “Okay, angel, just be ready for me.”

“Okay,” you sigh disappointedly, but you knew he was busy, and you didn’t want to interfere with his work. “Can I join you?”

“Yeah, come on, Angel.” he takes your hand, leading you to the shower with him, and you both lazily wash each other's bodies, your energy on E from all your sessions with him.

You share a few kisses in between, taking turns washing each other's hair until you’re both clean. After your shower with him, you both get ready for the night, and he is off to do rehearsals.

At least that’s what he told you.

“I wanna come to rehearsals,” you hugged him, swaying him back and forth affectionately.

“I know, Angel” he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it. “But just rest, okay? We’ve been on the road a lot, and I just think it’s best for you, yeah?”

“But,” he put his finger up to your mouth to shush you.

“No, buts angel, just rest up, and I’ll be back soon enough. Save all your energy for me tonight.” he kissed your forehead gently and left without another word.

Not only did heeseung do rehearsals, but he also went to a club.

Alone.

Leaving you all by yourself for hours on end with no contact.

You: Baby, when are you coming back?

You texted him and got no answer. After an hour, you tried to get ahold of him again, but still no answer.

You decided to call Sunghoon since he’d given you his number, and luckily, he picked up, updating you on what was going on. “Hey, I was wondering if you’d give the phone to heeseung. He’s not answering,” you bit on your nail nervously.

“Heeseung? I’m not with him right now, but I’ll let him know you called,” Sunghoon answers.

“But I thought you guys had rehearsals?” You reply.

“Rehearsals? We already did that yesterday. Me and the guys went out to eat. We haven’t seen heeseung all day.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Wait, so you haven’t seen him at all either?” Sunghoon questioned.

“No, not since earlier this morning, he said he had rehearsals.”

It was silent on the line for a moment before Sunghoon spoke, and he had a bad feeling in his stomach. “Okay, I’ll call him and let you know if he answers.”

“Okay, bye, thanks, sunghoon.” You hang up, and that information does nothing to soothe your nerves cause now heeseung lied to you.

You wonder why.

Unbeknownst to anyone, he had stopped at a club in the area he was familiar with. He had connections with a lot of people in town, and he was so excited to know that the band would be touring in his hometown. The first spot he thought of was the little club he used to frequent in his high school days.

He met up with an old group he used to buy from, and the rest was history.

With a pit in your stomach, you continued to scroll on your phone to pass the time while waiting for heeseung. The guys had come home around an hour ago and headed to bed early, not thinking much of his absence, but you stayed up waiting for heeseung, and when he finally arrived, you engulfed him in a hug, happy that he was back and slightly worried about him for being out so late. “Missed me, angel?” He chuckles cockily.

“Yes, you were gone all day,” you pout.

Your nose scrunched after smelling perfume on him, and a wave of panic and jealousy came flooding in. “What’s that smell?”

“What smell?” He asks curiously.

“It’s just it smells like perfume,” you mutter, trying to keep your negative feelings at bay.

“Oh, don’t sweat it, baby. There were a lot of people there, so…” he trails off, trying to kiss you again.

“A lot of people where?” You ask.

He breathes out through his nose, eyes flicking back and forth to quickly come up with another lie. “Uhh, at rehearsals.”

“But I called Sunghoon, and he said you had rehearsed yesterday,” You push for answers.

“Oh yeah, the band did, but I have different rehearsals for vocals.” The way the lies fall from his lips doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

You nodded your head in understanding, but you still didn’t feel quite right. You were probably just overthinking things. “You must be tired.” You caressed his shoulders gently.

“Not too tired for you, told you I’d fuck you good didn’t I angel?” He smirks, backing you toward the bed.

“You did,” you smile, hands slipping into his black leather jacket and slipping it off his wide shoulders, leaving him in his blue jeans and a white tank top.

“So lay back for me, Angel. Close your eyes and enjoy it.” he lays you flat on the bed, dropping down to his knees, hands slowly spreading your legs open. “I missed your pussy so fucking much,” he whispers, peppering soft kisses along your thighs, serving as an appetizer before the main course. “Just wanna be inside you all day,” he groans like the fact he can’t be hurt him. “Need to taste you all the time.”

Your eyes flutter shut, enjoying his soft kisses just like he told you to, your breath hitches as he rolls up your skirt, revealing your panties, the white and lavender pair he bought for you when he took you to the mall.

His cock twitches involuntarily, and he presses his face against your crotch, inhaling the alluring scent of your arousal. “Oh fuck” he whispers, palming over his bulge, lightly impatient to feel your tightness around him.

He places gentle eager kisses over your clothed pussy nipping at your clit through the fabric. “Hee-“

His eyes fall shut, hands kneading your thighs as he sticks out his tongue, teasing you through the material, dampening it with his saliva.

You grip the sheets, biting on your lip. You feel his cold fingers slip your panties to the side, his warm breath replacing the coolness of his fingers.

His lips press softly against your core. Your body shudders in sensitivity, his warm lips kissing your vulva.

Sticking out his tongue, he flicks your engorged bud, and you whimper, brows creasing from the feeling of his tongue.

He laps at your hole, gathering your sweet slick on his tongue and savoring your taste. “Hmm, tastes like heaven,” he hums against your heat, tongue licking up and down.

He slides his left hand up your thigh, finger prodding at your hole. He swiped his finger along your opening, collecting your wetness on his finger and slipping it inside.

You clenched down on his finger immediately, and he started pumping it in and out, his thick finger working you open.

Your hands left the sheets to grip his black hair, tugging it lightly.

He groans from the slight sting, adding another finger just to feel you grip his hair tighter, pleasure mixing with the pain, a feeling he was used to.

He stretched your walls open with the thickness of his fingers fucking into your hole and licking your clit.

“Hee, I-“ he fastens the pace of his tongue, his fingers steadily moving into you, curling up and rubbing your sweet spot.

Your body shook, thighs trembling until you felt it, but it was more intense than before. Your mouth parted, eyes squeezing shut as you gave in, focusing on the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive clit and his thick fingers fucking your hole.

For the first time, you squirted, and it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You couldn’t worry about the wetness soaking him, too lost in pleasure, gripping his hair as pleasure surged through you so intensely, only a faint ringing in your ears as you lay limp on the bed panting.

“Oh fuckkkkk,” you whine, back arching off the bed as you grind on his fingers, hips rolling in a circle, getting the absolute most of your orgasm.

“Just like that, squirt on your Daddy’s face,” he says, voice filled with pure delight as he drinks from you, swallowing it down like he’d die of thirst if he didn’t catch every last drop. “Love this fucking pussy so damn much,” he groans, eyes rolling back in his head, tongue tirelessly licking at your hole, begging for more.

He slowly caressed your walls, his fingers slipping out along with more of your wetness.

He latched his mouth onto your hole, sucking out everything your body had to give him.

Finally pulling away, he nudged your clit with the tip of his nose, inhaling you one last time.

He leans back on his knees, admiring your blissed-out state with a smirk on his face.

You’re heaving eyes barely open, soft pants falling from your bitten lips. You watch as he stands between your legs, the bulge in his jeans evident, and even though you have already come, your walls clamp down around nothing, begging to be filled by him.

He rubs over the thick bulge in his pants, biting on his lip. “Open up for Daddy.” he pulls his zipper down, opening the button on his jeans while you spread your legs wider. “That’s my angel,” he breathes out, lowering his jeans around his waist, then his boxers unveiling his cock.

You’ve seen him many times before, but it only got better with time, his pretty cock leaking precum, his full balls waiting to be emptied. The sight alone had your heart racing and your pussy dripping.

He placed his hands on your inner thighs, stroking the soft flesh. “Such a pretty pussy” he positioned his shaft between your swollen pussy lips, gliding it back and forth, covering his dick in your arousal.

You whimper softly, the sensitivity almost too much for you to handle, but your body welcomes him and craves him like you were meant to be pleasured by his cock till you couldn’t take it anymore.

He rolls his hips, his tip catching on your clit just right. “F-fuck” he smirks, pursing his lips, watching his dick getting drenched in copious amounts of your leak.

“Look at it, baby” he motions his head between your legs, and you lift your head, eyeing his girthy cock rubbing your pussy.

Your eyes grow lidded, filled with arousal, as you spot the dot of precum on his tip. “So big,” you whimper.

“Yeah? Daddy’s big?” You nodded your head, eyes focused on his cock. “You like that, huh?”

“Yes,” you swallowed dryly. “Want you to fuck me with your big cock, Daddy, please” You look at him in the eyes, hips bucking up in need of his cock.

“It’s hard not to fuck you when you talk to me like that.”He withdrew his hips, aligning himself with your hole, easily pushing inside you, burying his length to the depths of your pussy with one thrust.

Your mouth parted in a silent moan, eyes going back to your head as your walls clenched around him. “Maybe I’ll talk to you like that more often,” you say breathlessly.

“You’re so naughty, angel.” He grins. “That feel good? Like to be fucked by a big cock?” He kneads your thighs, creating a steady rhythm and releasing that ache between your legs.

“Yes, Daddy” You hold the backs of your thighs, spreading even wider, head falling back against the mattress as he fucks into your little hole.

“Angel,” he breathes out through his nose, clenching his jaw as he speeds up the pace till your breasts are sloshing with each strong thrust.

“Yes, Daddy,” you mewl walls gushing more wetness around his shaft.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed, knees slightly bent as he fucks into you, his thrusts animalistic, his heavy balls slapping your ass with each stroke.

He pushed his tank top up, tucking it under his chin, watching your pussy creaming his dick. “Fuck, angel, that’s it. Get daddy’s dick nice and creamy” On cue, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out fill your ears, the sound so sinful yet pleasurable. “Keep creaming for me, Angel”

He ruts into you like a rabbit in heat, his thrusts messy, rushed, and impatient for a release. “You’re so fucking tight. You feel so good on my dick,” he groans, going even faster till you see stars, the white ring coating his cock, turning him on even more.

“Fuck yessss daddddy,” you whine, voice vibrating in your throat from each harsh slam of his hips.

“Yeah, daddy’s fucking you good, huh? Just like I promised.” he bit his lip, concentrating on hitting your spot with his tip, and he knew he found it when you let out the most feral moan he’d ever heard.

“Yes, you’re fucking me so good, love your cock so much, hee,” you squeak, your lower half feeling numb from the constant rubbing of his cock against your walls you.

“So warm.” Your scorching walls brought him so much pleasure, so tight and wet around him, he couldn’t take it anymore. His head was spinning as droplets of sweat wet his mattress.

His hand was between your legs in seconds, using his thumb to circle your clit. “Cum on Daddy’s big cock since you love it so much.”

“Yes, yes, yes” You held onto his hips for support losing yourself to the feeling of his cock drilling into you, another orgasm being coaxed from your body.

Your arousal stained his sheets, splatters flying against his abdomen as he fucked you through it. “Yeah…” he breathes out, rubbing your thighs, and he slows his pace when he notices he’s without a condom. “Fuck angel, daddy’s gotta pull out.”

Before you can comprehend, he’s already pulled out, jerking his cock in front of you.

Despite still being out of it, you sat up, replacing his hand with your own. “Ohh fuck fuck” he holds your wrist to ground himself, his length throbbing as you stroke him off, getting him closer and closer the second your lips wrap around the bulbous head of his cock, his body surrendered, shuddering as his balls tensed, and he releases his creamy cum inside your mouth. “Angel…..” he gasps softly, body hunched forward, abs tensing as you suck him dry with a pleased hum.

You moan around his cock, taking it far in the back of your throat, your tastes still lingering on his shaft as you swallow.

“Shit angel, yeah, swallow me just like fucking that” he bucks his hips slightly, his tip touching the back of your throat as he savors the feeling of releasing on your sweet tongue, and he can’t understand how every hole made him cum so hard, your body was so fucking perfect for him, made just pleasuring his dick.

You released him from your mouth, licking around his base for good measure.

With a pleasured sigh, he lays next to you on the bed, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath.

Neither of you speaks, but when he does, his first words are. “Wanna share a blunt with me?”

That sounded like the best idea after getting your brains absolutely fucked out.

-

It’s been a few months since you’ve been on tour with the band. It was all fun. You’d seen sights you never thought you would, you tried all types of food, and honestly, it was everything you could have ever dreamed of. You and Heeseung were still together, of course, but he’s yet to put a label on it for now. He said he had something planned for you after the tour, and you trusted him and didn’t bring up the topic anymore. In the meantime, you got closer to the guys, and they were accustomed to your presence, treating you as if you were one of them, which you appreciate.

You even smoked with them a few times on occasions like right now, you were all in the living room area when heeseung made an appearance from his room where he’d just woken up.

Heeseung walked to the living room, eyes scanning you, then his members, and then Jake, who was a little too close to you for his comfort, but he didn’t say anything. “I’m gonna head out for a quick walk and grab a bite to eat,” heeseung announced, not giving anyone time to respond other than a quick bye and Jake shouting at him to get Taco Bell on his way back.

You were laid up on the couch next to Sunghoon, Jake, and Jay, slouching on the little beanbags in the corner while you all played video games and drank.

Heeseung lied like he always did. He wasn’t going to walk or eat. He was gonna meet up with a dealer that was in the area the girl he bought from when he said he had “rehearsals,” the one's perfume you smelled. He was connected through a friend of a friend. Their business ran across the whole city, so it wasn’t hard for him to find what he needed.

And the guys were none the wiser.

Cause they put their trust in him.

Stupid, stupid move.

He rushed out so quickly, barely muttering a bye cause he needed his fix now. He knew they had the good stuff and couldn’t wait much longer to get some. They had it all: weed, pills, cocaine, everything he needed for a real good high.

And he bought it all using the money he made from tour to feed his secret addiction when it should have been being saved for band equipment for a new tour bus, anything but a drug that did nothing but alter his mood.

He was selfish to use money that also belonged to his bandmates, but he wasn’t a man of integrity, so he didn’t care about anything other than funding his habit at the expense of others.

But he couldn’t think rationally. How could he when his mind was distorted and filled with thoughts of when he could get his hands on the next blunt or a pack of pills?

He was so far gone from reality he was practically programmed at this point. It was like clockwork blunt in the morning, hard drugs by evening, another blunt at night, and a few drinks to cap it off.

All in the secrecy of his room, free from judgment.

That was his life, and he wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.

He knew it was wrong, but why did it feel so right? Why did he feel better high than sober if it was so wrong?

Besides, he wasn’t harming anyone. What they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

Which is the reason heeseung nipped Sunghoon in the bud before he could tell you about his past.

He knew you wouldn’t want anything to do with him. If you knew what he got into, you’re far too innocent to know any better, and he wasn’t about to tell you either. If you were naive enough to believe everything he was telling you, then so be it.

But that was no one else business besides his and yours.

It was midnight when he came back. You and the guys were still up, and when he arrived, you tried to greet him, but he snuck off to his room, saying he didn’t feel well after eating.

Another lie.

“Hey, wheres my taco bell?” Jake sulks, only getting a door slam in response.

You pouted from heeseung’s recent absence but respected his wishes; meanwhile, his bandmates assured you he’d be fine. “He’s like that sometimes,” Sunghoon tells you, but the distance he’s been putting between you still left an uneasy feeling in your gut.

You remember the first time he kinda just left you high and dry. It was a few months ago, the day he had “rehearsals.” You never really trusted him fully after that because that’s the day he lied to you and the first day he turned down sex with you, and that’s when you felt the shift. It didn’t happen every day, maybe once a week, but he seemed really fidgety while rushing out of the RV tonight as well as times in the past, and every time you brought it up, he’d always just say he was tired, and again, you left it alone not wanting to disturb him.

But for the most part, he seemed to be okay, so you didn’t worry too much. You and the guys continued the board game you were playing together, but hours later, there was still no sight of heeseung. You thought he’d join later, but you figured he must have really not been feeling well when he didn’t come out of his room for hours. Usually, he would have made an appearance by now, but nothing.

Heeseung sat in his room, clueless of your worries, his music playing softly on his speaker, a blunt in his hand, and a white line on his desk waiting to be snorted.

He sat back, staring at the line, just reminiscing about his past, the thoughts causing tears to well in his eyes, but he quickly sucked it up and quit crying.

It was pointless. It’s not like anyone was going to comfort him anyway.

Leaning forward, he uses an old debit card, making a perfect white line, pushing down on one side of his nose and inhaling deeply before relaxing against his bed, waiting for the pain to wash away.

An escape from reality, that’s all he’s ever wanted, and drugs were a gateway to his forbidden paradise.

While losing himself to the feeling, he softly mumbles the lyrics to the song playing. “There’s no rainbows, just white lines” he smiles softly, the lyrics oh so fitting for his life.

Never once did he feel an ounce of shame or guilt while consuming the substances he swore to the guys he’d never take again.

All his life, he’s been trying trying so hard to be a person worthy of love, someone who deserved to be loved cause his parents never did.

They only pushed him into a career that he didn’t favor, scolded him for getting a grade too low, and punished him for his hobbies and passions physically and emotionally.

Most days, he felt sadness, hurt, or anger because he never felt good enough for them. It’s like every move he made was a disgrace, and throughout the years, it would only prove to be even more difficult because he was always bullied for singing and not playing football. The guys at his school were also ruthless.

In high school, it got really bad because not only was he bullied for being a nerd, but that’s also when he got heartbroken by his first love, and what made it ten times worse was it wasn’t just a breakup, no.

She cheated on him with the guy who bullied him the most, and that’s why it hurt so bad. The betrayal was utterly heartbreaking. Being cheated on wasn’t even the worst part. It was the fact she deliberately did it to him just to play with his feelings. It was all a huge prank, and while he was giving it his all to make his first and only relationship work, she was laughing and scheming behind his back.

He was used to it from his parents, but when his own girlfriend did it too, that was a new type of sadness that he hadn’t experienced before, and that’s when he realized it wasn’t just his parents that could cut him so deeply but lovers too.

Fast forward to college, and he finally moved out of his parent's place or, more less, got kicked out cause he didn’t take up med school. They practically disowned him. They didn’t even speak to him for years. Hell, they talked to the mailman more than him.

In college is where he really turned into an unrecognizable monster. That’s where his whole personality was formed. That’s when he got into countless drugs that nearly ended his life and also when he decided that after his first relationship failed, he wasn’t going to try anymore. At that point, that’s when the girls came in.

Countless girls.

Ones he couldn’t even name if he thought hard about it. He didn’t even know their faces.

He was high or drunk for more than half of them, but who cares? He didn’t have feelings for them, nor did they for him, so it was a win-win.

That’s another thing: people only made friends with him because of his looks. That’s what made him popular with women in school, but even then, it wasn’t about him or his personality or his character. It was something fleeting, shallow and vein.

After a while, he just accepted the fact that he was unlikeable, No friends, no parents who loved him, and no girlfriend that could only mean one thing.

Finally, after he graduated…. Shocking, he knows, but despite all the bullshit, he was quite smart. He just never used his knowledge for much.

He did his own thing, making money at a fast food chain to fund his rent, plus his addiction. In his free time, he did go to small concerts in his area, and that’s when he started taking his path in music seriously. Well, he always took it seriously but never really pursued it cause his parents didn’t like it, but it doesn’t much matter now cause his parents were done with him.

One night at an old bar, he found Jay Jake and Sunghoon, independent artists trying to make their come up their music style matched his taste. They had just lost their vocalist, who decided to join another band, so he thought it was perfect.

Luckily, he was able to catch up with them after their performance. They drank and smoked in the lounge while talking about musicians they liked as the conversation progressed, and their ideas seemed to align. He let them hear some of his music, and that’s how the band was formed.

Just like that.

In one night.

For the first time, he had friends.

Though he was finally able to live his passion, the boy he used to be, the one with big hopes and dreams, he was long gone, buried under drugs and money.

But surprisingly, despite his addiction, he still worked well, and the band turned out to be quite successful, and even he was impressed with himself.

Because deep down, he still feels those harsh words of his parents telling him that he’ll never amount to anything if he pursued music, but yet here he is touring the world with his bandmates and a girl too stupid and naive to know he’s useless.

But having friends and a girl made him feel somewhat normal for once, a feeling he never got to learn cause by age ten, his life was already over before it even started.

He almost wants to call his parents to shove it in their faces that he’s become successful, but what would be the point? They wouldn’t care, and like they were always so good at, he’s sure they would find every excuse and avenue to beat down and degrade his accomplishments.

That was just his parents; besides, they were probably off celebrating his brother for his accomplishments. He rolls his eyes at the thought, the resentment he felt towards his brother was purely because of his parents constantly comparing the two. His brother never really did anything wrong, but the praise he received for achieving his goals vs the demeaning insults his parents would throw at him was enraging.

Which led heeseung to distance himself from the whole family. And it’s not like his brother ever tried to reach out to him either, never stood up for him, so who the fuck cares anymore?

His life was shit he knew that much and he just accepted it. He had to, but not without a little drug holding his hand in this walk of life and keeping him sane along the way.

He taps his foot along to the beat, drifting off into a space where no one existed, just the sound of the music and the serene feeling running through his veins.

It felt as though this was where he belonged, alone with his music, free from letting down others and just enjoying life one high at a time.

Nothing got him feeling this type of high. In a long time, the mix of weed and cocaine had always been his favorite. It just made him feel so calm.

And he needed calmness in the middle of the chaos that racked his brain on the daily.

He does one line two lines through each nostril, and he feels like he’s floating, so tempted to keep going see how far he can take it, and maybe if he’s lucky, he’d overdo-

A loud banging makes him jump, his once relaxed mood gone as he scrambles to hide all the evidence of the substances he’d abused.

Oh.

One thing that wasn’t mentioned.

He’s almost overdosed multiple times after shows. He’d just go silent and then lock himself in his room for long periods of time.

Which wasn’t too unusual for the guys. They just assumed he was tired and needed a reset.

It was only one time he didn’t come out for days. Luckily, there were no shows coming up cause he hadn’t been to rehearsals or anything, just in his bed all day.

When they found him, they had to bust open the door cause he wasn’t answering. The sight made their stomachs drop, catching him in a state they’d never seen him in before.

Secluded and cut off from everything, pupils were blown and unmoving, almost like he was somewhere else, as he stared off into the distance, surrounded by weed smoke.

The fear running through their veins was palpable. They shook him over and over, and all he did was smile lazily at them high out of his mind.

It was only a minute before they took action and rushed him into the hospital. He was fine, more than fine, but they ruined it, pulling him from his peace.

Everyone was affected by the worrying state they had found him in, but once they realized what had happened, sunghoon definitely took it the hardest. Heeseung was his role model for reasons he hadn’t told anyone, but heeseung let him in on a few things from his past. Though heeseung was still very closed off, he did open up to the guys on occasion, but Sunghoon was the one he confided in the most. Sunghoon never knew it was bad enough for heeseung to want to end his life, and somewhere he felt guilty for not being a good enough friend for heeseung to want to stay alive.

That’s why it hit him harder. He felt guilty cause he should have been able to help heeseung since he knew the most about him, and he always blamed himself for that day at the hospital and all the times that came after.

Cause there were many times after.

They all did weed, sometimes even heavy drugs on occasion, but heeseung was on another level, and he used behind their backs.

Heavily.

And that’s what they all found out together at the hospital.

They had a deep, long talk, and heeseung swore he was done after seeing his bandmates worried hurt by his actions, but then that little devil in the back of his brain told him. “No, they don’t care about you. They’re using you 'cause they need a singer,” and after that, he used and used and continues to use.

Leading up to this moment. “Yo heeseung!“ sunghoon pounded on the door while heeseung quickly slid everything under the bed, everything but one crucial piece of evidence.

“What?” He yanked the door open, answering Sunghoon agitatedly.

“What? You’ve been in here for hours?” Sunghoon pointed out the obvious, and he had a feeling something was off. The last time heeseung had been locked in his room this long, nothing good came out of it.

“So?” Heeseung responded defensively, sniffling discretely and rubbing at his nose, and that’s when Sunghoon noticed.

A look of anger washed away his once composed-looking features, and he barged into the room, shoving heeseung out of the way before he could protest. “What the fuck are you doing?!” He shouts.

Sunghoon rummaged throughout his room, easily finding his worrisome stash and the old card on the table covered in white, along with needles and countless bottles of liquor.

“Get the hell out and stop touching my stuff!” Heeseung shouted.

“No! What the fuck are you doing?” Sunghoon holds the bag of white, pushing it in heeseung’s face.

“It’s none of your business.” heeseung tried to yank the bag away to no avail.

“No!” Was all Sunghoon said before taking everything from the stash.

“I paid good money for that, give it back.” heeseung’s eyes went wide. He looked as if he was almost going crazy.

The look in his eyes could only be described with one word.

Addict.

Once you and the others heard the commotion, you all came running to heeseung’s room.

“What’s going on?” Jake’s voice faded into the background, a look of disappointment on his face along with Jay as soon as they discovered the scene.

Heeseung lowered his head in shame after being caught, quietly taking the bag back sunghoons hands.

“Tell them heeseung, tell them all and your little girlfriend. Oh wait, I forgot she’s not even your girlfriend 'cause you can’t even commit to her, let alone us, only this bullshit” he flicked the debit card in heeseung’s face making him flinch.

Your brows furrow in confusion, wondering what is even going on, and heeseung never even looked at you to explain, nor did the guys.

The silence takes over. The only thing that can be heard is sunghoons heavy breathing. “I…” heeseung speaks, and before he can even get a word out, sunghoon punches him right against his jaw, causing him to stumble back, the rage overtaking him. The guys try to help get him off, but it’s too late. Sunghoon lands at least three more blows before they can pull him off.

But Heeseung retaliated, throwing a few of his own until he’s held back, both of them fuming with anger, struggling to fight while you just sit there confused and scared, screaming for them to please stop.

“No sunghoon, don’t hurt him!” You cried out at the sight of heeseung’s face.

“Get the fuck off of me,” heeseung shouts breaking free of jays hold. “Get out, all of you!”

“Hee-“ you begin, but his loud voice quickly cuts you off.

“You too, you useless fucking bitch. Get the fuck out!” He yells, and everyone just sits back, staring at him in shock, your soft cries now filling the room. “What? You never seen a guy lose his fucking mind before?” He laughs sadistically. “Well, now you fucking have, shows over, and so is the band and you,” he points to you. “He tried warning you, but you just didn’t listen, not to say it matters. You’re just like the rest of the whores I’ve fucked, a useless, desperate hole waiting to be filled, too busy sucking dick to notice I don’t have shit to give you.”

You’re shocked by his words, and you sob, unable to control the tears falling, and Sunghoon immediately holds you, knowing just how you feel. He’s been hurt by heeseung more times than he can count.

Heeseung’s jaw tenses at the sight. “What? Gonna let him and the others fuck you now too? Just so you know, there’s not a hole on her body I haven’t fucked”

Sunghoon looked at him in pure disgust, holding your trembling body in his arms, and he scoffed. “You’re pathetic, and your parents were right. You are never going to amount to anything. You’ll only ever be a useless addict.”

Sunghoon spat, voice laced with venom. He hit him where it hurts without holding back. He was the only one heeseung had told about his past with his parents, and he used that as ammo to hurt heeseung as much as he was hurting him and everyone else right now.

The words silenced heeseung. Jake and Jay escort the two out of his room, and that’s when heeseung sits by himself, all alone with nothing but his thoughts and the three bruises on his cheek that were throbbing in pain.

“What do we do now?” Jake mumbles even though no one is quite in the state to talk.

“We leave. I’m not wasting one more minute on this asshole, not after this,” sunghoons voice shook with anger and sadness, trying to keep his emotions at bay, but his bloodshot eyes told the story of how he was feeling.

Sunghoon finally parts from you, going to pack all his things and try to clear his head just a little bit, not believing the fact that heeseung had broken everyone’s trust again.

The other members follow along. They heard him, too. The band was over, so there wasn’t much left to say. Heeseung had put them through a lot over the years, and everyone decided to call it quits tonight cause none of them could watch their friend going down a path that could only lead to destruction and maybe even death.

“You coming, y/n?” Sunghoon offers, but you lightly shake your head. You needed answers from heeseung himself, not his bandmates.

Whatever happened, you needed to know the truth straight from the source cause right now, you were not only in shock but left completely in the dark.

“What? This is what he does. He brings people in his life that care, and then he fucks them over. Can’t you see he doesn’t give a shit about you?” Sunghoon said, frustrated it wasn’t his battle to fight, but he sure as hell felt like it because he didn’t want to see another person get treated the same way he did by heeseung. “Suit yourself,” he scoffed after you didn’t budge at all at his offer.

It’s late in the morning, and the guys are long gone. When you finally gather your thoughts and open heeseung’s door, he was still just there lying on his bed all by himself.

“Hee?” You call out to him, and he pops up surprised.

“You’re still here?” He asked, knowing the guys had already left, and there was a small glint in his eyes when he saw you.

“I couldn’t leave without hearing the truth from you not them,” you say quietly.

“Y/n I, there’s a lot.” he was about to open up to you, but he quickly stopped himself. You’re just like the rest he told himself. No one truly cares about him. You’re only using him for his body the same way he used you. There was no real connection between you two at all. “But I just want you, okay? The past is the past.”

“You mean that? Everything they said was…”

“Shh shh, Angel, come here.” You walked toward him on the bed and lay down next to him. “I didn’t mean it. I was just frustrated.”

“Well then maybe you could explain that to them, and they’d come back,” you say, feeling hopeful cause you saw the bond they all had, and it wasn’t something you thought should be let go after one fight, but there was so much you didn’t know, so much you’d never know, at least not from heeseung’s mouth.

“Nah, Angel, they won’t get me the way you do,” he says it to flatter you to mask the person he really is, and you fall for it like all his other lies.

His hand slinks down to your waist and lower to your butt. “It’s been too long since my dick was in you, angel girl. Gonna let Daddy fuck this pretty pussy? Need it so bad, been so stressed lately, and I know the moment I’m in you, all that will go away” he cups your pussy, and you whine, nodding against his chest.

“Yes, Daddy, please, I missed your cock, missed you,” you mewl softly.

“Go ahead, Angel, show me how much you missed it.”

You gave yourself to him every hole free for him to use, and use he did.

First, he fucked your throat with his hard cock, then your pussy, and after he took your ass in doggy, filling up the puckered rim with hot cum your holes were dripping his white semen by the time you were done, and you felt so full so warm cuddling, up to him after and sharing his last blunt.

-

Heeseung still went on to perform by himself, the music being played in the background instead of live, and he lied to his fans, saying his bandmates had an emergency, so they couldn’t attend the tour. Meanwhile, he was doing everything it took to stay afloat, using the proceeds to feed his drug addiction.

He swam in it, no longer trying to hide it from anyone. Now that the guys were gone, it was a lot easier. He even did it right in front of you, assuring you it helped him with stage fright lying through his teeth. He did show after show, line after line, coming back to the RV, giving you round after round. The only thing that took the pain away was the pleasure of your body and the drugs that took him far away.

It was just like Sunghoon said. All he did was perform fuck and smoke.

He tried to warn you, but your desire for heeseung clouded all his negative habits up until recently, and your eyes were finally starting to open and see clearly for what this was.

You noticed he was different but didn’t think much of it. After all, his band had just split up, but it was when he started looking pale and really thin that’s when you voiced your concern for him.

“So lucky I got you to come on tour with me,” he muttered, kissing your shoulder softly. “Love having you with me and being inside you every day.”

You giggle, taking his compliment, but there’s something more you need to talk about before you get carried away in his soft touches and sweet words. “Hee?” You ask.

“Yes, angel?” He replies, touching you softly under the sheets.

“I-i know you said it helps, but maybe you should slow down a bit. You’re starting to loo”

He pushes you off him, automatically taking offense. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me” he sits up immediately and gets out of bed.

“I’m not, I’m jus-“

“Well, whatever it is that you feel, don’t. I’m good. Stop acting like you’re my girlfriend. We fuck, and that’s it” he got up going to the shower, where he reached into the cabinet, taking two lines to get his day started, not stopping for one second to consider your words or feelings.

What would you know? You’re just a pathetic little fan girl obsessed with his dick.

After his shower, he left you alone like he had been doing a lot these days. It became a habit after the guys left. When he came back, it was late again, and of course, he was out buying more drugs, but you didn’t know that, nor did you think about it. The only thing on your mind was guilt for making him upset in the morning and making him leave. You just wanted to apologize to him and tell him you’re sorry about earlier.

When he got back to the RV, you were already sleeping peacefully, looking so tempting in his drunken state you had passed out while waiting for him to come back.

“Where were you?” You stirred when you heard him arrive.

“Just went out for a walk, Angel, like always.” You nod, too tired to argue. You know he’s lying, but he won’t tell you the truth, so what’s the point anymore? He cuddles up to you in nothing but his boxers, holding you close. “So warm, angel Daddy missed you,” he nibbled on your ear, his semi-hard cock grinding on your ass like it wasn’t three in the morning.

“Mmh,” you pushed back against him, his cock flush against you. “Daddy, It’s late,” you whine softly, but your hips say otherwise.

“I know, Angel, but I missed you so much. Just lay here and let Daddy get it in, yeah?” He pulled your shorts down and pushed your underwear to the side, his dick rubbing back and forth between your pussy lips. “Please?”

“Yes,” you sighed, your eyes closed, letting him use your body. He felt too good to resist. You wanted to comfort him, and since he wasn’t confiding in you, you allowed him to use your body as his comfort, which always seemed to put him in a good mood.

“Mmm, already so wet,” he whispers, hot breath fanning your ear as he nibbles on your lobe.

“I’m always so wet for you,” you moaned, arching your back further into him, molding perfectly against his body.

“Angel…” he nuzzled his face against your hair, inhaling your scent. “You feel so good on me.”

“Please just put your cock in me,” you whined, feeling impatient. You didn’t need any prep. You had already taken him so many times your body was ready and well-adjusted for him to slip it in.

“Fuck angel, you beg for it like I didn’t just fuck this pussy good last night” he wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he pushed his flushed pink tip inside your wet hole. He gave you slow, deep strokes, his thick cock kissing every inch of your walls..

“Never want you to pull out. Can’t go a second without you in me, Daddy.” Your walls clenched so hard, putting emphasis on your words.

You moaned despite his tight grip on your neck, which only heightened the pleasure. “Yeah, you’d like that?” he felt your walls sucking him in, and he applied more pressure to your neck. Your eyes rolled back, tongue stuck out as he used your hole. “Fuck, that’s a good little bitch. Keep squeezing this dick like the whore you are,” he whispered filthy words into your ears while his thick cock fucked into you without abandon. “I’ll stay in this pussy forever if that’s what my angel wants.”

He kept pounding into you deeply while rubbing your clit. “I love this pussy so much,” he grunts in your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin.

“Daddy, yes!” You choke out, loving how deep he feels on this angle. “Fuck it feels so good,” you slur.

“Yeah, nasty little girl,” he moans.

“Your girl,” he pauses for a moment, his strokes still deep, but his expression falters at your words, but he quickly shakes it off, continuing to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, Daddy love your cock so much. You’re so deep in my pussy”

His hips stutter, your words making him lose his damn mind. The way you talk him through was doing something to him. It always did. “I know you do, can feel you sucking me in,” he kisses your neck, that indescribable feeling building inside him alarmingly quick. “I’m g-gonna cum. Take it, Angel, take it deep in that pretty little hole,” he moans, not concerned that he’s not wearing a condom. All he wanted was to finally finish in your pretty wet hole and the alcohol in his system only aided that want.

“Yes, yes, yes, feels s-so good” Your pussy soon swallows up his creamy load as his warmth greets your insides, and that’s when you realize he’s not wearing a condom, but you don’t care either, too lost in the feeling of finally being stuffed with his warm cum.

He massages your clit, and the moment he does, your mind goes fuzzy cumming from the intensity, feeling your walls clenching, begging for every last drop as he pulsates inside you, cum seeping from his sensitive tip till he’s emptied himself inside your throbbing heat.

“Angel,” he moans with each slow stroke in and out, caressing your wet cunt up and down. It feels so good with out a condom, so much warmer and tighter, after cumming around his cock. It’s reckless, he knows, but he can’t go back to condoms, not after feeling you so close and raw like this.

After you both came together, he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close and granting your wish as he stayed inside, cock still buried to the hilt in your pussy, as you both passed out for the night.

-

It was morning when you woke up. The sun was shining through the curtains as you rubbed Heeseung’s chest softly, and your gentle touch woke him up. “Hi, angel,” he greets like usual, but there’s something different. He looks down at you, smiling, the look in your eyes so soft he gets lost in it. He finds himself softly stroking your cheek, and you look up at him, smiling back at him like he held the moon and the stars in his eyes.

That’s when he saw it. He felt it, too. He was so riddled with guilt, and this was already too far, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t hurt anyone else. Deep down, he knew he was fucked, he couldn't deny it anymore and he couldn’t drag someone else into his life, especially after his bandmates abandoned him for the same exact reason.

He quickly pulled away from you before he fell too deep, leaving you confused. “Can you just fucking stop? I’m not your boyfriend. Stop treating me like I am.” he got up abruptly, running his fingers frustratedly through his hair. “All this clingy shit,” he mutters, his inner turmoil getting the best of him.

“Hee?” You ask, confused, sitting up on the bed and wondering what happened to the once peaceful moment.

“And don’t call me that anymore.” he pulled tightly at the roots of his hair, feeling himself quickly losing it. “Just get out. I can’t have this.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be. We don’t have to cuddle, it’s just we always do in the morning and I thought you liked it” you say disappointedly. He hates this and hates the way you’re trying to understand him when there’s nothing to understand other than the fact that he was full of shit and nothing but a complete fucking loser.

“No, besides tours over anyway. I don’t need you anymore,” he spoke hoarsely, and for the first time in a long time, he could feel, and it didn’t feel good. His chest felt tight, and it hurt to see you like this. It always hurt when he saw the guys in the same position as you right now, but he got used to letting them down. As fucked up as that sounds, but with you, this was all new territory for him, and it was scary to feel things that he thought didn’t exist inside him after years.

It takes a moment for his words to register. “W-what do you mean need?”

“Are you that fucking stupid? I used you to fuck 'cause you were easy. You gave it up for free, and you sucked dick good, that’s all. I care nothing about you, nor do I care what you think of me. Why do you think I never made it official? Were you just that dumb and obsessed that you couldn’t see?” He chuckles, driving the dagger of words straight into your heart.

You sat there hurt, tears in your eyes, and you wished you had of listened to Sunghoon, but you wanted to give heeseung a chance to prove to you he wasn’t what his friends said he’d be, but he failed you too, just like he failed everyone else. “So those words weren’t just in the moment,” you muttered sadly. “Well fuck you, Lee heeseung, you’re a piece of shit. I tried to fight for you, but apparently, all I am to you is a hole to be filled. I’m glad the band split up. They deserved better than you, and so do I.”

Your words stung bad, real bad, but he didn’t care. This was dead and over anyway. This chapter of his life was coming to a close finally.

“Should have listened to Sunghoon,” you mumbled, getting out of bed and grabbing all your belongings, purposefully leaving behind everything that he’d bought you.

“What the fuck did he tell you?” He says angrily, hating the fact you were taking someone else’s side over his, especially sunghoons.

“Just that you’re a piece of shit and an asshole. I wish I had of fucked him instead” You got dressed and stormed out, dialing up Jake. Luckily, they were still in the area, and you’re glad you kept contact with them cause you had no idea what to fucking do right now.

Heeseung heard the door slam, and he sat down on his bed. Now, it was done; he was alone, and no one had to suffer his stupidity. It was bittersweet, but he was glad no one was suffering at his hands anymore, and if breaking that cycle meant being alone, he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

He finally let his demons win, and now he was left alone with his decision. As much as he hates to admit this, his parents were right. He never amounted to shit.

Sunghoon was right. You were right. Hell, everybody was right except for him.

Feeling himself spiral, he reached under his bed, grabbing a bottle of liquor to help calm himself down.

He took deep breaths in and out, trying to ground himself, but his head hurt so bad, and his heart hurt even more.

He needed something stronger, something that would take effect now.

He turned to the one thing that would never leave him no matter what he did: never judge him for who he is, never be disappointed in him.

Drugs.

-

Days, weeks, months, years.

Heeseung didn’t know how much time had passed as he laid in bed day in and day out.

All he knows is that his favorite song from his old band was playing on his speakers, and he was about to get high for the countless time.

He reached into his nightstand and grabbed a bag of pills. He stared at them for a moment and then dumped them out into his palm. He took a deep breath, throwing his head back and popping them all in his mouth, downing them with the bottle of liquor on his side desk.

Snuggling up to your pillow, he inhaled your scent, your faint presence still lingering, and he smiled to himself a gentle, genuine smile for the first time in a long time. “My angel,” he closed his eyes, getting lost in your familiar aroma.

He never showed it, never dared to tell anyone, but for the first time, he actually felt happy being on tour with you.

Just the little things about you made him smile, like that one morning when you stayed in bed all day feeding each other fruit, and he noticed you had a little habit of picking out all the little seeds, even the ones you could eat.

He found you endearing and even started picking out the seeds for you and feeding you.

Or when you guys would all game together, and the guys would tease him for giving you items and gold, always being the healer so he could help you win.

Some of his favorite moments were when you guys would all just sit and talk, brainstorming ideas for new songs while eating together.

What he liked most was just being surrounded by people he loved.

He laid on his back, letting out a deep, relieved sigh cause this would all be over soon. The pain would feel like nothing.

He noticed your little plushie sitting off in the corner of the room. He bought it for you when he first took you to the mall just a few days after you met.

He smiled and sat up, walking to the corner to grab it, and saw the rest of the things he bought you, too, sitting in a pile. His heart clenched at the sight, knowing you didn’t even take anything that would be a reminder of him with you, but it'd be better for you to forget him anyway.

He sat back on his bed, squeezing the plush a few times before tucking it under his arm and opening his phone to draft up texts for you and his bandmates. You probably all blocked him and didn’t care about him anymore anyway, but he needed to do this for himself, at least to finally get every heavy burden off his aching chest.

To Jake

“Hey, sorry about the last time you saw me, and I’m sorry you never really got to see a deeper side of me, but things were just really hard for me. Even though I never showed it, you really brightened up my day. Your carefree attitude and playfulness always made being around you a fun time, but you were always a little annoying for trying to get at my girl, but I love you. You’re like a little brother to me, and performing with you was always a blast.”

To Jay

“Thank you for everything. I love you. You’re an amazing guitarist, and you really know how to liven up a show. Though our success had just begun, you stayed the same through and through, hard-working and dedicated. I’m happy to say I’ve worked alongside you up until this point. Thank you for keeping me level-headed, and thanks for an amazing run. I just wish it could have been longer. I’m sorry that I ruined it. Hey, take care of the band, yeah? You should be the new vocalist. Don’t tell Jake or Sunghoon ;)”

To sunghoon

“I let you down, and I’m sorry. I know I was a role model for you, and I know I fucked that up. I’m sorry I never said sorry, and I’m sorry I never proved to you I could be better for you. You always saw the best in me when most saw the worst, and I really valued our friendship even though I messed it up. Hopefully, you can forgive me, nothing was ever your fault and hopefully, we’ll meet again someday, maybe just on the other side, but not too soon. Take your time. I’ll be waiting, okay? And I’ll have the absolute best version of myself waiting just for you. I love you”

To my true first love

“Hey angel girl, I’m a piece of shit, I know, and even though I was, you still stayed by my side even though you knew I was never entirely honest with you, yet you looked past it, never questioned me, and gave me my own time even though I didn’t deserve it you loved me unconditionally, and I love you for that. Sorry I never said it to your face, but I love you dearly, my angel girl. You gave me the love I’ve been searching for all my life, and I’m sorry I couldn’t show you that, but it wasn’t just the sex. I loved spending time with you, showering with you, waking up in your arms, and making love. All of it was perfect. For the first time, you made me happy, angel, and that’s saying a lot. I’m sorry I pushed you and everyone away, but I had some issues still do, and I just couldn’t let you waste your time on someone like me anymore. You are so much better off without me, and a loser like me will only hold you back, but thank you for loving me past my flaws, and thank you for supporting our band, and for the record, you never did anything wrong, you are perfect it’s just me I messed everything up, but I pushed you away cause I was scared of hurting you. Nothing I ever said was true. I just said it so maybe you’d love me less and let me go, but I hope the guys and you can live happily ever after without me. I love you, my sweet, sweet angel girl, and don’t you forget it. Even in the afterlife, I’ll still always be madly in love with you. I wish I could just hold you and kiss you one last time 😗❤️ goodbye, my sweet little angel. I love you.”

He closed his eyes, tears running down both sides of his face.

He cried freely, his heart hurting immensely. He always thought he’d die surrounded by loved ones, not alone in the darkness of his RV in a random parking lot by himself, but he made this bed. He’ll lay in it and surely die in it.

Amidst his thoughts, he begins to feel sleepy, and that’s when he sends all the texts. Knowing his time was coming soon, he looked at a picture of you in his phone, one he took without you noticing while you were hugging him in your sleep, and he smiled. His mind was swirling with thoughts of his life from when he was a child till now, and within moments, he was passed out, the gentle sound of his phone ringing was the last thing he heard. “Finally,” he breathed out, all the hurt and exhaustion leaving his body forever as his eyes closed.

-

“Yo!” Jake shouts from the living area.

“What?” Jay and Sunghoon pop their heads out from the other room, and so do you.

You had been staying with them at a little motel for a few days, waiting for the next flight back to your guy's hometown. Thankfully, the guys welcomed you to stay with them as long as you needed, and you couldn’t have been more grateful they didn’t bring up heeseung, and neither did you. All of you just silently understood and left it at that, hoping to begin the healing process on the flight back.

“I just got a text from heeseung,” Jake says, reading over it. “What the fuck?” He says, confused, reading the message over and over again. This wasn’t like heeseung, especially to leave that long of a text.

The other phones went off like a chain reaction: Jay, then Sunghoon, then lastly, you.

You all read the messages, your hearts sinking all together. “On the other side….” Sunghoon mumbled, and they all collectively looked at each other before running out of the apartment.

Thank goodness his location was still on. You all rushed to the RV, worried, stricken, and fearing the absolute worst. No one said it, but you all felt it on the drive there. Multiple red lights were run, but you didn’t care. You needed to get to him and see him as soon as possible.

When you arrived, he was still in the same spot as when you left him, and your heart sank even further.

You all sprinted to the RV, and you tried opening the door, but it was locked. “Step aside.” Jake took off his flannel shirt, easily punching a hole in the glass, the adrenaline pumping through his veins as Jay rushed inside immediately.

You all flooded heeseung’s room. The door was open, the room filled with smoke and the smell of weed, and through all the smoke, heeseung was lying lifeless on his bed. His phone in his hand, your plushie on his chest and a blunt trapped between his stiffening fingers.

Your heart broke seeing him like this, and you quickly rushed to his side, kneeling down next to him. “Hee? Heeseung baby? Wake up.” You shook his body gently, tears welling in your eyes. You grabbed the stupid blunt from his hand, throwing it off into the room somewhere you couldn’t care about right now. “Hee, please,” you cried, your body losing all its strength. The text told you enough, but you didn’t want to believe it.

“Heeseung….” Sunghoon muttered, completely petrified, still standing in the doorway, unable to move cause it was actually real this time, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Jake and Jay tried to shake him awake, gently tapping his cheek. Jake picked up his upper body, but he flopped right back down into his mattress.

“Come on, heeseung, stop playing around,” Jake cried in complete denial.

“Heeseung!” Jay shouted, shaking his lifeless body by his shoulders, and his head fell back entirely limp.

Jake quickly dialed 911, the sirens in the background turning into a high-pitched ringing, and everyone knew it was too late.

They’d lost their friend.

Your lover laid completely still on his bed as you hovered over him, kissing his dry lips softly, you ran your fingers through his hair, holding his hand, and your heart broke when you saw yourself on his phone screen. “It’s okay, hee. You’re gonna be fine, baby. Help is on the way. You’re okay, hee,” you repeated over and over, and the guys watched the scene utterly heartbroken as he laid lifeless, unresponsive, and his lungs froze over.

-

Taglist: @loverseon @nithxhoon @fancypeacepersona @jakeyismine @hoonprksung

[bella-goths-wife]

Reunion for the damned

Yandere twilight x reader

Warnings: body horror, torture, suicidal thoughts, animal death mentioned, psychological abuse, physical abuse, emotional abuse, description of injury, smoking

Fic summary: your reunion with the volturi after your ‘kidnapping’ goes in an unexpected direction

“My sweet dear” Aro greeted as he perched on his marble throne alongside the rest of the volturi, genuine glee filling the eccentric man's face as he and the two other men look down at your figure that had been covered by your family's presence “how we’ve missed you”

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to burst into a laughter of madness that no other fit could ever outshine. You just wanted to die and rot back into the ground, a fate you would welcome with a bared neck and open chest cavity at this point.

Everyone in the room stares at you in a way that shows they want something from you. The volturi wanted the truth from you, the cullens wanted you to remain quiet and hoped no one would notice the freshly healed over cracks on your skin that hasn't had just the right amount of time to fade completely, and the spectators to your situation just wanted something to satiate their greedy needs of entertainment. And you?, you just wanted to fade into the ground and sink slowly into the depths of your own exhaustion and paranoia.

The process of putting you back together again was pure agony, similar to gluing a porcelain cup back together piece by piece. Carlisle had not stopped at breaking just your hand off, he shattered away every limb below your neck off one by one, leaving you a tortured torso that screamed and begged for an inch of mercy but you weren't granted that. 

Carlise was nice enough to do the damage quickly instead of drawing the process out and risking accidentally sabotaging the delicate healing process. It seems the cullens sadism was outshined by their combined saviour complexes as they tried to make the healing process as comfortable for you as possible and took their turns ‘caring’ for you.

They laid you in the softest of beds and used washcloths to dab away the excess of tears that poured from your eyes, bringing you cups of blood with a cute straw to help you drink without the accessibility of your limbs. But laying in the silk sheets and drinking the finest blood did nothing to limit the horror of your situation. 

To heal the broken off limbs, the cullens strapped your torso down to the bed before laying the limbs in the original positions and allowing the vampire healing factors to work their unexplainable magic. Your limbs pulled themselves back together in a hellish process, similar to having your skin slowly stitched back together and bones forcibly fused. You screamed the entire time as you watched your porcelain textured skin reattach and you became whole again, the clattering and clicking of the process never able to be drowned out as you felt yourself slowly growing madder than the hatter.

It took three days for the bones to reform, an additional week for you to be able to use them fully again but not long enough for the cracks to fade and certainly never long enough for you to not get a phantom pain when you heard the clanking of porcelain or you see the cracks adorning your limbs.

Carlisle had wanted to let you rest at home longer, but the Volturi were not known for being patient and sent word for you as soon as they had heard their gentle heart had returned to her nest. And they were granted their wish as you stood before them, but this version of you wasn't the one they remembered.

“She’s missed you too, Aro” Carlisle offers after your silence goes on too long, the man can withstand committing violent acts of torture but couldnt handle a slight impoliteness or ongoing awkward silence “She’s just more quiet, after her little situation”

Aro eyed your figure in a suspicious manner, gaze meeting the hints to the cracks on your skin that had been hidden beneath conservative clothing you’d been dressed in, your chest had gone back to being forcibly bound once again. Physically you looked almost identical to the girl he remembered, but the added horror in your eyes was a new touch.

“Lucky for us all, I can see everything i need to know from a simple touch of my sweet girls hand” Aro states in a sweet tone as he comes closer but he only invites you to move further back behind the figures of your family “dear, don’t you want me to know of your journey, so i can make it better?”

You want to believe that the volturi will free you, that aro will free you and bring you to a safe environment away from the cullens where you could fix the irreparable damage they had caused your soul, but that was all just a fantasy. They knew what pain the cullens had done in the past and could do nothing to help you then, why be foolish enough to believe in childish notions of saviours now you had experienced the scorching hot pain of helplessness and disappointment. Instead you choose to cower behind your captors because the hundreds of years with them had made you accustomed to what they are, and you now believed it was safer to stick with the devil you know rather than choose a new path that only prolongs the pain and brings you to the same conclusion.

“She isn’t fond of being touched these days, by anyone other than her family that is” Carlisle answers for you once again, a subtle jab to the Volturi that has you hearing cracking sounds from Caius’s marble throne, a sound that makes you flinch slightly due to the familiarity of the sound “and we’ve discussed that she doesn't wish to relive what happened, it's just too much for the girl to bare”

“Then have her tell us” Caius demands as he stands from his throne and is only stopped by Aro’s raised hand and your further retreat behind the Cullens “what did those rogues do?”

“You are safe now, dear” Marcus reassures from his throne with a concerned expression on his face, you want to scoff at the word safe as you doubt you’ve felt safe since the day you were turned into the monster you are now “you can confide in us”

Your eyes look at them but your figure continues to shrink into itself as the hairs on the back of your neck prickle up at the sense that the Cullens were watching you, dissecting your every move and waiting to pounce once you said the wrong thing or you gave the wrong look.

“Speak, child” Caius demanded out of frustration as he rose from his throne and strided forward to you, his intention wasn't to distress you but to know what had been done to you in your absence “or did the rogues take out your damned tongue?”

You back away at his sudden presence and feel yourself gulping air that your body didn’t need. Caius is taken aback by this reaction, you had not feared him in decades as you were one of the very few he allowed to see him soft, this was not the girl he remembered so fondly, this was a husk of the gentle soul he had once known.

“Enough, Caius” Aro yells as his hand lands on Caius’s shoulder to stop his demanding approach, the Cullens surrounding you hiss at him aggressively “the poor girl is shaking, leave her be”

Guilt is an emotion that Caius wasn’t used to feeling, sometimes he doubts he’s even able to do so. You prove he can when his eyes land on your trembling figure and widened eyes

“Perhaps it's best if the child waits outside in the gardens while we discuss what happened” Marcus offers as he senses the pure unease and the shift in yours and Caius’s dynamic “if the subject is too much for her to recount”

There is a shift in Carlisle’s demeanour, unable to be caught by people other than your family. There is a glint of victory in his eyes as he senses an opening, a way to shift the narrative into what his delusions have convinced him is the truth. He can tell the story without the pesky intrusions such as your opinion or the truth.

“Excellent idea” Carlisle flashes his charming smile once again “Alice, Jasper, go take her to the gardens-”

“No” Aro interrupts, shocking the Cullens as he waves them away “Jane and Alec will escort her, give them a chance to catch up”

“Aro” Carlisle says warningly, his hand holding onto your shoulder tightly “she's fragile, she should be with family-”

“It wasn't a request” Aro says with a tight grin “loosen the leash Carlisle”

Carlisle sighs and lets go of his tight grip on your shoulder, giving you a final warning look that’s only met with your dead eyes and a nod. Jane and Alec are at your side instantly as they guide you out the room, the door closing behind the three of you

“Now, Cullens” Aro speaks as all three of the Volturi kings look at the family with menacing expressions “tell us what happened to our gentle girl”

The Cullen family couldn’t help but feel nervous at the new sense of suspicion that entered in your absence, trapping them in place.

———————————————————————

Jane and Alec try to talk to you once you reach the gardens, Alec mostly carrying the attempts as Jane observes you with her usual cold, stoic expression yet to the trained eye, traces of concern were etched into her gaze.

You didn’t speak much in return, offering mumbled out yes or nos and small hums in response to their words. It was a strange sight for the two, usually your lovely voice would fill the voids of silence the two siblings had between each other but now you were like a songbird who had lost her voice and now sat sadly at the bottom of her golden cage.

“The night is quite lovely out here tonight” Alec commented as he stood beside you on the balcony overlooking the gardens, the moonlight shining down softly but his words were only met with a small nod from you.

“I’m sure there are some birds around here you could control” Jane offers in her usual stoic tone as her eyes search the treelines for any wildlife “an owl perhaps”

“I don’t really do that much anymore” you mumble out quietly, this news taking the two aback slightly due to them knowing how much you loved your gift and how effortlessly you were usually able to connect with the nature around you “Can’t really find a connection”

You choose to leave ot the fact that any animal you choose to find a connection with chooses to die rather than share your bond, birds flying into windows to avoid singing for you and smaller animals starving themselves rather than to sit at your side.

Your response is only met with silence from the siblings as they’re thoughts race at the revelation, eyes darting to take in every little detail of your demeanour, your dead eyes and tense shoulders as if you were expecting pain to be inflicted at any moment.

“Will you tell us what happened to you, dearest friend?” Jane asks as she stands before you, blood red eyes meeting yours in hidden yearning, desperation “confide in us what has been done to you?”

You still at the question, it's hard to answer questions about the supposed nightmare of your absence without admitting its the most freedom you’ve ever experienced in your life and how much you wish you could magic yourself back into that shared motel room with James and Victoria.

“It's not what you think” is all you offer through a hushed whisper as you avoid their intruding gazes 

“Well what can we do to fix it” Alec demands as he intrudes on your personal space in order to bring him a glimpse of the girl you were “to fix you”

Alec had certainly picked up on more of Caius’s habits than either of them would admit, both being hot headed when it concerned you and both blunt when looking to find the cure for you.

“Alec” Jane attempts to calm her brother but he’s already passed his emotional threshold, years of being in the high guard had made them both accustomed to getting their own way so your lack of usual sweetness and cooperation seemed to grate on Alec

“We can get you whatever you need to feel better” Alec offers in a slightly desperate manner “blood, animals, revenge, whatever it takes to heal your mind and to soothe you”

“Freedom” is what your mind screams but your mouth does not allow to speak “freedom is the only thing to fix me, and the one thing you cannot give”

“Just speak it and we can make it happen, dearest” Jane tries to encourage as she notices your mouth open and struggle to find the words 

“I…I wish to be alone” you struggle to ask but you look at the siblings with those big eyes of yours, and manage to give them a glimpse of who you once were “please?”

The siblings look at each other before Alec sighs and Jane nods her head, both of them leaving you alone without a word, sensing that pushing you further would only cause more hurt and distress.

You're left alone to stare off the balcony, looking down at the bottom and wondering what kind of fall that would be. You closed your eyes as you envisioned yourself climbing over the balcony and dropping to the bottom, would your body crack like a porcelain doll like how carlisle broke your hand off or would it splinter off like wood like when Emmett pushed your hips too hard into the ground. The thought brings James to mind and the pure guilt causes you to let out a sigh.

“The fall wouldn’t kill you” Your eyes flash open at the sound of a man's voice, turning to find a handsome blonde vampire stood beside you with a cigarette between his fingers and a stoic expression “not unless you knocked down one of the lanterns with you, still a risky move that'll probably only end with you missing a limb though”

You wince slightly at his words, your eyes looking down to your cracked skin and sighing.

“Sorry” he apologises in a way that doesn’t sound very genuine, exhaling the smoke from his lit cigarette “too soon?”

You frown at him as your gaze narrows at his mocking words, eyes landing on his hand that cradles his lit cigarette.

“Does that even do anything for you?” you mutter out curiously, a light scoff emitted from your throat 

“Not much” he admits with a careless shrug “but i enjoy the smell”

Your nose crinkles slightly in disgust but you offer him a silent nod as he exhales his smoke.

“So, is making suicidal plans the way you spend your time nowadays?” The vampire asks with a raise brow as he leans against the balcony carelessly 

“Do we know each other?” you ask with a frown, confused on how he can speak to you so brazenly 

“You and I have been scandalously acquainted for some time now” the vampire states cryptically “just never face to face”

You're about to enquire on whatever that means, a blur of red in the corner of your eye captures your attention instead as you turn your head quickly in the hopes of catching a hint of Victoria and instead finding just a red haired volturi member passing by instead, your shoulders slumping at the revelation.  

Your mind had constantly run through scenarios of what had happened to Victoria and where she could be now. Though you doubt that wherever she was that she’d want to see you again, the guilt of James death weighing heavy on your heart-

“She doesn't blame you, y’know” the handsome vampire speaks beside you, interrupting your thoughts once again “stupid to think she would be, wasn’t your fault”

“How would you know?” you ask with a light scoff

“Because I watched everything that happened and I see everything that will happen” the vampire speaks cryptically once again but his blunt tone takes you aback “she still looks for you y’know, not that she’ll find you again with those freaks looking after you-”

“Why are you speaking to me like this?” you interrupt with a frown, partly out of frustration and partly out of confusion as someone speaks of the Cullens disrespectfully.

“Because I know a thing or two about living under the thumb of those who have robbed you of what was yours and expect a thank you for it” he scoffs out before taking a drag of his cigarette “I know the dark place your mind is in, been there once or twice myself”

A heavy silence sits between the two of you, the only sound being the owls in the trees

“...how did you escape them?” you ask quietly as you copy his stance of leaning against the balcony “your captors”

“I played the long game, let the treat me like an animal and spit in my face and thanked them for it until I had the chance to commit my revenge” he explains stoically “I waited for the perfect moment”

“Didn’t work out well for me” you remark bitterly but you're only rewarded with a scoff from the vampire “what?”

“You didn’t do it right, you waited for others to join you before you committed to the idea of revenge or freedom outside of dying” the vampire scoffs out “granted you played the long game but you played it so long that you grew too content with the idea that death was the only way out”

“I tried-” you attempt to interrupt but the man turns to you suddenly and looks you in the eyes

“You were weak, you waited on others to save you” the man states bluntly “nobody is coming to save you, either do it yourself or accept the Cullens as your forever home”

Your eyes widen at his words and blunt demeanour and the truth he held, the truth that others had shielded you from and that you’d buried within yourself to avoid facing. He didn't coddle you or sugarcoat his words for you, he spoke to you like you could handle it and treated you almost like an equal.

“I’m not saying it to be mean” he states calmly “but no one ever speaks to you plainly, your not a kid and you can handle the truth”

“What's your name?” you ask suddenly, an act that has the vampires eyes widening in shock

“Alexander Johnson Ward” he answers with a narrowed gaze, he was expecting tears, not personal questions “people call me Johnny”

“Thank you, Johnny” you say genuinely as you look up at him in light curiosity “for the advice”

“No problem” Johnny responds with a slight huff of amusement as he puts his cigarette out “I better get out of here”

“I’ll see you around?” you call after his retreating figure with a curious tone

“Like a shadow” he calls back before leaving you alone on the balcony, your eyes following his absence.

You hear the gentle sounds of an owl in the trees nearby, closing your eyes and summoning it closer. The owl perches on the edge of the balcony in front of you, being able to connect with an animal without it dying for the first time in a while. You stroke the owl gently and listen to its gentle song as your mind tries to form your next plan.

Nobody is going to save you, you need to save yourself this time.

How do y’all like the update you’ve been wanting for nearly two years? 😅

[massiv3tr33p3rsona]

Remember You | Stack X Valerie (Black Fem Vampire OC) / Sammie X Pearline X Valerie

Home Part II.

Pairing(s): Elias ‘Stack’ Moore (Sinners) x Valerie (Black Fem Vampire OC) (Woman in Top Right: Nicole Beharie) and Valerie x Pearline (Sinners) x Sammie ‘Preacher Boy’ Moore (a smidge because this goes into Part III!)

Summary: After avoiding being captured by vampire hunters, Remmick and almost killed by a Klan member, Valerie goes to a juke joint in the middle of nowhere. As she spends time scooping around and flirting with Pearline & Sammy, she runs into Stack, who co-owns the club with Smoke. They have a conversation, where they reminisce about that night they spent together back in Chicago before she was transformed.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS DNI!), a bit lengthy, slight bisexuality, oral (m receiving, f receiving), titty sucking, choking, slapping, riding, squirting, creampie, slight angst, vampirism, emotional feelings, flashback, mentions of death/rebirth, suicide, and racism, violence, blood, cursing, smoking, drinking, slight spoilers, slight spirituality

Dividers Made By: @uzmacchiato

Parts: I • III • IV.I • IV.II • Epilogue • Prequel

A/N I: Annie, Smoke, and Lucinda returns, with Slim, Sammie, Pearline, Cornbread, Mary, Bo, and Grace making their first appearances. And please ignore that Valerie is eating some of the catfish. Didn’t know garlic powder was in the seasoning. And I’m aware that the Saint Valentine’s Day massacre was during the day, but it sounds better at night for some reason. Also may have went a little too crazy with the violence in one section.

THIS IS MY WORK, SO PLEASE DO NOT STEAL IT

Its night time as the dark forest and dirt road glows under the pale moonlight, the cool evening air breezing. But, it’s disturbed by movement, particularly running.

Running down the road is a beautiful brownskin woman in a torn up floral dress and white sandals, hair loose and fear all over her. She constantly turns around to make sure no one is following her, being prepared to fight back if necessary.

Just about two hours ago, she was almost kidnapped by a devil incarnated vampire named Remmick, his wife and two other members, looking to start their own community of invoking evil into bodies to control.

Little did they know, Valerie was one herself.

About three and a half years ago, on a rainy night in downtown Chicago, Valerie was turned into one by her maker, Eros, after taking her own life by jumping off the bridge into the Chicago River and washing up on a dock. She learned how to live, behave, and eat like a vampire while recovering, even got the gift of hearing most people’s thoughts, which helped with having perfect survival and hunting skills.

Which lead to issue #2: an almost deadly encounter with the local Choctaw Vampire Hunters.

An hour after getting away from Remmick, she was startled by a group of Native men on horses passing by, causing her to fall and tear her dress in some areas. As she got up, she hissed at the horses and shown her fangs, scaring the animals back. One of them knocked their rider off, making all of them block Valerie from leaving, cornering her.

As she realized he was carrying things that can kill a vampire and has no way out, one of them jumps down to question her. Just as he was getting close, he gets ambushed by some shadow, with the rest of the man being attacked similarly. She looks up and sees Remmick floating in the air, blood covering his mouth and eyes glowing red.

“Join us, Valerie. You’ll fit in nice……you already one of us. I can smell your cinnamon magnolia scent from here.” he said, lowering himself to ground.

Valerie picks up a glass of an unidentifiable liquid from one of the deceased riders and throws it at him, hitting his arm. He lets out a hiss and begins rolling on the ground to get it off, giving her an opportunity to run away as fast as she could.

As she was getting further and further into the forest, she can see more Choctaw Hunters pulling up through the view of trees, making sure to avoid them while they past. Their blood scent roams through her nose, but she refuses to let her hunger cost her life and continued on. Now here she is, not where to do next now that she’s lost.

“Where am I gonna go..” she whispers, walking on the side.

Suddenly, she hears a car slowing driving up, making her walk on the side to avoid getting hit, not looking back. The car, a black Bentley 8 Litre, passes by, not seeing her. It stops and begins reversing, making her pause her movements.

Hiding her hands behind her back, she extends them into long and sharp fingers, preparing to defend herself as the car stop in front of her. The windows rolls down, with the driver revealing itself as a older, overweight white man, wearing a black and white plaid suit and gold framed glasses.

“Good evening, young lady. Are you lost?” he asked in a Southern Mississippi accent, looking her up and down.

As she walks up, she looks at the inside of his car, making sure nothing seemed off about it.

“Maybe.” as she moved her hair to the side, her fingers back to normal. “You know where I’m at?”

“Just outside of Clarksdale, north to be exact.. Never seen folks like you around here.” he replied.

“Folks, huh….” she said, side-eying him.

“Not like that!” as he holds his hands up in a surrendering way. “Normally, they travel mostly west or east. I can take you there if you like. You look like you need something.”

Valerie looks at the man with a highbrowed expression, thinking about his offer.

He seems like he knows where to take me, she says in her head, hearing his heart beating accompanying as background noise.

Hope she doesn’t realize my actual plan if she gets in, he says in his head, which she hears.

Valerie is appalled by this, very shocked that he has pure malicious attention behind his innocent facade he has on.

You’re so dumb and oblivious for saying that. But now, I have my dinner for the night, she says, smiling a bit.

“You know if any fabrics store is open this hour? I do need a new dress.” she asked, leaning against the window so her breasts are in his view.

“N-no, ma’am. We close at 10 every night due to curfew.” he said as he looks at them. “However, my late wife has a lot of dresses she left behind at the house. I can lend some to you and drop you off downtown if you’re comfortable with that.” he said, having a profaned look on his face.

“….deal.” she utters instantly.

“Good! Hop right on in so I can get to moving.” he said as he opens the door for her.

Valerie gets in, closing the door and putting on her seatbelt as the man begins driving, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Name’s Harold.” he said, making her look at him.

“Valerie.” she replied.

“Valerie, huh? You don’t sound like you from arounds here.” he said as he steps on the pedal a bit.

“You would be correct. I’m from Chicago originally.”

Great. Another nig from there coming down here to infect the city more. he utters in his head.

Racist idiot. “…..got something against Chicago?” she asked, making him snap out of his contraction.

“Huh?”

Valerie laughs, facing forward as she adjusts into her seat, noticing a KKK blond drop symbol patch on his dashboard.

And you’re a member of the Klu Klux Klan? Wow, you’re gonna be an easy kill tonight, she said in a delightful tone.

“You went silent as soon as I said that.” she replied.

“Oh no! My friend just sold something to two black brothers from out there today, so you’re like the third one I’m running across.”

“Mm.”

“What brings you out here?”

“Wanted to start over as I outgrew living up there. I’m going to miss the night life though.”

“Night life?” as he scoffed. “You prefer that more than day time?”

“Day time drags on too long for my liking. Night life brings out everyone. Even the *bad.” she says at she looks at him.

“What, you liking hanging around those types of people?”

“Not really.” as she stretched out her legs, feeling his gaze.

She rubs her hand over her calf, slowly trailing her fingers up her body until she stops at her neck, hearing his heart beating going fast.

“Only the ones who don’t mind following under my control.” she added, saying it in a seductive tone.

Harold stares with lust, accidentally jerking the car wheel, which almost ran the vehicle off the road, going back to paying attention to it.

God I need to get her home fast, he said in his head.

Valerie smirks, patiently waiting for them to arrive to his house so she can indulge him and no one will come and help.

About 30 minutes later, the car pulls up to a red bricked house, with a roofed garage attached to it.

Harold parks the car and gets out, quickly walking to Valerie side to help her out of the car.

“Thank you, Harold. I really do appreciate you for this.” she says as she grabs his hand and steps out.

“No worries, me lady.” he replied, making the both of them laugh.

They walk to the door, with Harold looking through his keys, trying to find the house one. Valerie looks around the area, hearing a loud noise in the distance.

“Do you know what that noise is?” she asks, looking at him.

“Probably the brothers’ new club.” he replied, sticking the key in to unlock the door.

Which will be a killing field for us come tomorrow, he says, laughing as he opens the door, stepping aside.

You won’t make it and neither will they, she says as she walks in, giving him a smile.

Harold steps in and closes the door, turning on the lights to brighten the room. Valerie looks around, taking in the white walls, black furniture, and red items design.

Yeah, you’re definitely Klan with these color scheme you went with, she says as he clapped his hands.

“Alright. I’m gonna go bring in some dresses and shoes from upstairs. Bathroom is down the hall on your left. There’s some clean hair rollers and brushes she left behind. Be right back!” he said, walking past her.

Valerie nods, watching him head up the stairs, disappearing into the ceiling. She begins walking down the hallway, looking at the few photos he has hanging on his walls.

His wedding picture. A family picture of them with his kids. Him with a group of friends, holding up guns and a Confederate flag. Gross. And lastly, a picture of him getting sworn into the Klu Klux Klan as other members watch. The names of each member is listed, align with their face:

Bert Hogwood, Joan Smith-Hogwood, Charles Hogwood, Harold Hogwood, Jeffrey Johnson, and David Lee Hart. Noted.

She looks at it for a few more minutes before continuing walking. Passing a room with a door open, she see Harold’s white Klu Klux Klan robe lying on a chair in room surrounded by guns and knifes.

Hm….maybe I should take something while he’s not looking.

She looks at each gun lined up against the wall, turns away as they are too big for her to even carry out. She then looks at the desk where knives are laid out, examining each one. A gold holder catches her attention, picking it up. Taking it out, the knife is a reflective 8 inch, blade is sharp enough to cut through the skin easy.

“Yeah, Ima take you.” she mumbles, putting it back in the holder.

Hearing Harold coming down the steps, she put holder into the top of the dress and scurries to the bathroom.

She pretends to be preoccupied by the rollers when Harold appears at the door, holding dresses in one hand and boxes of shoes in the other as she looks at him.

“I see I have options.” she said, a smile on her face.

“Yeah, I was struggling to figure out which ones will look great on you as she had so many dresses.” he says, placing the boxes on the counter and the dresses behind the door.

He stands there as Valerie looks at the dresses, examining each one.

“Well. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you so I could take you downtown. Does that sound okay with you?” he asks.

“Sounds fine.” she replied.

“Good! I’ll let you get to it, Miss Valerie.” he says, turning away.

“Thank you again. I do really appreciate this, Harold.” she says as he walks off.

Good. That’s the last time you’ll appreciate anything, he says.

Same for you, she says as she closes the door.

Valerie looks in the mirror, thinking about what is she gonna do to him now that she has an hour to get ready. Many ideas run through ahead, from ways of luring him in or how brutal she should go out for him, but nothing lands.

Then, she remembers his robe is on the chair in the room, giving her a glorious idea for the execution as she began to do her hair.

An hour later, Harold gets up from the couch, begins to walk down the hallway. Just as he getting close, the lights go out, instantly making him mad.

“What the fuck?!” he utters, stomping his feet.

He turns around and goes to where the light switch was, flicking it on and off to success. He grabs the flashlight on the table and turns it on, taking his pistol he had hidden in the back of his pants.

“You okay, Valerie? Did the lights go out in the bathroom?” he asks in a loud voice as he slowly begins to walk.

No answer.

That woman better not have escaped, he says getting close.

Suddenly, a woman’s moaning echoes the hallway, making him pause his movement. It sounds like she’s singing beautifully, which makes Harold slowly get hard.

“What the….” he whispers, continuing his walk.

As he gets closer to the bathroom, the door to his weapons slowly opens, catching his attention. Pointing the gun and flashlight at it, he kicks open the door, watching it swing open.

The window behind his desk is open, blowing some air in. Knives? Looked untouched. But his klan robe that was lying on the chair? Gone. He turns to see if any of his weapons have gone missing and is startled by a figure, causing him to fall into the door.

As he gets back on his feet, he realizes the figure, holding its head down, is wearing his robe and mask, making him point his gun and flashlight towards it, cocking the gun.

“Who the hell are you and why in God’s name do you have on my robe?!” he yells.

The figure lifts its head up, with glowing green eyes. It begins moaning again. Its remove the mask, revealing itself as Valerie, who now had a sinister smirk plastered on her face.

“You liked that, did you?” she asks, causing him to drop his gun and flashlight as fear takes over him.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asks in a scared voice.

“What happened to me? I say….. a rebirth.” she utters, walking towards him.

Harold runs out, but just as he was getting close to the front door, Valerie respawns in front of him, causing him to fall into the living room.

“My old life in Chicago, I have freedom and felt like I was seen with my community work, helping out my people who lived there or came to escape from whatever they were going through. But that changed after I got my heart broken by someone I thought cared about me. So I took my own life.” she utters, somberness taking over her.

“Well, you should’ve stayed dead, nig!” he utters, crawling backwards to get away.

Valerie chuckles as she takes out the dagger, stabbing the core part of Harold’s foot, paling him to the floor. He screams in agony, watching him turn red as she climbs on top of him.

“But someone saw potential in me and transformed me into a new person. So I came down here to start a new life since Chicago is slowly dying and instantly, I almost died over how I looked twice so far. Would’ve been three hadn’t I heard the ability to hear people’s thoughts and your plans on killing me and my people in your little racist head.” she says as she wraps her hand, her fingers now long and sharp, around his neck, squeezing it.

He begins choking, filling the tightness from her hand, closing in his throat, preventing oxygen from coming in as she leans down to his face.

“And you know what I say to that? Instead of fearing being killed for how I look, I no longer fear that now I have the power to take out anyone who wishes to cause harm against me and my people as they get in my way.” she states as she moves his head up, exposing his neck more.

“Please…” he begs in a dried painful voice. “I’ll let you live if you just let me go.”

“……see you in hell, Harold.” is the last thing she utters.

Valerie opens her mouth, revealing her fangs as she chomps on Harold’s neck hard, beginning to suck the blood out. His screams fills the room he attempt to break out of her hold, but the pain is preventing it from succeeding.

She lifts her head up, his blood spread all over her face in the robe as she looks down at his half decaying self, tears falling out of his eyes.

“Oh honey….I promise this will all go away soon. Just let me get to the good part of you.” she whispers, pulling the dagger out of his foot.

She gets off him, kneeling on the left side of his body. Holding the dagger over his chest, she stabs through it, cutting a hole through it. As she uses all of her strength to push the blade around, she watches his body and leak blood from his eyes, mouth, ears and nose, the pressure pushing through all areas.

After completing the hole, she moves the layer of his skin, which exposes his heart. She yanked the heart out, watching it beat hard in her hand as she brings it to her face.

She smells it, groaning at the delicious essence it gives off before biting into it, indulging each bite.

“I’m gonna finish it before I leave so now by finds a dead body tomorrow.” she mumbled into an evil laugh, kicking at his leg.

She takes another bite, moaning at the texture and taste as the moonlight shines on her bloody looking self and his dead body.

Pulling up in the dead man’s car, Valerie looks at herself in the mirror.

Hair curled and layered, silk green dress fitting tight and kept her girlies up, and black flats fitting comfortably, she smiles.

Flashing two single gold bottom tooth grills she made from a watch and Harold’s teeth, she looks good for someone that just killed and ingest someone’s body about 45 minutes ago.

“Remember, Valerie: do not show your true self while you’re around all these people, dancing, drinking, and all that.” she said, grabbing the tan fur shawl in the seat and getting out.

Locking the car and adjusting the holder hiding above her underwear, she walks to the building, with the name, ‘Club Juke’ etched in red paint on the hanging sign above the front entrance.

Feeling people staring at her and some guys whistling as she walked by, she patiently waits in line, watching the two bodyguards turn people away or let them in until they got to her.

“Good evening, ma’am. Welcome to Club Juke!” said the tall, straw hat, overalls wearing man, smiling at her.

“Good evening to you as well, Mr??” she asked, a smile appearing on her face.

“Cornbread. I have another name, but because I’ve only ate cornbread growing up, that’s how I got the name.” he replied, laughing a bit.

“Wait…..” as she looks at him, a shocked look on her face. “You’re Cornbread?”

“Yeah? Just said that a few seconds ago?” he replied, confusion on his face.

What is this lady’s problem?, he utters in his head.

“Sorry. Had my friend who mentioned you to me added that you were this tall, I would’ve worn some heels at least.” she replied, earning a laugh from him.

Thank god I didn’t make it a little too awkward, she utters.

“I get that a lot from unfamiliar faces. But, ima let you in. And hope you have a good time, alright now?” he replied, moving to the side.

Valerie nods before walking in, greeting the other bodyguard as she passes by.

And bless whoever gets with her because damn…..if I wasn’t married, I would be all over her, Cornbread utters.

Too bad you’re not my type, she says.

As she enter the building, she can feel the vibe of the atmosphere flowing through. The music is loud and booming, with attendees dancing and drinking, some chatting and eating as the elder pianist plays on the stage, moving side to side.

She looks at him, taking in some familiar features that she has seen before. Parted hair, gold front tooth, a beer on the piano, and he’s moving to the music under his fingers.

Where have I seen this man before…

“Slim is a good player, huh?” asked an unfamiliar female Creole accent voice.

Valerie turns to her right and sees a short, plus size, darkskin woman with bangs and long hair standing next to her, watching the performance.

“Slim?” she replied.

“Delta Slim. We usually refer to him as Slim around here.”

That’s who that was. Good ole Slim.

“Oh right. I forgot that’s his first name. Then again, he hasn’t been to Chicago in a long time.” she added, leaning against the pole.

“You’re from Chicago?” the woman asks, curiosity in her tone.

“I is. I thought it was obvious with my accent.”

“I never been out there. But, my girlfriend’s husband just came back from there today, though.” the woman replied, drinking from her water.

“What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?” asked Valerie, pulling out a cigarette and lighter from her chest.

“Lucinda. I work for Annie and well….date her.” said the woman, causing Valerie to pause.

Why does that name sound familiar as well?

“You’re not Annie?” is what Valerie replied, earning an intense stare from Lucinda.

“Nah. May I ask why?” she asked.

Dont tell me one of his whores traveled all the way down here to start trouble, said Lucinda.

Either this woman knows of me or its a misunderstanding, said Valerie, lighting up her cigarette and smoking it.

“That name. Annie. Haven’t heard it in a long time, but I don’t know where. Maybe I heard it when I was still in Chicago or it’s just a name I heard when I was on the road. But I don’t mean no harm at all.” said Valerie, blowing smoke out.

“No harm?” said Lucinda, who is noticeably irritated. “What do you mean by that? Are you someone that’s coming to ruin shit? Because if so you can ge—“ as she raises her voice.

Valerie’s anger was about to come out when a small Asian woman comes up to them, gently tapping Lucinda’s shoulder, making her turn.

“Sorry, Lu. But Annie needs you in the kitchen. We’re running low on the mixed rice.” the woman says.

“…yeah, I’ll be there in a few, Grace.” Lucinda replied, before turning back to Valerie.

She steps into her space, leaning forward as Valerie eyes her.

“This isn’t over. But I’ll let you slide this time. However, you pull something evil against my girlfriend or her husband, I’m gonna be the first person you’ll see charging at you.” she utters, making Grace look at her in a crazy way.

Valerie chuckles, leaning in to close the distance as Lucinda’s scent arises to her nose, making her sniff a bit.

Baby breath, sea salt, lavender, and nutmeg? Is this a witch in my presence or someone who is about to find out they’re pregnant in a few weeks?, said Valerie.

“Aye aye, captain.” replied Valerie.

Agbere (Whore), utters Lucinda as she turns away, walking to the kitchen.

Valerie rolls her eyes as Grace turns to follow her back.

“Just so you know: I’m not here to start anything.” she utters, making Grace look back.

“Excuse me?” said Grace.

“I’m just trying to understand where am I at and how come a lot of things I am discovering sound very familiar to me. I promise I’m not trying to start issues.” she stated, making Grace look confused.

Why is she saying this to me…, Grace uttered.

”She’s probably just exhausted. We did spend all day building this so we can open tonight.” she added, a small smile on her face.

“Well. It’s a beautiful job you all did. Especially whoever made the front sign.” said Valerie, inhaling more of her cigarette.

Grace stared at her for a bit before continuing, feeling like she’s getting a weird vibe from her.

“Thank you. It was the only color we had. But I am gonna go back. If you’re hungry, we have catfish, greens, white rice, and mixed rice. If you’re thirsty, we have water, Irish beer, Italian wine, and moonshine. And enjoy the music, of course!” Grace said in a fast way as she headed back to the kitchen.

What an odd way to exit, said Valerie.

The audience cheers as Slim stands up, taking in the positive reception.

“Y’all having a good time at Club Juke?!” he asked in an exciting voice.

The audience yells “Yeah!” in unison, making him blush a bit.

“Y’all want me to continue?” he asks.

“Hell Yeah!” is what the audience shouts back, making him nod erratically before he takes another sip of his beer and sits down, beginning to play again.

As Valerie turns to walk, she bumps into a woman, accidentally knocking her down.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry. I didn’t see you…..” she begins to say while helping her up.

As the woman stand ups, Valerie takes in her looks. Her deep brown skin shines under the lights as the beauty mark on her cheek enhances the curve of her cheekbone. Her lips look fluffy and a perfect shape as her eyes flutter, making eye contact with her.

“There.” she added, not letting go of the woman’s arm.

“It’s fine.” the soft Southern accent woman said as she gently removed her arm. “Most people tend to not see me walking by.”

Her ambery vanilla and blood scent roams through Valerie’s nostrils, making her inhale and slightly, feeling a buzz go through her.

“That’s sad.” she said, earning a slight squint from the woman.

“How so?” she asked, folding her arms in.

Valerie smiles, putting her cigarette out before sliding the lighter back into her top, the woman watching.

“They’re missing out on the radiance you bring when you walk into the room.” she says as she steps forward, taking in her green scarf and silk dress.

“Your confidence and elegance also elevates that. If they missed out on that….good luck with finding something better.” she added, sending her a seductive smirk.

The woman smiles back, putting her arms down.

“You sure you don’t have someone waiting for you in here?” the woman asks.

“No. Haven’t felt that in years actually. You?” asked Valerie.

Yeah. But he doesn’t have to know, said the woman, making Valerie smile slightly as the woman turns.

“I do. But he’s home.” she replied, walking away.

“Yet..you’re here.” said Valerie, following her.

“I would tread lightly if I were you.” said the woman, side eying her.

“I’ll listen because you asked nicely.” as Valerie fixed her shawl. “What brings you out here?”

“Someone I know is playing tonight and I thought I come to see it for myself. If only I can find him…” she said, looking around the room.

“He’s good?” asked Valerie as they begin to walk together.

“Yeah. Met him at the train station today where him and Slim were playing while one of his twin cousins was promoting this place.”

Twins? Cousins? Okay, where the hell am I at because why is this also familiar to me..

A young man in a brown hat, white shirt, light brown sweater and pants, and brown shoes walks up, smiling at the woman.

“You came.” he said to her, a deep Southern Mississippi voice coming out.

…He is truly blessed with sounding like that, said Valerie, feeling herself get hot.

“I did. Couldn’t miss your performance.” the woman said to him.

The man looks at Valerie, taking in her beauty.

Wow….she’s just as beautiful as Pearline, he said, looking Valerie up and down.

“Could’ve told me the man was young and handsome.” said Valerie, looking at Pearline.

“Didn’t think you would be interested. Since we just met.” Pearline replied, looking back at her.

“Oh? You making friends already.” the man said.

“Don’t might having another one. I can handle two at once.” said Valerie, eyeing the both of them.

Pearline bits her lips as the man smirks, impressed by that response.

This woman is going to be the death of me more than him, said Pearline, wiping her face a bit.

Will gladly be that for you…and him, said Valerie, adjusting her stance.

“Where are my manners?” as she holds out her hand. “Name’s Valerie. I’m from Chicago.”

“Pearline. I’m from outside of Clarksdale.” she said.

“Sammie. Also known as ‘Preacher Boy’. I’m from around here.” he said, taking Valerie’s hand and kissing it.

His woody spice and blood scent tickles her nostrils, making her smile a bit.

“Wow, y’all smell delicious.” she mumbles.

“Hm?” said Sammie, confusion on his face.

“I mean…” as she cleared her throat. “Wow. You’re the one who plays the guitar.”

“Yeah.” he nods. “Been practicing for a while.”

“Must feel a little nervous doing your first performance here.” said Pearline.

“A little, but my confidence is great now. Thanks to my cous….” he said, trailing off.

He looks past both women, seeing something that’s bothering him.

“Can you two excuse me for a moment?” he utters, walking towards whatever the issue is.

Valerie watches him, seeing him walk up to a white woman in a light pink silk dress, a matching shawl, and brunette bob, beginning to say something to her.

However, she focuses on the woman, her familiar presence lingering in her mind, making her think about where she has seen her.

“…I have a question.” she said, looking at Pearline.

“Go ahead.” she replied.

“You said “one of his twin cousins” earlier.”

“Yeah. I did. Why?”

“…who are the twins? Feels like I’m missing something…but I’m also aware?” she stated, feeling herself body getting hot.

Why does it feel like deja vu is happening… she utters to herself.

“You never heard of the SmokeStack Twins? Especially in Chicago? They like to run around, terrorizing people while making deals. Why?”

Smoke….Stack….Twins. SmokeStack Twins. Smoke and Stack!, she utters, her body getting hotter.

Valerie begins to tremble, stumbling back a bit as Pearline watches, a worrying look on her face.

“Val, are you okay?” she asks, attempting to reach her to keep her stable.

“I think I need to g—“ was all Valerie could get out.

Suddenly, as she was turning, she runs into something hard, causing her to tumble forward but keep her on her feet.

She pushes herself back up, but whatever she ran into keeps her up, with a pair of hands holding her up as she comes back to herself.

“Damn, girl! You almost knocked yourself out running into m….” said the familiar, thick Southern accent voice, trailing off with the last word.

As Valerie opens her eyes, she sees the face that broke her heart three years ago, causing her to take her own life. Hair slicked back, mustache bushy, a little more older but still sculpted, lips still full and his mouth slight opened, showing off the gold grillz in his mouth.

Stack.

“Elias?” she blurts out, her mind going blank as she watches his lip tremble.

“Valerie? Is this…this really you?” he asked, tears beginning to form.

Valerie nods, feeling herself get emotional as he pulls her in an embrace, hugging her tightly. She hugs him back, hearing his heartbeating fast and his cedarwood patchouli scent invading her airwaves

She missed this. She missed how he felt, how he smelled, and how he looked. This was the man she knew from home.

Now she’s in his home.

“I thought…..thought you died?” he whispered, looking down at her. “We were at your funeral and all…”

“Um…..no.” as she pulls back. “I..I survived that jump. And swam to shore. Ran away because I was too…embarrassed to show that um…” she says, hearing herself getting choked up.

“It’s okay.” he said, squeezing hand. “It’s a miracle you’re still with us. Surprised you’re even here. At me and Smoke’s juke joint!” he exclaims, holding his arm up.

Still the same ole Stack. Just as I remember, she said, smiling.

She knows him?, said Pearline, eyeing him a bit.

Smoke is gonna freak out when he finds out you alive, said Stack, a bastardly smile on his face as he looks Valerie up and down.

“You know ole girl here, right?” said Pearline, sucks the moment out.

Mary.

“She is?!” he said, annoyance in his voice as he looked across the room and sees her taking to Sammie, trying to get away from him.

“Yeah. But I can go distract her so Sammie isn’t doing it by himself if you want.”

“Please do. Me and um…Valerie, have a lot to catch up on.” he said, keeping a lustful gaze on Valerie.

“Will do. See you later, Valerie.” said Pearline as she squeezes Val’s shoulder and walks to Sammie, with Valerie watching.

You too. Cause I’m damn sure not missing out on messing with you and Preacher Boy, she said before turning back to Stack.

“Let’s go somewhere private, shall we?” he said, pulling her to walk.

Her stomach growls, pausing her movement.

Girl, you just ate a whole body an hour ago. How you hungry again?!, she yelps, grabbing her stomach.

“I would love to. But maybe we should get some food and drinks as well?” she asks, smiling a bit.

Stack nods, looking at Sammie and Pearline perfectly distracting Mary before looking back at Valerie.

“Alright. I did promise you I was going to introduce you to Annie’s cooking. She got some good ass catfish right now.” he says as they begin walking, arms hooked.

“I bet. That Grace lady said they also got some sides too.” she added, hearing him laugh.

“Yup. Different rices. Greens. Even pickled garlic.”

Valerie’s stomach kicked in, having an uneasy reaction to the mention of garlic.

“Can’t do that. I’m allergic, unfortunately.” she reveals, lying through her teeth.

“What?! Last time I saw you, you were saying garlic is the best damn thing to have in the kitchen, girl!” he yelps, shocked at that reveal.

“Well…a lot of things have changed since we last each other.” she states shrugging her shoulders.

He nods, pulling her close.

“You ain’t wrong.” as he leans in. “Cause last time I seen you….your eyes was a bit darker and brown. Now they are hazel green?” he asks with a confused look on his face.

She chuckles, looking down to hold in her laugh.

“Wait until I tell you about my medical condition. Trust me. It’s a long story.” she said, stretching the last part out.

“Oh trust. We got enough time in the world right now.” he said, looking at her with admiration.

Even in a dead body, she can feel that he has never lost the love he had for her. Which makes her feel very special in this moment in this moment at the juke joint.

They walk up to the kitchen, where he formally introduces her to Annie, who greets her with a warm smile. He had her make Valerie’s plate, where he tells her to avoid the garlic as she is now allergic to them.

As she watches, she notices that she can’t hear Annie’s thoughts, which she thought was strange. They go to Grace and Lucinda, where he orders them both Irish Beers while keeping his gaze on her.

After grabbing the drinks, he takes her to the poker room, where he gets them a table in the corner, a perfect way to hide from anyone he doesn’t want to be seen by.

Especially Mary.

Stack says a quick prayer before they begin indulging, both moaning at the crispness and well seasoned food in front of them.

“Annie sure can cook.” said Valerie, dipping her piece of catfish into hot sauce before biting it.

“Told you! That’s why we always rely on her to make food cause we do not trust anyone’s cooking out here.” he replied, biting into his fork of greens.

“Also, when did Annie and….?” as she tilts her head towards Lucinda, who was standing behind the window cooking, making Stack follows her direction.

He chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before clearing his throat.

“Trust me. I was a bit shocked myself at him he saying “Annie’s worker AND girlfriend” when they first arrived.” he replied, making her laugh.

“I see. Well, if they’re happy, I’m not judging.”

Speaking of, he said.

“How you been? I’m still…blown at the fact that you’re alive after we *buried you?” he asked, making her look at him.

“Yeah, it was a mistaken identity thing, apparently. Probably why they didn’t open the casket. From what I was told.” she replied, sipping her drink.

“But. I went to Memphis. Stayed there for almost two years, eating their food. Dancing to their music. Helping out the community.” she added.

And what she meant by helping out was killing all of the rapists, murderers, and predators that targeted primarily women and children. Even some officers who abused their power.

“Then I went back to Chicago and laid low. Was shocked that I still had access to my place. And now…..I’m down here. Eating and drinking, and soon-to-be dancing at Club Juke!” she stated, laughing a bit at the last part.

Stack nods, a small smile on his face, looking like a proud man watching someone he admires doing something good.

“That’s good to hear that you’re doing something with your life.” he said with a grin.

“What about you?” she asked, turning her body towards him.

Stack looks down, taking in her legs before looking back up, seeing her eyeing him seductively.

“We finally got out of Chicago. Capone went down, the city started falling apart, and well…North Side can’t really fix the mess they and South Side caused.” he replied.

“Is that how you and Smoke managed to steal Irish Beer and Italian Wine from both sides?” she asked, sipping her drink.

“They won’t notice since they hate each other. Especially since they can’t tell us apart, which makes it even more fun for us.” he replied, eating a piece of the catfish.

“That seems to be a common thing you like to say. Makes me wonder…”

“Wonder what?” he said, instantly squinting his eyes.

Valerie laughs, amused at how angry he’s slowly getting over a simple sentence.

“Is this really Stack? Or did you two trade places so the real one can avoid not just me because he still doesn’t forgive himself for what happened between us and the result of it. But Mary as well.” she utters, resting her chin on her hand while looking at him.

Stack looks away, his face twitching as he feels her intense stare burning the side of his face. His heart races, causing butterflies to flutter in his stomach.

I would never do some shit like that with Smoke. Considering how much I can’t stand Annie, he uttered, clearing his throat.

Annie too womanly for you? Cause she doesn’t act like a dog chasing…, Valerie utters, disgust flowing in her head.

“You know her momma passed, right?” he revealed.

Valerie scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“You think I give a fu—“ she exclaimed but is cut off by him.

“I know you don’t care.” he stated. “Especially after how she treated you. And um, we ended.” he said, looking down.

The two sat in silence as the piano and crowding cheering grows louder as Smoke passes by in the doorway, not noticing them.

Why is it so awkward to talk to you? I don’t get it, he uttered.

Guilt, she responded.

“How’s Hollie?” she asked, biting into her piece of catfish.

“Woah.” Stack said as he places his hand on her leg, leaning forward.

“Don’t….don’t bring her up in here. Its already bad that Mary’s here, let along you being in here too.” he said in a low tone voice as he moved his hand closer to her thigh.

Valerie felt her lips clenched, feeling the effects of his deep voice slowly taking over and her fangs almost coming out, but she stops herself.

“…she nor Annie knows, huh?” she replied.

“And they never will as long as you keep your mouth shut. You hear me?” he said, getting closer.

Valerie leans forward, closing in the distance between them.

“Annie won’t care cause they were separated, so she got someone else to fill in her needs. Mary on the other hand….” she says in a low tone voice.

“That’s all on you because you made that bed and it’s trying your best to destroy it. But I know deep down inside, you do really love her because even when you’re avoiding her, she keeps you excited. And I can feel it brewing off of you because I know you.” as she leans in for a kiss.

As Stack is about to kiss her, she pulls back, removing his hand and going back to normal as if nothing happened.

“I just wanna know when’s the last time you seen Hollie, that’s all.” she states in her normal voice.

Stack looks down, attempting to laugh the pain away, but fails. He’s in disbelief that she curved him just like that.

“Last time we seen her was at your funeral. Told us that she was going back to New York to become a showgirl, leaving everything she did in Chicago behind.” he said, taking out a cigarette to smoke.

“Ever wanted to go there?” she asked, finishing her rice and greens.

“Yeah. Might go on my own this time.” as he finish his drink.

“You should.”

“How come?”

“Elias….” as she wraps her hand around his arm. “How long are you gonna continue dragging Elijah into everything? Lord knows the man is tired.”

“How would you know?” as he lights up the cigarette, smoking it. “You just came back tonight. After being a dead woman walking for years.”

“Because he saves your ass each time something happens to you. Seems like he gotta lead you every single way he can.”

“You watch your mouth.”

“Or what?” as she leans forward. “You’re gonna get him to harm me? Since you’re too scared to do it yourself?”

“I ain’t scared of nothing” as he leans forward. “Especially you.”

Valerie laughs, grabbing his smoke ridden face.

“Yet…that night we shared after that shootout told a different story.” she said, tracing over his lips.

She can hear him growling low before grabbing his hand with the cigarette, bringing it to her mouth. She inhaling, blowing the smoke into his face, watching him blink as she lets go.

She’s playing hard to get, he utters.

I sure am.

“It did. Because you’re remembering it wrong.” he said, licking his lips.

“Oh, I am?” she asked, watching him laugh.

“Yeah. Cause remember we were running away from the cops…” he begins, adjusting his seat.

The music, crowd cheering and dancing, and the the men playing poker fades around them as Stack retells the night from his view.

Saint Valentine’s Day 1929

Swinging the door open, Valerie and Stack run inside, with the latter shutting and locking the the door fast, guarding it.

Hold up his gun, he looks at Valerie, who is leaned against the wall, catching her breath.

“Remind me to wear flats next time cause boy, I’m not strong enough to run in heels.” she said as she removed them.

“And look at the hole in my favorite purple dress!” she hisses, looking at the tattered fabric between her legs.

“I’ll get you a new one.” he replied softly as he removed his shoes.

Stack walks to the window, peeping behind the curtains. Watching the cops run by, he puts his gun on the table, removing his jacket as Valerie throws her shawl on the chair.

“And there will probably not be a next time after that shit that happened.” he replied, looking at her.

“You might be right. They been looking for reason to take out Capone and this might do him in.” she said, turning to walk into the kitchen.

“Which means I’ll be finally free for a bit. Until me and Smoke come up with our next move.”

Valerie shakes her head as she smiles, taking out two glass cups from the cabinet.

“You already have a concept of a plan while not wondering if your brother made it out.” she said, taking out a water pitcher from the fridge.

“I know he made it out.” as he unbuttons his shirt, removing it and placing it near his jacket, leaving him in his undershirt.

“How you know?” she asks as she pours water into each glass.

“He said he was gonna be the first out when he arrives with the Irish folks, making sure he doesn’t get caught in the ambush. Just as we were coming to the floor, I saw him hop in a car and drove out, making sure he has an alibi in case they come looking for him.” he replied, walking towards her.

“Hm.” is all she said as she hands him a glass before picking hers up.

Stack takes it, drinking a bit of it before leaning against her fridge, staring at her.

“Do I fall anywhere into your plan?” she asks, jump onto the counter to sit down.

“Yeah, if you’re willing to leave.” he replied, his voice getting a little sleepy.

“Always a catch with you.” she said, drinking some of her water.

“Cause I know you love it here so much. But no matter where I go…..I’ll always come back to see you.”

“Even if it’s on the other side of the world?” as she spreads her legs open, feeling him look down.

“Even if I’m only 10 minutes away.” he replied, finishing the rest of his glass.

Valerie smiles, laying her head back as she places her glass next to her, feeling herself getting hot.

“Come here.” she whispers, motioning him to come to her.

Stack places his glass on the counter as he walks to her, getting between her legs as she looks at him, rubbing her hands over his shoulders, feeling the muscular curves around it.

“Like what you see?” he asks in a low tone, tensing a bit as she traces over his chest.

“Always.” as she slides her hand up his shirt, tracing his abs.

Stacks growls, wrapping his hand around her neck as he lifts her face up, hearing her whimper as he leans in, a few feet away from her lips.

“Val?”

“Yes, Elias?”

“..I love you.” he admits, looking at her with lust in his eyes.

“…I love you too.” she replied, looking at him.

Stack smiles before placing his lips over hers, giving her a sloppy kiss. The lovers fight over dominance while breathing hard and rubbing over each other, but Stack gets the upper hand by lifting Valerie up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.

Gently laying her on the bed, Stack breaks the kiss, helping her remove her dress by ripping it in half, hearing her squeal.

“Told you I’ll get you a new one.” he said, kisses her once more.

Valerie giggles as she sat up, helping Stack remove his undershirt before reaching down to unbuckle the belt and remove it, watching him remove his pants. She can see an outline of his throbbing dick through his underwear, precum leaking through.

He climbs back onto the bed, hovering over her as he begins kissing her neck. She moans softly as he trails down to her breasts, taking one into his mouth while wrapping his hand around the other one, fondling it.

“Just like that.” she whispers, rubbing his head as he flicks her nipple with his tongue, sucking back on it.

He moves to the other one, moving his hand to the one he finished as he engulfs the other one, slightly biting down. He hears her panting hard as he removes himself, letting out a POP! sound.

“You ready for me?” he asks, tracing his fingers over her underwear.

Valerie nods, feeling him grab her underwear and yank it off in one motion. He lowers him onto his chest, placing one leg over his shoulder and the other under his arm as he touches her clit, watching her clench around air.

“Oh, you been waiting for me to taste you huh?” he says, letting out a deep, dark chuckle.

He began sucking her clit as he inserts his index and middle fingers inside her, rubbing around the softness. Valerie moans, wrapping her hand around his head.

“Hey.” as he slaps her thigh, making her wince. “Eyes on me while I’m down here. You know the rules.”

“Yeah, yeah.” is what she said before pushing his face back into her pussy, making eye contact.

Stack begins sucking hard as his fingers plunge in and out of her at a fast pace, making her let out a few *fucks and louder moans as she fondles her breast with her free hand.

The sounds of her essence gushing, her hard panting, his low groaning, and the bed creaking fills the bedroom as she feels herself getting closer and closer to release.

“Stack, you’re about to make me lose it!” she utters, tears forming in her eyes.

He removes his mouth, watching her tremble as he curves his fingers, feeling her grip getting tighter around them.

“That’s it.” as he rubs his thumb around her clit. “Let it all out. Don’t hold back from me, baby.” he whispers.

On cue, she releases, squirting out her essence and body spazzing as Stack holds his tongue out, feeling some of it hit it. Her breathing is out of control as the room spins around her blurry vision, feeling her high coming down.

Stack laps up some of her essence around her before standing up, kissing her leg in the process. He pulls down his underwear, where his hard, throbbing dick sprangs free, kicking them to the side.

Just as he was about to insert himself, she sits up, grabbing his dick and stroking it, watching him wince.

“Valerie, you don’t have to do this.” he said, trying to remove her hand.

“You say that every time we fuck, but doesn’t stop me.” she replied, slapping his hand away.

He holds his hands up as he watches her, leave a trail of her spit across his shaft, rubbing it around before taking him into her mouth, hearing him groan.

“Maybe I should stop saying that.” he mumbled, looking down at her as she begins bobbing her head.

Her saliva begins coating his shaft, making her up her pace as his tip touches the back of her throat, her almost gagging. She wraps her hands around the rest that can’t fit in her mouth and begins stroking it.

Stack holds her hair up, fondling his nipple as she swirls her tongue around his tip, keeping her eyes on him.

”You like when you’re sucking me off, don’t you?” he asks, his breathing coming out hard.

Valerie lets out a moan as she speeds up, filling her mess, dripping onto her chest as Stack moans, feeling himself getting close.

“I know you want my seed down your throat.” he utters in an aggressive tone.

Suddenly, he removes her from his dick, watching her pant hard as he looks at how dazed out she is. He taps a tip on her tongue, rubbing it over her lips.

“But I don’t wanna wait all night to fuck you.” he says, stepping back.

Valerie laughs before turning on her stomach, putting her ass in the air with her feet hanging off the bed.

“Come get it then, Eli.” she said, shaking her ass a bit.

Stack smirks as he walks up and gets on the bed, lowering himself into a crotch. He slaps her ass real hard, hearing her squeal before inserting himself into her pussy, both letting out moans.

“My God, you feel so good stretching me out like this.” she utters, feeling him moving around a bit.

He kisses her back as he wraps his hand around the front of her neck, brings her up to his chest. He begins fucking her, biting her shoulder.

“Fuck…” she moans, wrapping her hand around his arms.

His balls bouncing off her lips from his strokes, creating a sensation she never felt before when they made love. He speeds up his pace, watching her body move hard from him slamming his hips into her, filling her essence dripping on him.

“Mm, you like when I fuck you like this?” he whispers into her ear, hearing her whimper.

“Yes. Only you can do me like this!” she yelps, feeling him brush over a sweet spot.

“Good! No other motherfucker will ever touch what belongs to me.” as he goes at a rapid pace, hearing her scream.

Valerie falls forward, feeling herself go limp but stays in position as Stack wraps his hands around her waist, keeping himself up.

“Oh baby…..why are you doing me like this?” she moans, throwing herself back to match his pace.

“Because this is not a regular session between me and you.” as he goes deeper. “This is me showing you how much I deeply care about you.” he admits, removing his hands.

Valerie smiles, in awe of him while he is breaking her pussy like she owns him something, becoming enchanted by his spell.

“I’m getting close.. getting close!” she yelps, him continuously hitting her sweet spot a few times.

Stack gives her one final stroke before she cums again, watching her essence coat his dick her body pushing it all out as she moans, the pleasure consuming her. He pulls out, gently taps her pussy before laying on his back, adjusting a pillow under his head.

”Ride me, baby.” he says, stroking his dick.

She catches her breath for a few minutes before crawling to him, hovering over his body. She lowers herself onto him, feels him stretching her out once again, making her wince.

“You okay? We can do something else if it feels uncomfortable.” he said, lifting himself up but she stops him.

“No, no.” as she shakes her head. “You feel good, Stack. Just catching my breath.”

He nods as she begins moving her hips, creating a rhythm with him as she slowly wrapped her hands around his neck.

“Like that.” she mumbles, placing one of his hands on one of her breasts before returning it back to his neck.

He moans, squeezing her breast gently as she bounces up and down on his dick, slamming herself into him each time, clenching him.

“Fuck.” he whispers, feeling her squeeze his neck hard as she slaps his face, catching him off guard.

“What the hell, Valerie?!” he yelps, the sting brewing on his face as she laughs.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.” she replied, slapping him once more.

He groans, trying to hide how much he actually did enjoy that. He slaps her ass, feeling her quickening up her pace as she moans. She can feel him twitching inside, making her smirk.

“Fuck me, Elias.” as she slaps him once more “You know you wanna cum.” she says, pulling him up to his chest.

He wraps his arms around her waist and slightly lifts her up as he begins pounding underneath her, both moaning loud enough in the neighbors to hear.

“Alright. That’s an offer I can take up.” he utters, slamming continuously over and over as he was slowly losing feeling in his lower half.

These two were both going all out the show how much one cares about the other while making sure their needs are also being met.

Valerie makes out with Stack, his hip, slowing down as another release went up, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“Cum in me, please.” she utters, feeling herself tightening.

“You sure?” he asks, moving her hips in a circular motion.

“I wanna feel all of you.” she admits, about to pass out.

Stack nods with a greedy smile before giving her a few more strokes until they both release at the same time, him letting out expletives and her letting out moans for the last time. His dick twitches inside her as he pumps out all of his seed while she squirts all over him.

The lovers lay in each other’s arms, both catching their breaths as the moonlight shines on them, the cool air hitting their skin.

“…promise me you won’t forget me.” she says in a sleepy tone.

Stack looks up, rubbing his chin over her chest as he kisses her.

“I promise I’ll never forget you. Ever.”

Valerie smiled, give him another kiss before falling asleep in his embrace.

Valerie stares in a daze, the memory on a loop as Stack snaps his fingers, snapping her out of her faze.

“Jesus.” she whispers, looking away in embarrassment.

“You okay?” he asks, amusement in his tone.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Just wondering. Cause you’re drooling.”

Valerie touches her face, feeling wetness around her mouth. She grabs a napkin and wipes her mouth, hearing him laugh.

“But. You didn’t forget that night either.” he added, eyeing her.

”Who wouldn’t? That was the last positive memory I have of us before you left me.” she said, looking down.

I knew she was gonna bring that up, he said.

“…I fucked up, didn’t I?” he asked.

“You did.” as she shook her head.

She can feel tears begin to form in her chest, beginning to burn as she looks up, not wanting to look at him.

“I understand. Nobody really gets over their first love. But I wished you.…” as her voice trails off.

Her breathing becomes pitchy as images of her seeing Stack kiss Mary in a dark alleyway, their argument that lead to their breakup, and her a few moments before jumping into the Chicago River plays in her mind.

“Forget it.” she said as she got up, quickly wiping that tear as she fixed her shawl.

“Valerie, wait.” he says as he tries to grab her, but she steps back.

“Nice seeing you again.” she utters as she begins to walk.

She sees him getting up to follow her, but she stops at the entrance.

You have to tell him about that Klan member, she utters, the memory of him revealing the killing field plan playing.

“I have to tell you something so that you and Smoke are aware.” as she turns around to face him.

Stack looks at her, a glaring expression on his face.

“What is it?”

“That man who sold you this place? What’s his name?” she asks, seeing his face relax.

“Hogwood.” as he sighs. “Why?”

“Hogwood. He’s the local Kl—“ is all she could get out before loud stomping cuts her off.

Mary, now heated, walks into the room, shoving Stack back.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you all night, but Sammie and Pearline were stalling me.” she utters in irritation.

Stack, shocked that she shoved him, looks at her before looking at Valerie, causing her to turn around and be shocked at her standing there.

“Valerie?!” she yells. “You were with her?!”

Stack shushes her and pulls her back as Valerie laughs, backing out through the entrance as Mary becomes louder with yelling at him.

“I’m gonna leave you two to talk. Nice to see you again, Elias.” said Valerie as she walks away

Mary pops her head out, with Stack struggling to hold her back.

“I thought you was dead?! But, here you are, talking to my man?!” she yells, but the loud music shuns her, no one paying attention as Stack pulls her back into the room.

Valerie shakes her head, walking up to Lucinda as she takes out money from her top.

“A refill on the Irish beer, please.” as she puts a few coins on the table.

Lucinda nods as she hands her one, taking the coins.

“By the way. I was actually here for Stack. Sorry if I made it seem like it was for Smoke.” she said, taking the drink.

Before Lucinda could say anything, Valerie walks off, heading to where Pearline and Sammie were sitting as they watched Slim play.

“Missed anything important?” she said, both looking at her instantly.

“Almost. Sammie about to perform.” said Pearline, rubbing his shoulder.

“Well, I made it just in time.” she said, winking at Sammie.

“What was you and Stack discussing?” he asked, tuning his guitar.

“Old business from when I was still in Chicago that might get me on trial if I go into detail.” she said as she stands next to Pearline, sipping her drink.

All three laugh until Sammie and Pearline stopped, fear growing upon their face. Valerie looks at them confused until she hears loud footsteps behind her, making her lower her drink.

“Well I‘ll be damned.” said a familiar, deeper thick Southern accent voice.

She sees smoke fumes blow out from her left, which tells her who it is standing behind her.

“Nice to see you again, Smoke.” she says as she turns around, see him standing there.

Smoke whistles, taking in her look before hugging her, with her doing the same back.

“Thought Stack was lying when he said you were here! I thought he was lying because we were at your f…” he says, trailing off with his last word.

He sees Sammie and Pearline sitting behind her as she looks at him, waiting for him to say the next part.

I don’t think I should bring up the funeral in front of them, he utters.

Thank god.

“Fair!” he yelps. “The Chicago City Fair! Val here used to throw good fairs to help out the people who couldn’t go to the upstate ones. Always seemed like a hero to everyone up there.” he added, smiling at her.

“That sounds amazing.” said Sammie, Pearline nodding.

“Maybe Clarksdale can get that.” she said.

“Love to do that! Just point me to y’all council and we can set it off….non-gangster style.” said Valerie, making everyone laugh.

“Damn….when did your eyes turn green?” asked Smoke, looking at them.

“Caught a medical condition out in Memphis. Thought he was lying when he said your eyes might turn a different shade if it gets worse, but here I am with hazel green eyes now.” she replied.

“Well. I’m glad you’re here at our Club Juke. Hope you enjoy Sammie’s performance.” he said, squeezing her hand.

“Will do.”

Smoke nods at Pearline and Sammie before walking to Annie, with Valerie sighing in relief.

Thank god Smoke the one with the brains.

The audience erupts into cheers once more Slim stands up, taking a bow.

“Thank y’all, thank y’all!” he says, smiling gleefully.

“Now for this next performance, I’m bringing on a young cat that’s from around here.” he added, smiling big.

“He’s one of the finest blues guitar players around here and has a little song for us to hear. So give a big old welcome to the stage: Sammie Moore!” he exclaims, ushering Sammie to come up.

The crowd erupts into cheers as Sammie get up and walk to the stage.

“Let’s go get a better view.” said Pearline as she grabs Valerie’s hand and pull her to walk with her.

Valerie laughs as she’s pulled through the crowd, with the women taking a position next to a pole, having a clear view of Sammie.

“Hello. I’m Sammie Moore. Also known as Preacher Boy since my daddy is a preacher. I’m a sharecropper on a little plantation around here. So I wrote this little song for him and hope y’all like it.” Sammie said as he begins playing the guitar.

He walks down the stairs, greeting some people as he begins to sing.

Something I been wanting to tell you

For a long time

It might hurt you, as he looks at Pearline and Valerie.

Hope you don't lose your mind

Well, I was just a boy, as some people begin stomping their feet.

Bout eight years old

You threw me a Bible

On that Mississippi road

“Mm.” said Valerie, nodding her head to the song.

See, I love ya, Papa

You did all you could do

They say the truth hurts

So I lie to you, as he moves the guitar around.

Yes, I lied to you

I love the blues, as he smiles.

Valerie looks back, sees Stack watching the performance, with Mary next to him a few feet away. She turns forward, taking a big sip as Sammie sings his next part.

Mm-mm

Suddenly, the room because a little brighter as Valerie watches everyone, including Pearline, began to dance.

Oh, mm-mm, as Slim joins him on the piano, playing a tune to accompany it as the band follows.

Hey

Somebody take me, as he drags out each note, surprising both women.

In your arms tonight

Well alright

“Alright.” said Pearline, making Valerie smile.

Somebody take me

In your arms tonight

Yeah, yeah, as Pearline takes the drink out of Valerie’s hand and drags her to the center of the floor.

“Pearline, I don’t dance, so I think Ima go—“ is what Valerie could get out before Pearline cuts her off.

“Follow me. And don’t do it too hard.” she said, kissing her cheek.

Valerie blushes, following each move Pearline does as Sammie continues singing the song.

Somebody take me in your arms tonight

As he begins his next part, the room darkens and becomes a blurry vision to Valerie, which confuses her as it looks oblivious to everyone around her except Sammie.

What is going on? Why does it feel like I’m in someone else’s vision?

As Valerie turns her head, she sees an African dancer run past them as two African music players perform their music around Sammie. She’s in awe, seeing how beautiful they look playing their music next to him.

Mm-mm, as Sammie stands next to her, passionately singing his song.

A man dressed in glam plays an electric guitar on her other side, startling her. She notices he ain’t wearing the same clothes that they are currently wearing, confusing her even more.

“…..is this Sam’s mind I’m in?” she asked, but no one seems to hear her.

Somebody take me in your arms tonight, as a gospel choir appears on stage while the electric guitar gets louder.

Alright, as he walks around, getting even more passionate with his playing.

Pearline dances away as Valerie stands there, trying to figure out how she’s the only one seeing this, very impressed.

The guitar player walks through her, which shocks her. She runs up to the choir, and swings her across them. Her arm goes through them as well, making her step back.

These are spirits, she mumbles. These are his spirits that he has woken up. Meaning it’s the past, the current, and the future in this room right now.

Somebody take me in your—Hey!

A hip-hop beat drops, with Sammie’s vocals mixing in with it.

Valerie turns around, seeing a man breakdancing around where Sammy is walking. Looking up, she sees a man behind a DJ booth, spinning the song.

She smiles, amazed at what’s she seeing and how the future is gonna change a lot for their people.

Until a sharp pain shoots through her chest, causing her to fall to the ground, grabbing it. It gets worse, causing her to whine a bit.

“Help!” she yells, but no one seems to hear her.

As she looks up, she sees everyone dancing, missing her somehow. A few more spirits, including two Xiqu dancers, run next to her, jumping and dancing around room.

Valarie lays there, paralyzed to the floor as the roof catches on fire, with the parts falling onto her. She tries to move, but fails miserably.

“Why can’t no one see that the roof is on fire?!” she yells louder.

But once again, no one hears her.

A burning wood breaks off and is about to hit her, make her close her eyes.

However, nothing happens.

When she wakes up, the building is completely gone, but everyone is still dancing as Sammie, Slim, and the band are still playing. But there’s no sound.

Valerie gets up, looking around the burned area as she sees Pearline dancing with Annie, Lucinda, and Smoke as Stack and Mary dance with each other.

As she looks to her left side, she sees three white people standing so far away, each has glowing eyes. The middle one, a middle aged man focuses directly on Sammie, smiles as his eyes are red and his fangs are out.

Remmick. Oh no.

Just she was about to say something, she is knocked out by a shadow, causing her to fall to the ground.

When she wakes up, she’s leaned up against the pole. Everything is back to normal as the crowd is cheering, amazed at the performance Sammie gave, with Pearline clapping the hardest.

“Wow, he did amazing.” said Pearline, looking at her.

“What….what happened?” asked Valerie, dryness in her tone.

“Damn, girl. All that dancing you were doing took you out.” she said, laughing a bit.

“What? You didn’t say what I saw?” Valerie asked, a confused expression on her face.

“We all did. Sammie hitting notes, everyone dancing and vibing. But you were clearly having a good time.” Pearline replied, kissing her.

Valerie is caught off guard and breaks the kiss, very bewildered. She also realizes she can’t hear her own or anyone else’s thoughts anymore, which is not a good sign.

“…okay, what is going on?” she asks in a frustrated tone.

Valerie looks at her, laughing to herself before wiping her face.

“I think I’m just tripping. I got a little too lost in the dance. I’m fine, I promise.” she replied, grabbing Pearline’s hand and kissing it.

Pearline relaxes, smiling a bit as Sammie comes over.

“He comes our star.” she says, before facing him.

Valerie smiles before looking out of the window, feeling something bad is about to happen. She brushes it off, focusing her attention back on Sammie and Pearline.

Far, far away, in the foggy night, stands Remmick. Along with his two members, they stand on the dirt road, listening to the loud music. He smiles brightly, as his eyes are glowing red and his fangs are out.

“That’s our boy.” he says. “Let’s go get him.”

The other two smile as they begin to walk towards the location, with Remmick’s evil laugh filling in the darkness of the sound.

A/N II: Whew. This was a long one, but it was definitely worth it! Hope you enjoyed it and as always, thank you for reading this! If you want to join the tag list, let me know.

🏷️ : @iloveekeiarah @childishgambinaax @ziayamikaelson @ssamm1984

[nottswitch]

— moondust ; series

there’s nothing that i can do…

summary: mattheo has always had only one person in the world to care for – himself. when he suddenly realizes that it’s not the case anymore, and his fucked up life can actually fuck up someone else, he doesn’t have a choice but to bury his feelings as deeply as humanly and inhumanly possible.

pairing: mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader

cw: 18+ mdni, angst, war, death, violence, torture, physical injuries, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, extreme slowburn, very heavy pining, cursing, drinking, smoking, smut (read warnings for each part)

a/n: this series is going to be a tough pill to swallow emotionally, so read responsibly. no heavy topics mentioned are romanticized. the entire thing is inspired by moondust by jaymes young, the most mattheo song in existence.

…except bury my love for you

PART I

— as the school year starts, you notice a familiar presence in your life. mattheo riddle has never said a single word or made a sound in your direction, yet his shadow constantly lingers at the corner of your eye. | 1.6k

PART II

coming soon…

PART III

PART IV

PART V

PART VI

PART VII

PART VIII

PART IX

PART X

⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; mattheo m.list

[itwillbethescarletwitch]

Wreakage

bob floyd x fem!reader

warning: mentions of death

Bob’s living room was lit only by the warm flicker of the television and the low lamp in the corner. A quiet movie played, but neither of them was watching. They were tangled together on the couch, her head resting against his chest, his thumb drawing soft circles into her shoulder.

It had been months. Real months. Real love. Not the kind that fizzles out when you see each other in daylight. The kind that grows roots.

Still, there was one thing—several things, really—she had never said. And tonight, something about the way he held her made her want to stop hiding.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Bob looked down at her, eyes soft and steady. “Of course.”

She sat up a little, fidgeted with the blanket on her lap. Her throat was tight. “It’s kind of heavy.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll carry it with you.”

She exhaled shakily, fingers knotting and unknotting. “I didn’t want to fall in love with you. At first. Not because of you. Because… I thought it would kill me.”

Bob went still, watching her with unwavering attention.

“I had a boyfriend a few years ago. He was a Formula One driver. Big, famous, fast. We weren’t together long, but it was… it was intense. And then he crashed during a race. A mechanical failure. It was horrific. I was there, in the paddock. I watched the car spin out. I saw the smoke. I felt it in my bones before they even told me.”

Her voice cracked. She didn’t stop.

“He didn’t die right away. It was weeks. Weeks of surgeries, machines, hopes getting raised and crushed. And then he was gone. Just… gone.”

Bob reached for her hand. She let him take it.

“And before that,” she continued, “when I was sixteen, my first love—my childhood boyfriend—he died by suicide. He had depression. He never told me. His mom found him. He left a note for me.”

Tears spilled quietly. Bob didn’t say anything, didn’t try to fix it. He let it hang in the silence, his hand still wrapped around hers.

“I didn’t think I’d ever open myself up again. Not to anyone. Then you showed up and… you were kind. And patient. And safe. You made me want to try.”

Bob blinked slowly, clearly holding back tears of his own. “I’m honored that you told me,” he said, voice thick. “I can’t imagine how hard that was. But I’m glad you trusted me with it.”

She nodded, throat tight. “I didn’t want to keep it from you. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“You said it perfectly.”

He kissed her knuckles. Then her forehead.

“And now I want to tell you something, too.”

———

Three months later. The Hard Deck was alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and music that hummed under the sound of crashing waves. Everyone was there—Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, Payback, Fanboy, Mav, even Hondo. Bob and Y/N had just wrapped a joint mission sim. The mood was light. Everyone was celebrating.

She looked stunning—hair down, skin golden in the sunset, wearing the worn Navy sweatshirt Bob always gave her when she got cold. She was barefoot, drink in hand, teasing Bob for getting caught in a G-lock scenario during the sim.

“You know what your problem is?” she said, smirking as they stood near the bar.

“Oh, please enlighten me,” Bob replied, grinning.

“You trust your tech too much. You’re supposed to trust your gut, Lieutenant.”

“And your gut says what?” he challenged.

“That I could fly your F-18 better than you.”

The group laughed. Hangman whistled. “She’s got you there, Floyd.”

Bob flushed, playing along. “Oh yeah? Maybe if you didn’t scream during turbulence—”

“Excuse me!” she gasped.

He raised his hands. “I’m just saying—”

“It was one time, and that was on a commercial flight over Kansas in a thunderstorm—”

They were all laughing. It was harmless. It was fun. Until Bob tried to go for the final blow. A smartass joke to win the teasing round.

“Well, with your track record,” he said, shrugging casually, “I should probably start prepping for a crash of my own.”

The entire bar went quiet.

Phoenix looked confused. “Wait—what?”

Rooster blinked. “What does that even mean?”

Her heart stopped. She froze.

Her glass slowly lowered to the counter.

“What did you just say?” she said, voice sharp.

Bob paled. “I—I was joking—”

She stepped back like he’d slapped her. “No. Say it again. Say it in front of all of them.”

“Y/N…” His voice was low, panicked. “I didn’t mean—”

“I told you that in confidence,” she spat. “I told you privately about my past. About the people I’ve lost. And you think it’s a punchline?”

The rest of the group looked at each other—concerned, confused.

“What’s going on?” Phoenix asked, stepping forward.

Y/N’s eyes shimmered, fury and betrayal clashing in her chest.

“You wanna know what’s going on?” she hissed. “I told Bob that both of my exes died. One in a brutal, drawn-out wreck. The other took his own life. I told him that because I trusted him.”

Everyone went still.

“And he just turned that into a fucking joke.”

The group’s faces changed instantly—shock melting into anger.

Hangman’s voice dropped cold. “What the hell, Floyd.”

Rooster shoved off the bar. “Are you serious right now?”

Phoenix stared at Bob like he was a stranger. “You said that knowing?”

Bob was frozen. Pale. Lips parted but silent.

“I can’t even look at you,” she said, chest heaving. “I trusted you with the worst parts of me. And you used them to win a bar argument.”

“Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to—”

“No. You did mean it. Maybe not in the way you think. But you meant it. And now I do too—I’m done.”

She stormed past the crowd, out the front doors and into the night.

The wind whipped her hair around as she stomped down to the beach, the surf crashing in rhythm with her heart. Her hands were trembling. Her lungs felt like they were folding in on themselves.

She yanked the necklace Bob gave her off her neck and hurled it into the waves.

Footsteps crunched in the sand behind her.

“Y/N—”

“Go away.”

It was Phoenix. Alone.

“Please don’t chase me. I need to breathe.”

Phoenix stopped a few paces back. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m not,” she snapped, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “I’m not okay. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to be consoled. And I sure as hell don’t want him anywhere near me.”

“Understood,” Phoenix said softly. “We’re here if you need anything.”

She nodded once. Then walked further down the shoreline alone, disappearing into the night.

Back at the bar, no one spoke to Bob. Not a word.

Not Hangman. Not Rooster. Not even Hondo.

Phoenix returned later, cold and furious. “Don’t call her. Don’t text her. Don’t try to fix it. Just stay the hell away.”

Bob stood there in the empty bar, surrounded by the fallout of what he’d destroyed with one thoughtless sentence.

———

It had been forty-five days. Six weeks and three days since she left Bob standing on the beach, his hands empty and his soul gutted.

She hadn’t planned to go back. She hadn’t planned to feel anything again.

Then she checked her mail.

At first, she thought it was a mistake. A stack of cream-colored envelopes, each one dated. None with a return address. All addressed in his familiar, looping handwriting.

She carried them inside, stunned.

One letter. Then another. Then ten. Then twenty.

They were all from Bob.

He hadn’t texted. He hadn’t emailed. He hadn’t begged.

But he wrote. Every few days. Heart poured out in ink. Some only a few lines. Others several pages. Some were soaked with what she could only imagine were tear stains.

“I think about that night every single time I close my eyes.”

“There’s no excuse. Just regret.”

“You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve me like that.”

“I would give anything to go back. Not to erase what happened—but to be better in the moment when it mattered most.”

“You once said you were afraid to be loved again. And I proved your fear right. I’ll never stop being sorry.”

She sat on her living room floor, surrounded by the wreckage of his remorse, every letter like a piece of him bleeding out into her hands.

That night, the rain came hard—thick sheets of it hammering the rooftop, the sky rumbling like it was angry too.

She didn’t hear the knock at first.

It was soft. Hesitant.

But the second time—louder, more urgent—she froze.

And when she opened the door, there he was.

Soaked to the bone. Hair plastered to his forehead. Shirt clinging to his skin. Eyes full of something like hope and grief and desperation all wrapped into one broken expression.

She stepped out onto the porch, rain pouring all around them.

“Y/N—” he started.

She held up a hand. “Did you think I wasn’t going to see them?”

He blinked. “The letters?”

“I didn’t know you left them. You didn’t even sign most of them.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to read them,” he said softly, rainwater dripping from his jaw. “I just… needed to put the words somewhere. Somewhere close to you.”

“You stood on my porch and dropped off pieces of your soul like love notes,” she whispered.

He didn’t say anything. Just stood there in the storm, his breath visible in the cold.

She took a shaky breath. “Do you know what it felt like, reading those? After everything?”

“No,” he rasped. “But I hope it felt like truth.”

She looked at him—really looked at him. The wet lashes, the trembling shoulders, the silence like a wound between them.

“I don’t forgive you,” she said, voice low but steady.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I needed you to see me trying.”

“I do.”

He exhaled.

“I see it in the way you wrote them like you were bleeding. In the way you never tried to spin it, or justify it. You just… owned it.”

Bob’s lip trembled. He bit it hard.

“Come in from the rain,” she said finally, stepping aside.

He didn’t move right away—afraid it was a trick, maybe.

“Bob,” she murmured.

He looked at her like she was salvation. Then stepped inside.

The door clicked shut behind him.

But neither of them moved. They just stood there—wet, shaking, eyes locked.

“You’re still the safest place I’ve ever known,” she said, voice cracking. “But if you ever use my past against me again, I won’t walk away—I’ll disappear.”

“I’d never deserve you again if I did,” he said hoarsely.

She reached for his hand. He took it like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

The porchlight glowed behind them. Outside, the storm raged on. Inside, they stood in the eye of it—damaged, drenched, and finally, finally beginning to rebuild.

———

Three months later.

She forgave him on a quiet Sunday morning.

No dramatic lead-up. No long-winded speech. Just her, lying next to him in bed, fingers drawing lazy lines across his chest.

“I forgive you,” she whispered, soft enough that the words nearly vanished into the sunlight bleeding through the window.

Bob had stilled beneath her hand.

“What?” he asked, careful. Like the words might break if he moved too fast.

She looked up, resting her chin on his chest. “I said I forgive you.”

He blinked. Just once. Then he exhaled like he’d been holding that breath for months.

His eyes filled. He didn’t say thank you. Didn’t say anything. He just pulled her into him and kissed her like a man finally stepping out of his own prison.

For the next two weeks, everything felt right. Like the world had finally balanced itself again.

They made plans. To drive up the coast. To get a dog. To spend one weekend not talking about work or grief or the past—just them. There was talk of maybe, someday, something permanent. A ring. A home.

She didn’t expect forever.

But she didn’t think two weeks would be all they got.

⸻

The knock came on a Thursday.

Rain drizzled against her window. Her tea was still warm. She’d just texted him: Be safe up there. I love you.

She opened the door to two officers in uniform.

She doesn’t remember what they said.

Only the parts her soul refused to forget.

“Mid-air systems failure.”

“Immediate loss of control.”

“No recovery.”

“Lieutenant Floyd died on impact.”

She hadn’t even gotten a text back.

⸻

The funeral was quiet.

She didn’t wear black. She wore the faded blue sweatshirt of his he always made her return and never really meant it. She kept her hand clenched around the last note he wrote her, the one he left on her nightstand two days before his flight:

“Loving you changed me. I don’t know how long we’ll get, but I promise to never waste it. Not again.”

She read it at the graveside.

She didn’t cry. Not in front of them.

But at night, she sleeps in his side of the bed, buried in the sweatshirt and silence, whispering the same thing over and over again:

“You were forgiven. You were loved. You were so loved.”

Two weeks.

That’s all they got between healing and loss.

And somehow, that made it hurt even more.

Because this time, she was ready to stay.

And he was already gone.

[cup1drul3z]

★ — Keep Me Close

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ : ᴛᴜᴇꜱᴅᴀʏ

ᴘᴏᴘꜱᴛᴀʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʙᴏᴅʏɢᴜᴀʀᴅ!ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ | 6.6ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

TAGS : Age gap, Angst, Masturbation, Car crash mentioned, Drinking, drugs, mental health problems, depression, suicide mentioned

A/N : new chapter woohoo

SUMMARY : After a haunting nightmare of your car crash, you wake to another demanding day—only to be blindsided by a surprise gala appearance. As pressure builds, old trauma, physical pain, and industry expectations collide. You’re forced into a dress that shows the scar you try so hard to hide, and though you’re unraveling, Sevika stays steady—your quiet shield, your silent storm. When the night spirals into danger on the red carpet, she steps in, all muscle and instinct. Back home, things grow quieter... and heavier. She’s just down the hall, and somehow that’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

Everything was quiet at first.

Too quiet.

Then—sound returned all at once. Screeching metal. The pop of something exploding. The sharp hiss of leaking fuel and the distant whoosh of fire catching.

You came to with your world upside down.

Literally.

Your seatbelt dug into your shoulder, holding you suspended in the wrecked shell of the SUV, your hair hanging toward the cracked windshield smeared with blood. Your ears rang like you were underwater. The air was thick with smoke—burnt rubber, gasoline, something acrid that stung your lungs with every shallow breath.

You blinked, once—twice—and then the pain hit.

Your nose was gushing blood, the thick metallic taste already in your throat. Your face throbbed with every heartbeat. Broken? Probably. But it was nothing compared to what you felt next.

Your right leg.

Or… didn’t feel.

You looked down and nearly blacked out again.

The bone had punched clean through your thigh, white and jagged against your shredded leggings. It glistened with blood, the skin around it raw and torn. You couldn’t feel anything below it. Couldn’t move your foot. Could barely breathe.

You tried to scream, but your throat caught on the smoke.

Then you looked left.

The driver—Sara. Your driver for nearly two years. Sweet, sarcastic, a mother of three.

She was gone.

A piece of twisted metal had punched through the windshield and into her skull, pinning her to the seat. Her eyes were still open, blank and wide, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth.

You froze. The horror of it crept up your spine like cold fingers.

Then you screamed.

“Help!” you choked out, raw and panicked. “Somebody— I—I can’t—HELP!”

The flames caught outside, licking across the front of the car. The heat rose fast.

You thrashed once in the seatbelt, body screaming in agony as something in your side gave a sickening crunch.

Still, you screamed louder.

Because no one was coming.

And in that moment—upside down, bleeding, broken—you thought maybe this was it.

Maybe the world was going to end with you burning alive. Alone. Staring into the empty eyes of someone who never even had the chance to say goodbye.

Tuesday Morning

You woke up gasping.

Sheets tangled around your legs, sweat dampening the back of your tank top, breath coming in short, uneven pulls like you'd just run ten miles through fire.

The room was still dim—early morning light just beginning to spill through the tall windows of your bedroom, casting everything in a pale blue hush. You stared at the ceiling for a moment, heart thudding against your ribs, the phantom scent of gasoline still lingering in your nose like it never fully left.

Your hand flew to your face. No blood. No broken nose. Just the dream again.

You swallowed hard and pushed yourself up, wincing as a sharp pain lanced through your ankle first, then deeper—your thigh. The old wound. The one the doctors said you were “lucky” to survive. Lucky.

You stood slowly, legs trembling beneath you, gripping the edge of your vanity for balance. Your reflection stared back at you—gloss-free, curls flattened, eyes heavy and haunted.

You reached for the drawer by your bed and pulled out the pill bottle again. Hydraxin. Your fingers moved fast, familiar. Two pills. A sip from the water on your nightstand. Gone before you could feel guilty about it.

You didn’t go back to bed.

Instead, you limped over to the chaise by the window, grabbed the soft leather-bound journal from beneath a pile of magazines—your lyric journal—and flipped it open to a fresh page. You picked up the pen tucked in the binding, clicking it once before the words started pouring out like they'd been waiting all night.

“she wakes up from fire, but the heat never leaves skin stitched with sirens, mouth full of pleas how do you heal from what no one sees?”

You paused, chewing on your bottom lip, eyes scanning the verse.

Then you wrote more.

Because if you didn’t, the dream would stay lodged in your throat all day.

Once the page was filled and your hand was sore, you closed the journal, pressing your palm to the cover for a moment before finally standing up.

Today was another long day.

And no one needed to know how you’d started it.

The piano room was quiet—too quiet.

Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, slanting across the gleaming black lacquer of the grand piano, dust motes swirling in the stillness. The room was insulated from the rest of the house, wrapped in soft acoustics and the faint lingering scent of old sheet music and lavender-scented polish.

You sat down on the bench, the same one you'd sat on a hundred times before. Your lyric journal rested open beside you, pen tucked in the crease. You didn’t need to read the words—you already knew them by heart.

Fingers met keys.

A soft chord. Another. The melody came first—slow, aching, fragile like a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing. You played the verse you’d scribbled earlier, the notes stretching around the lyrics, shaping them into something raw and real.

"She wakes up from fire, but the heat never leaves..."

The words trembled in your throat, almost too heavy to sing, but you pushed through them anyway. Until you got to the next part.

And stopped.

Your fingers stilled on the keys. The silence rang louder than the music had.

You stared at the ivory beneath your hands, blinking rapidly as the next verse refused to come. It sat just out of reach, a shadow of a thought that wouldn’t take shape.

Your jaw clenched.

Your chest tightened.

And then—like someone had flipped a switch—your vision blurred.

Tears spilled silently down your cheeks, landing on the keys in soft, perfect drops. You didn’t wipe them away. You didn’t move.

In your head, the question repeated on a loop—sharp and quiet and unrelenting.

Why couldn’t I have died with them? Why was I the one who lived?

You squeezed your eyes shut. Pressed your fingers to the keys again. Let the notes ring out even as your breath hitched.

But the lyrics wouldn’t come.

Only the guilt stayed. Heavy as ever.

The knock startled you so hard your fingers slammed against the wrong keys, a dissonant chord ringing out through the quiet room. You flinched, quickly wiping at your cheeks with the sleeve of your cotton jacket, smudging whatever mascara hadn’t already bled into your skin.

You turned toward the door, blinking the tears away as best you could.

It creaked open, and Geoffrey—prim and polished as ever—stepped inside, his gloved hands folded in front of him.

“Apologies for the interruption, Miss,” he said gently, his gaze flicking once to your red-rimmed eyes but not commenting. He never did. “Your manager has arrived. He’s waiting in the foyer.”

You blinked. “Now?” Your voice came out hoarse. You cleared your throat and tried again. “It’s early. He’s not supposed to be here until ten.”

Geoffrey nodded once. “Yes, Miss. He insisted it was important.”

You stared at him for a moment, the warmth of the piano room now feeling suffocating.

“Did he say what it’s about?”

“No, Miss. Only that it was urgent.”

You hesitated, one hand still resting lightly on the keys. The journal lay open beside you, tears drying on the pages.

You closed it carefully, fingers brushing the soft leather.

“Tell him I’ll be down in a minute,” you said quietly.

Geoffrey inclined his head. “Of course, Miss.”

He stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.

You took a breath, held it. Exhaled slowly.

Then stood, every step heavy as you made your way to face whatever came next.

You padded down the grand staircase, barefoot and still dressed in your rumpled tank top and leggings, curls slightly flattened on one side from the pillow, eyes heavy from crying and barely sleeping. Your ankle throbbed with every step, but you barely registered it anymore—it was just part of the rhythm now.

In the foyer, your manager stood with his tablet clutched like it might explode, pacing circles into the marble. The second he saw you, he lit up with the kind of panic that always meant something was very, very wrong.

“Okay, finally,” he said, lowering his phone and half-jogging toward you. “You weren’t answering anything. Did you—are you—whatever, it doesn’t matter, we have a problem.”

You stopped mid-step, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s Tuesday. And it’s still dark out. Why do you look like someone set your office on fire?”

He turned his tablet to face you, showing an email confirmation, a calendar invite, and a photo of you mid-performance with the words:

“TONIGHT: Y/N L/N – Special Performance at the Goldnote Gala, Presented by The Silver Chair Foundation. Red Carpet at 7PM. Performance begins 8:30. Champagne reception. Black tie.”

You stared at it.

“I… didn’t agree to this.”

“Nope. But apparently your publicist did. Two weeks ago. As a ‘surprise guest appearance’ to help the fundraiser ‘feel buzzy and exclusive.’” He used air quotes like they offended him personally. “They’re expecting a song. A speech. Maybe some light mingling with people whose net worth could cancel our entire tour debt.”

You blinked. “It’s 6:22 in the morning, Dean.”

“Yes. And guess what? Now that tonight is locked, everything else on the schedule has to be moved up. Soundcheck, dress fitting, glam, vocal warmups, not to mention your actual studio session with the collab artist you forgot about—”

“Oh my god.” You pressed a hand to your forehead.

He kept going. “—So we are now in a code red time crunch, which means we have roughly twelve hours to do eighteen hours of work before you need to be dressed in something that costs more than your car, smiling at rich people while pretending to love philanthropy.”

You groaned, turning back toward the stairs. “Tell Geoffrey I need coffee.”

“Triple espresso?”

“Make it four and a tranquilizer.”

Dean called after you as you ascended, “You better warm up those vocal cords, sweetheart. Tonight, you’re inspiring the 1%!”

You didn’t even turn around—just muttered, “If I’m not back in ten, I’ve fled the country,” and disappeared down the hall.

The gym was nearly empty—just the soft whir of ceiling fans and the occasional clink of weights echoing through the industrial space.

Sevika liked it that way.

No grunting bros. No awkward small talk. Just cold air, steel, and the slow burn of muscle strain. She stood in front of the weight rack, tank top clinging to her torso with sweat, her left arm wrapped in black compression tape, right hand gripping a kettlebell that looked like it belonged on a construction site.

Veins ran like cords down her forearms. Her delts flexed as she adjusted her stance, legs braced wide, thick thighs balanced in perfect form. Her abs—faint but defined—tightened with every lift. She pulled the kettlebell up into a clean snatch, then dropped into a squat, slow and smooth, muscles rippling beneath her skin with practiced control.

Her jaw was clenched, hair damp and swept back. She didn’t wear headphones. Didn’t need music. Just the rhythm of reps and breath.

She paused between sets, rolling her neck and reaching for her water bottle when her phone buzzed on the bench beside her.

Dean.

She sighed and picked up, not bothering to mask her irritation.

“What.”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Dean’s voice chirped through. “Listen, change of plans. We’ve got a full-day situation—surprise gala, red carpet, you know, rich-people nonsense. Can you come in early?”

She wiped her face with a towel, staring at her reflection in the mirror—brow furrowed, still catching her breath.

“What’s early?”

“Like, now.”

She raised a brow. “I haven’t even showered.”

Dean’s tone was flat. “Neither has the day. Welcome to the circus. I’ll text the address.”

Click.

Sevika grunted, tossing the towel over her shoulder as she grabbed her duffel bag. She didn’t mind chaos. She just wished it didn’t come wrapped in glitter, heels, and a walking hazard zone of feelings.

Still, she moved fast.

Because no matter how complicated you were turning out to be…

You were hers to protect.

Tuesday Afternoon

The gala venue was already buzzing when Sevika arrived—stylists, assistants, and handlers scurrying through sleek halls lined with light panels and flower arrangements too expensive to touch. She scanned the chaos with a trained eye, pushing past the noise until she found the right door.

Y/N L/N – Dressing Room.

She knocked once, didn’t wait for an answer, and pushed it open.

Inside, you stood facing a full-length mirror, frozen in place. The gown on you was designer—of course it was—champagne silk that shimmered like water under light, cut dangerously low on one side and sheer in just the wrong places. You weren’t crying, not yet, but your jaw was tight and your arms were crossed low over your stomach like you could hide yourself by willpower alone.

Behind you, a flustered woman with a pin cushion bracelet and mouth full of pins was fidgeting with a hemline. “Sweetheart, you look stunning. The scar is barely noticeable with the lighting—they won’t even see it unless they’re looking for it—”

“I am looking at it,” you said through your teeth, voice strained but still polite. “And I’m telling you, I don’t want to wear this.”

“It’s a custom piece. It was tailored for this event. We don’t have time to—”

“I said no.”

The woman smiled nervously, glancing at Sevika like she might help.

Sevika didn’t move.

“You’ve got a phenomenal figure,” the fabric woman tried again. “And the cut is meant to—”

“I don’t care what it’s meant to do!” you snapped, voice cracking mid-sentence. “I didn’t ask for a dress that shows my goddamn scar! I didn’t ask for this, and I’m done pretending it doesn’t bother me!”

The room went silent.

Your chest was rising and falling fast now, eyes glassy, lips tight with fury and humiliation. The stylist opened her mouth—maybe to defend herself, maybe to keep pushing—but Sevika stepped forward before a single syllable came out.

“Out,” she said flatly, nodding toward the door.

The fabric woman blinked. “I—”

Sevika took another step forward. Her expression didn’t change, but the weight of her voice dropped lower.

“I said out. Now.”

The stylist backed away fast, scooping up her sewing kit and clipboard like a bomb was about to go off, muttering something about “needing to speak to Dean” as she slipped out the door.

Sevika shut it behind her with a soft click, then turned back to you—still standing in front of the mirror, still breathing hard, arms wrapped tightly around your middle like you were holding yourself together.

You didn’t say anything.

Neither did she.

Not yet.

You stood there for a beat, jaw clenched, staring at your reflection like it had personally betrayed you.

Then, barely above a whisper, you muttered, “It’s so fucking ugly.”

Sevika shifted slightly, but didn’t say a word.

You didn’t look at her as you reached for the zipper and shoved the dress down, letting the silky fabric slide off your hips and pool around your feet. You stepped out of it without hesitation, now standing in nothing but your bra and underwear—skin still flushed from frustration, the scar across your stomach stark under the dressing room lights. Raised. Pale. Twisting slightly just above your hip like a quiet reminder you never asked for.

You turned away, heading straight for the closet and rifling through it like you were on a mission to destroy every scrap of couture in your path.

Behind you, Sevika choked on a breath.

“What are you doing?” she sputtered, turning away so fast she nearly smacked into the wall, arms flailing in front of her like she was under attack. “Why— why are you naked?!”

“I’m not naked,” you said coolly, still rummaging. “Calm down, Christ.”

“There’s, like—protocols!” Sevika hissed, eyes glued to the corner of the room, shoulders tense like the entire situation might explode if she looked directly at you. “I’m your bodyguard, not your backup bra wrangler!”

You let out a dry laugh, grabbing hanger after hanger and tossing aside half the rack. “I forgot you’re shy.”

“I’m not shy, I’m professional!” she snapped, still looking everywhere but at you. “And I’d prefer not to get fired for accidentally catching a glimpse of—Jesus.”

You smirked behind a curtain of fabric, holding up a sleek black number with a high neck and long sleeves.

“Relax,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s just skin.”

Her ears were red. Absolutely burning.

“Yeah,” Sevika muttered, still refusing to turn around. “And that’s the problem.” she opened the door and stepped out

You were halfway into a black velvet gown when the door opened again without a knock.

“Y/N, I just got off the phone with—Oh my god,” Dean groaned, stopping dead in his tracks as the dress slipped halfway down your torso, barely hanging from one shoulder.

You huffed, clutching the bodice up with one hand. “Hi, Dean. Nice of you to knock.”

He shut the door behind him and crossed the room in two quick steps, eyes already scanning the heap of discarded gowns on the chaise. “What’s going on? What happened to the Goldnote dress?”

You didn’t answer. Just adjusted the zipper and tried to stuff your frustration back into your ribs.

Dean sighed like you were personally ruining his blood pressure. “This again?”

“I don’t like it,” you muttered, tugging on the too-loose neckline of the black dress. “It’s see-through, it shows my scar, and this one’s not much better.”

“Y/N…” he started, voice already dropping into that tone.

You glanced at him through the mirror.

He walked over, picking up the champagne gown from where it had fallen over the arm of a chair, brushing it off carefully like it was a wounded animal. “You looked stunning in this. Like… starlet-of-the-decade stunning. Everyone’s expecting it. The designer’s already posted a teaser. It’s on Vogue’s Instagram, for Christ’s sake.”

You swallowed. “Dean—”

“It’s not about the scar. No one’s looking at that. They’re looking at you. You’re the comeback story. The survivor. The one who walked through fire and came out shiny and perfect.”

His words landed like stones in your stomach.

“I just don’t want to be picked apart for something I didn’t choose,” you said softly.

Dean softened his voice, stepping closer. “Babe… that’s the gig. And tonight? You’re not just wearing a dress. You’re giving them something to talk about. And we need them talking. You’ve worked too damn hard to back down now because of something that only makes you stronger.”

You stared at the mirror. At yourself. At the scar.

Your shoulders sagged.

You sighed. “Fine.”

Dean smiled—relieved, triumphant, and a little too smug.

You reached out and took the champagne dress from him with a heavy hand, letting the black one fall to the floor.

Back into the sparkle. Back into the story.

Because this wasn’t about comfort.

It never was.

Sevika stood in the hallway just outside the dressing room, her back against the cool wall, arms crossed, trying—and failing—not to think about the way you had looked at her. The way your voice had dropped. The way your lips had almost brushed hers.

She dragged a hand down her face, jaw tense, breath shallow.

“Its just skin.” fuck that. Its taking everything in sevika not to go to the bathroom and get herself off

The words replayed again and again in her head, burrowing into the parts of her that usually stayed locked down tight.

She exhaled, staring at the ground, still trying to cool off when she heard footsteps.

Dean.

She straightened, watching from the corner of her eye as he strolled toward your dressing room, arms full with some last-minute garment and his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. He didn’t knock. Just opened the door and slipped inside like he owned the air.

A beat passed. Then another.

And when Dean came back out, he was alone.

He didn’t look surprised. Or flustered.

He looked smug.

He adjusted his jacket like nothing happened, letting a satisfied little smirk curl across his face as he walked past her without a word—like he knew something she didn’t.

Sevika’s brows drew together.

What the hell was that?

She gave it a moment—just long enough for Dean to disappear around the corner—before stepping back into the dressing room.

You were standing in front of the mirror again, perfectly still, the champagne gown hugging your frame just as before. Except now, your shoulders were slouched. Your eyes dim. The fire from earlier? Snuffed out.

Her gaze dropped to the scar again, barely visible now through the sheer shimmer of the dress, but still there. Still yours.

She stared for a moment. Quiet.

Then said gently, “You’re back in the dress.”

You didn’t look at her. Not right away.

Just whispered, “Yeah. I guess I am.”

You turned away from the mirror without another word, the heels of your stilettos clicking softly across the dressing room floor as you made your way to your bag in the corner.

Your fingers rifled through it, looking for your lip gloss, maybe your phone—anything to distract from how heavy the dress felt again.

And then—

clatter.

The pill bottle slipped out of your bag and hit the floor with a soft plastic thunk, skittering across the tile like it was trying to expose you on purpose.

You lunged for it, but Sevika was closer.

She scooped it up before you could get there.

Everything in your body went still.

Shit.

You stood there, waiting—bracing—for the lecture. For the disappointed sigh. For the “do you even know how dangerous this is?” or the “this stuff ruins people” or the “you need help.”

But instead, Sevika just turned the bottle over in her hand, eyes flicking to the label. Hydraxin. Prescribed. Heavy dosage.

No emotion. No judgment.

She looked at you once, then simply held it out.

“Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re not gonna—say anything?”

She shrugged. “Not my business.”

You took it slowly from her hand, your fingers brushing hers for just a second.

She didn’t react.

You smiled—bright, syrupy, practiced. The kind you used in interviews to make people think everything was fine.

“Thanks,” you said sweetly, popping the cap and shaking out two pills like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t routine. You swallowed them dry and slipped the bottle back into your bag.

“God,” you said after a beat, glancing up through your lashes at her. “You really are the strong, silent type, huh?”

You took a small step closer, just close enough for your perfume to catch the space between you. “You sure there’s nothing else you wanna… handle?”

But Sevika’s expression didn’t budge. Stone and steel.

She stepped back, hands sliding into her jacket pockets.

“You’ve got a gala in forty minutes,” she said, voice flat. “Maybe save the charm for people who give a shit.”

And just like that—wall, reestablished.

She turned her gaze toward the door, as if looking at you too long might burn something she wasn’t willing to name.

But still… she didn’t leave.

The vanity lights were too bright—warm and soft, sure, but relentless. They reflected off every surface, clung to your skin like stage makeup always did, and made you feel more like a doll than a person.

One stylist was brushing out the ends of your curls, humming something tuneless. Another dabbed foundation into your jawline with a sponge, murmuring about undertones. Someone else adjusted the straps of the dress for the hundredth time.

You sat perfectly still. Smiled when they asked. Nodded when prompted. But your eyes?

Your eyes kept drifting toward the corner of the room.

Sevika stood with her back against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, one boot casually braced behind the other like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her dark jacket had SECURITY printed in block white letters across the back and the sleeve, like a label—like a barrier.

She hadn��t said much since she got there. Hadn’t even looked at you. Not really.

Just stood there, eyes scanning the room, always on alert. Detached. Unbothered.

Your stomach twisted a little.

This was the same woman who’d backed off the stylist earlier without blinking. The same one who’d watched you fall apart in a dressing room and didn’t say a word but still stayed. Who gave you your pills back without judgment, who saw all your mess and didn’t flinch.

And now?

Nothing.

Her face was stone. Her presence heavy but unreadable. You couldn’t tell if she was angry with you or if this was just her default setting.

What’s your deal? you wondered, watching her through the mirror. Are you protective or indifferent? Present or miles away?

She didn’t glance your way once.

And maybe that’s what bothered you the most.

Tuesday Night

The night was chaos wrapped in velvet and flashbulbs.

The gala steps were swarming—fans screaming from behind the barricades, voices rising like a tidal wave every time your name was called. The paparazzi—paparazzi, you remembered with a mental wince—lined the carpet like vultures with thousand-dollar cameras, each one throwing flash after flash in your face like it was open season on your corneas.

You stood in the center of it all like you were born for this.

Hair perfect, dress clinging in all the right places, that practiced sweet-yet-sultry smile frozen effortlessly in place. You turned your head, letting your curls cascade down one shoulder, then did the slow spin your publicist had drilled into you—back turned to the crowd, head tilted over your shoulder, eyes locked on the nearest lens like you meant to burn your image into it.

The lights caught the ink on your shoulder blade—a delicate black-and-grey lily blooming soft and sharp beneath the champagne silk. A memorial. For the woman in the driver’s seat. Sara.

No one ever asked about the tattoo. You never explained it.

But they’d see it now.

And under all the blinding light, something else caught, too.

The scar.

It peeked out beneath the gauzy panel at your hip, glinting under the camera flashes. Faint. Pale. Raised just enough to catch in the wrong lighting—just enough to prove the fabric stylist had lied.

It was visible. All of it.

But you didn’t flinch.

You smiled at the camera. Signed a fan’s photo without even looking down. Said “thank you” and “I love you guys” and “You look so cute tonight!” like a reflex, like breathing. Even as the flashes cracked like lightning. Even as strangers screamed your name like they owned it.

You kept your cool.

The fan photo line had become its own kind of performance—one you knew by heart.

Teen girls with glitter in their hair, clutching custom-made signs and friendship bracelets. Preteens trembling with excitement as they handed you shaky drawings and phone cases for you to sign. Boys with painted nails and bright eyes who gushed about how your lyrics helped them come out. Girls dressed in knockoffs of your concert outfits, crying as they thanked you for "Break My Lipgloss" or “Hydra Heart” getting them through their first heartbreak, their parents’ divorce, the worst year of their life.

Someone apologized for the accident. You just smiled.

Someone asked how you made it. You gave your usual answer—“Hard work. A little luck. And knowing who you are when no one else does.”

You knelt beside a little girl in a sequined jacket for a photo, signing the back of her sparkly backpack. When she hugged you, it was soft and fast and full of the kind of love that didn’t expect anything in return.

Then he stepped forward.

You knew before he even spoke that something was off.

An older man—late sixties maybe, wearing a worn-out tour shirt that looked fake. Not your usual fan. Not even someone who looked like they wanted to be here. His eyes tracked your every move with too much interest. Too much hunger.

Still, you smiled, polite. Trained. You signed his shirt quickly, trying to hand it back before he could say anything. But he stepped in close.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart,” he said, arm slipping around your waist before you could dodge it.

Your stomach twisted.

The photographer paused, fumbling with his lens. “One sec, sorry, just gotta reload—”

You stood stiffly, barely breathing, trying not to let his hand touch skin. But then he leaned in, breath hot against your ear.

“You know why you survived that crash, don’t you?” he whispered, too close. “You’re not normal. You’re divine. You’ve been here before. You’re one of them. Like the old ones. Greek. Reborn in glitter.”

You froze.

His hand slid lower. Fingers pressing against the curve of your ass like he owned it.

“I could show you what it feels like to be worshipped.”

You moved—fast—but he gripped tighter.

“Let go,” you hissed, voice sharp, panic blooming in your chest.

And then—impact.

Sevika came out of nowhere, a blur of black fabric and fury. Her shoulder slammed into him like a freight train, sending the man flying backwards. He hit the floor with a loud thud, camera lights flickering like dying fireflies.

The crowd gasped.

You stood there, shaking, gasping for air you didn’t realize you’d stopped breathing.

Sevika didn’t say anything. Just stood between you and the man’s crumpled body, one hand raised like she might go in again if he moved.

You turned on your heel, heart pounding, dress catching at your knees as you pushed through the nearest curtain—out of view, out of reach, into the cool dark behind the stage.

Your hands were trembling.

Your scar was burning.

The curtain fell behind you like a closing door, muffling the noise of the crowd.

You stumbled a few steps into the shadows behind the stage before your knees buckled, and you dropped into a crouch, hands gripping the hem of your dress like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your chest rose and fell too fast, each inhale scraping against your throat like glass. The sound of cameras still echoed in your ears, his voice still ghosting in your head—you’re divine… I could worship you… His hand—God, you could feel it.

You curled in tighter, pressing your forehead to your knees, trying to disappear into the sequins and silk. Your entire body trembled.

Breathe. Just breathe. You couldn’t.

Then—soft footsteps. A shift in the air.

You flinched as someone crouched next to you.

A large hand settled gently between your shoulder blades. Warm. Solid. Not grabbing. Just there.

“Hey,” Sevika said, her voice low, steady. “You're okay. I’m right here.”

You didn’t lift your head, but your breath hitched. She didn’t rush you. Didn’t force your face up. Just stayed crouched beside you like she had all the time in the world.

“Match me,” she murmured, voice barely audible over the thudding in your ears. “Inhale.”

She breathed in slow and deep. You tried. Failed.

“That’s alright. Again. In…”

She counted softly.

You followed—ragged at first, but slowly steadier. Her hand never left your back, the weight of it keeping you tethered to something that wasn’t fear.

Eventually, the tunnel vision faded. Your lungs started to obey. The panic eased its grip.

“I’ve got you,” Sevika said, just once, when your breath finally came without shaking.

A moment later, you heard hurried footsteps.

Dean.

He stepped around the curtain and froze when he saw you huddled beside Sevika.

“Jesus,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he knelt a few feet away. “Y/N, I—I should’ve never let you go out there tonight. This was too much. You weren’t ready, and I knew it, and I still—” he rubbed his face, overwhelmed with guilt. “I thought we could handle it. That if we controlled the press and the dress and the lighting and the narrative, it’d be okay. I’m so—God, I’m so sorry.”

You looked up at him slowly, eyes red, voice hoarse.

“I just want to go home.”

Dean nodded instantly. “Okay. We’re leaving. I’ll have the car brought around now.”

Sevika helped you to your feet, her hand steady under your arm, not saying much—but she didn’t need to.

She was already doing more than most.

The mansion was quiet when they pulled up—too quiet, like even the house knew better than to make noise tonight. The iron gates slid shut behind them, and the staff scattered respectfully out of view as the car rolled to a stop in the long curved driveway.

Sevika stepped out first, her boots hitting the polished stone with a heavy thunk. She made her way around the side of the house toward the garage where her bike was stashed—tucked between luxury cars and a vintage convertible that probably hadn’t been driven in a decade.

She found her helmet, clipped it under one arm, and stared at her bike like it had betrayed her.

It looked smaller here. Out of place.

So did she.

She sighed, dragging a hand through her hair, thinking—not for the first time—that she should start saving for a car. Something low-key. Nothing fancy. Just enough to keep from looking like a damn courier when she parked next to cars that probably cost more than her entire apartment complex.

She was reaching for her keys when she heard soft footsteps.

“Sevika?”

She turned.

You were standing behind her, still in that champagne dress, now wrinkled and wilted from the night. The dried tear stains on your cheeks glittered faintly under the garage lights.

You grabbed her wrist gently—no drama, no theatrics—just held it like you didn’t want to say what you were about to alone.

“Do you…” You hesitated. “Do you want a drink?”

Sevika stared at you.

Then at your hand.

Then slowly nodded. “…Sure.”

The kitchen was stupidly big. Marble counters. Glass shelves with perfectly lit liquor bottles like a museum exhibit. You moved on autopilot, bare feet quiet on the tile as you reached up and pulled out a bottle that made Sevika’s eyebrows lift the second she saw the label.

Beluga Gold Line Vodka. A price tag north of $400. She'd seen it once in a bar. In a glass case. Untouchable.

You didn’t blink as you poured two shots.

Sevika sat across from you at the massive island, blinking rapidly, like the sheer luxury of this kitchen might call security on her.

You slid the glass toward her, and you both sat in silence for a long beat.

Then Sevika finally broke it.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, voice low but not cold.

Not professional, either.

Just real.

You swirled the vodka slowly in your glass, watching the light catch against the crystal.

“I feel better,” you said after a moment, voice soft but certain. “Still shaky. But… better.”

Sevika nodded once. “Good.”

Another pause.

“Thanks to you,” you added, glancing up at her from under your lashes.

She looked at you—really looked—and didn’t say anything. Just gave a slow exhale through her nose, like she wasn’t sure how to take the compliment.

You smiled faintly, your fingers tapping lightly on the counter as the silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable now. It felt full—like something was waiting.

You leaned forward a little, your forearms resting on the cold marble. Then a little more. She didn’t move. Your eyes flicked to her mouth, the space between you shrinking with every inch.

Her lips parted just slightly. Her shoulders tensed.

You were close. So close.

And then— crack-BOOM.

Thunder exploded outside, rattling the glass panes of the kitchen windows.

You flinched, blinking back to yourself, then gave a breathy laugh as you stood and wandered to the back doors, pushing one open to step onto the patio.

Rain poured from the sky like it had been waiting for the exact moment to break loose. The city beyond the estate lit up in hazy glows and golden halos, skyscrapers blurred through the downpour. The scent of petrichor filled the air—wet stone, grass, ozone.

You stood in it for a second, bare arms catching droplets, your dress soaking slightly as the wind shifted. The chill on your skin made you shiver, but the view was worth it. Rain made everything feel cinematic. Like a sad ending you weren’t sure was actually sad.

You stepped back inside, shutting the door with a soft click and turning to Sevika, who was still planted at the counter, watching you silently.

“You can’t ride home in that,” you said. “The roads are going to be slick as hell.”

“I’ve done worse,” Sevika muttered, but there was no real conviction in it.

“No.” Your voice was firmer this time. “You’re staying. At least for tonight.”

Her brows raised, lips parting like she might argue, but you didn’t give her the chance. You just raised a finger and gave her the look. The one that usually got stylists and choreographers to fall in line.

And, weirdly enough… Sevika listened.

She gave a low grunt of surrender. “Fine.”

Minutes later, Geoffrey was showing her to the guest room—muted, respectful, as if he already knew not to ask questions—and you slipped out of the dress with a sigh, wandering toward the master bathroom with a towel slung over your shoulder.

You lit the candles one by one. The room dimmed to amber.

The bath was massive—white marble, sunken deep enough to submerge your whole body. You filled it with steaming water, drops of oil swirling across the surface in delicate little patterns.

You stepped in slowly, easing into the heat until only your nose, lips, and the top of your head were visible above the surface.

Your eyes fluttered closed.

And then Sevika was back in your head.

Her hand on your back. Steady. Warm.

Her voice, low and even, counting out your breaths like it wasn’t the first time she’d done this for someone. The rough edge of her tone. The tension in her jaw. The quiet way she said, I’ve got you.

It should’ve been just comforting.

But it wasn’t.

Not entirely.

You exhaled slowly, your thighs tightening under the water.

There was something about how she’d taken control without asking. How she hadn’t flinched. How her voice had slipped under your skin like it belonged there.

You sank lower into the bath, eyes half-lidded, water licking at your collarbones.

God.

Even her comfort had turned you on.

Your fingers slipped lower beneath the water, brushing over the soft heat between your thighs. You inhaled sharply through your nose, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you pressed your palm flat and moved in slow, deliberate circles around your clit

You were already aching.

Already imagining her.

The way her eyes had lingered without saying anything. The way her voice had wrapped around you like armor while your world fell apart.

Your hips lifted slightly, seeking more contact, chasing that edge as your fingers grew bolder, stroking tighter, deeper, the water sloshing quietly around your waist. The pressure built with every breath, heat curling low in your belly.

You whispered something you didn’t quite catch—maybe her name, maybe just a plea—and tipped your head back against the rim of the tub, jaw slack as your body trembled.

And when release hit, it rolled through you in waves—sweet, slow, quiet. A sigh slipped from your lips as you sank deeper into the water, eyes fluttering shut.

You stayed there like that for a while, the water still warm, the candles flickering low, your heartbeat slowly steadying.

She was still in the guest room down the hall.

And you didn’t know what scared you more:

That she might hear you…

Or that you wanted her to.

A/N : watching the new tlou episode

comment to be added to the taglist!

@salsalsusu @dynamidedina @sweetvalentineheart @magnificentmilkshakearbite

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW STRUGGLES WITH DRUG ADDICTION, HELP IS AVALIBLE! you're not alone!

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

[rinhaler]

Alexa, play - WUSYANAME - by Tyler, The Creator

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ boyfriend!Yuuji Itadori x f!reader x bully!Megumi Fushiguro

Yuuji Itadori = the love of your life and best boyfriend you've ever had. He loves giving head and he's a total sweetheart. You thought his best friend Megumi would be just as sweet when he joined your art class. But, ugh, he's the worst!

disclaimer: this series is a re-upload from my old blog @fuwushiguro ! warnings will be added accordingly per chapter ♡ I'm going to upload chapters weekly until they're all moved from there to here !

chapter one: What Is Your Name, What Do You Bring?

18+, consensual sex, oral, face sitting, aftercare, disrespecting sex workers.

chapter two: Drown In Some Syrup

18+, consensual sex, oral, disrespecting sex workers, bullying.

chapter three: We Groove and We Dance

18+, dubcon/noncon, consensual dry humping, bullying, fingering, drugging, choking, degradation, bladder failure (NOT piss kink), vomiting, marking??? clubbing.

chapter four: Think Slow, ‘Cause I Move Fast

18+, exhibitionism, semi public, fingering, bullying, drugging mentions, bladder failure mention, vomiting mention, praise kink, brief fainting (ish).

Chapter Five: The Root Of The Apple

18+, panic attack, mental health issues, alcohol consumption, drug taking, bullying, drugging mention, bladder failure mention, marking mention, family drama.

Chapter Six: Smell Some Perfume, Head In The Wind

18+, (kinda) panic attack, cocaine use, familial issues, handjob, misogyny, dry humping (a little??).

Chapter Seven: We Can Sit and Talk, Baby, Get It Off

18+, consensual sex, sleepy slow sex, praise kink, water infection mention, sleeping difficulties, alcohol consumption, smoking, panic attack mention, drugs mention, family drama, arranged marriage mention, bullying.

Chapter Eight: It’ll Probably End With Me Being Forgot

18+, consensual sex, face sitting, praise kink, drug taking, bullying.

Chapter Nine: We Can Switch Off

18+, long distance relationship, slight intimidation and name calling, relationship pressure, family difficulties.

Chapter Ten: Get Your Passport, 'Cause We Runnin' Off

18+, PG chapter tbh, daddy kink mention??, attempted/thwarted bullying.

Chapter Eleven: One Minute, It's a Beautiful Scene

18+, PG chapter tbh!

Chapter Twelve: I Pick a Tail Number and We Could Be Tourists

18+, alcohol consumption, arguing, name calling, strong language lmao, PG chapter tbh!

Chapter Thirteen: I Got Your Bitch Movin'

18+, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia.

Chapter Fourteen: Bright Light, I'm Like a Moth

18+, dubcon, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, infidelity, gaslighting, manipulation, paranoia, degradation, handjob (m+f receiving), oral (f receiving), overstimulation.

Chapter Fifteen: Tell Me Where The Piece Go, 'Cause I'm Lost

18+, drinking, pining, arguing, etc.

Chapter Sixteen: I Think That I Got What You Need

18+, phone sex, praise kink, sex toys, substance abuse, pining, slut shaming, arguing, family drama??, etc.

Chapter Seventeen: I Value The Times That I Take You Out

18+, pet names, cheating, arguing, family drama, cocaine use, depression, (sort of suicide discussion), pining.

Chapter Eighteen: Call Me If You Get Lost

18+, pet names, cheating, family drama, smokin' weed!!, depression, blowjob, fingering, pining

© 2023 rinhaler

[psin314]

Hello! I was scrolling through your BSky and was wondering the story behind your OCs Sean and Eugene, also if you plan on doing more art for them.

glad you asked anon! so so glad!!! sean and eugene (i call them yush) - one of my strongest ocs hyperfixations ever, i love them so much. but i'll try to tell about them as short as possible. (everything's under the cut!!)

also more art? easy. i made them in 2019...

funny pics:

pretty pics:

spicy pics: somewhere on their th pages.

a little about the world they live in (i unofficially call it ryzhebes. i made it in 2017 and it still doesn't have a proper name...):

it's almost like our world but hell and heaven, angels and demons + witches exist here too. hell and heaven look pretty ordinary and modern, no lava pools or screams of horror and pain. satan is a tired workaholic, and god uuh angels say he's a nice guy. demons and angels mostly don't care about humans (also humanity doesn't know that all this exists), but some of them love to have their vacations there (all of them can use "magical" disguises to hide their supernatural features and look like humans). after death humans go either to hell or to heaven, where they live a slightly better or slightly worse second life. of course there are some naughty demons (or even angels) who love to do shit like in movies like the exorcist but there aren't that many of them. (i can write more info about this universe if anyone's interested, but let's keep it short for this post.)

so! about my boys. the first version of them was much darker with catholic guilt and a suicide attempt but I don't want them to suffer so they're simply in love and very happy now.

eugene black is a 42 yo demon, a tattoo artist with an engineering degree who knows 20+ languages. loves to drink beer, smoke cigarettes and act like a cool guy in leather with a motorcycle (he can't afford a motorcycle. he lives with his mom. but he can afford a leather jacket and pants.) (also he's silly.) he's a stutterer, has problems with pronouncing the letters d t p, sometimes n and m. and he doesn't really care. loves to talk. sensitive and romantic guy, will do everything for the people he loves. loves his family, has 5 siblings. has health problems, needs to eat a lot, almost all the money he has he spends on food and still can't gain weight much. has a supernatural ability - can teleport wherever he wants, just needs to know the place or see the needed place on the map. (he uses math and physics for this but no one would understand him anyway.) has problems with teleporting from closed spaces.

father sean farrell is a 30 yo catholic priest from ireland. traumatized childhood, father issues, long depression episodes but he's mostly okay now. although anxiety can't leave this man alone. very kind, supportive, understanding and friendly person. he is very non-aggressive and easily controls himself during an argument. loves to listen and help people. although he's a simple priest, goes to the gym and plays rugby regularly. he's… big and strong. (also getting tired physically everyday helps him fall asleep peacefully.) never been in a romantic or sexual relationship before eugene.

how they met.

1994. eugene lost a bet to his friend and had to go to any random church and steal something. hungover, somehow disguised, he went there in the morning and got right to mass. he had to stay and listen. but somewhere along the way he fell asleep. unexpectedly for eugene, someone started trying to wake him up, holding him by the shoulder. it was this priest who was reading mass. the sleeping man smelled of beer and cigarettes, but he slept so soundly that sean was even a little scared. when he finally woke him up, eugene mumbled something unintelligible (probably his name??) and ran away. sean didn't understand anything. and eugene fell head over heels in love, because the priest turned out to be very pretty.

eugene returned to the church in the evening. in his demon form, because he thought that he would quickly go there, steal what he needed and leave. but he crossed paths with father sean there, who was delayed there to clean up. eugene didn't lose his composure, said hello, joked, tried to come up with a reason for his presence. but sean was silent and looked at him strangely. eugene looked at his hands and realized that the priest was now seeing a demon in front of him. as soon as he raised his head, he received a thick bible book in his face. eugene tried to calm him down, sean wanted to hit him with the book again. but eugene managed to grab him by the wrist and carry him with him to hell.

they fell on top of each other on the road near eugene's house. sean was starting to get hysterical, but eugene, sitting on top of him, grabbed him by the hands and very angrily asked him to calm down and that nothing bad would happen. surprisingly, this calmed sean down. he noticed eugene's nose was bleeding and gave him a handkerchief… (sean thought it was because of the bible blow but teleportation took a lot of eugene's strength. now he'll have to wait until he rests to be able to bring sean back.)

sean looked around, hell looked… nice. normal. an ordinary suburb of a small town. trees are blooming, it smells like normal evening air and and the rain that has just passed. then they went to eugene's house, luckily his mother wasn't home, he made sean some green tea and told him a little about hell, demons, himself and his stupid bet. sean was mostly silent because he was in shock. then a couple of hours later he brought sean back. they went their separate ways.

eugene couldn't stop thinking about sean, he fell in love, he wanted to see him again. sean couldn't sleep either. he had to rethink his whole life, but it didn't work out very well, there was too much of new information. as a result, eugene returned to the church after some time. this time sean noticed him first and immediately ran to him, to discuss reality.

they started talking to each other. first on the topic of the universe, and then moved on to personal topics. started seeing each other more often. it didn't affect sean's faith much in the end, although he almost had 7 nervous breakdowns at once. being a priest still made sense and he continued to do what he always did. he already sort of knew that all this existed. just not in the form that he imagined.

(yes, there are no classic demon-priest relationships here, where the demon seduces the priest and destroys him. it's a romcom. :))

well and yes, after a few months their talking to each other turned into romantic interest. sean slowly fell in love with eugene. he didn't really care that eugene was a man, he wasn't homophobic but he couldn't come out yet. he was naturally worried that eugene was a DEMON and also... celibate yeah. he had never had a relationship, but what he felt for eugene was a very pleasant feeling.

so a few weeks later of what should i do what should i do, one warm evening, sean kissed eugene, and then quickly ran away, because they almost got seen. they met that same night, in the park, in their usual place, where no one would see them. sean wanted to tell eugene that he did it by accident without thinking, they need to stop this, but this time eugene came to kiss him and sean forgot about everything. now they were kissing properly. sean didn't know what to do, this was all wrong, but he really liked eugene. they talked about it and decided to have secret meetings.

after some time it led to sex ofc... after it sean was kind of happy, but also worried even more. one part of him said that this needed to end, and the other part said that he loved eugene. sean told him about it again. they both came to the conclusion that they love each other. eugene didn't want to ruin sean's life so he doesn't mind becoming the priest's secret wife.

im talking to much sorry, and this part to this day isn't properly explained haha ​​sorry x2 i just want them to be happy.

well, in the end. they continue to date and love each other, keeping their secret. (eugene's whole family and his best friends know that he's fucking a priest.)

(sean said that eugene's like a star for him, that of all the billions of shining stars, he found the brightest one. and eugene didn't know that he can say things like that. maybe i'll redraw and repost it someday idk.)

[xxsyluslittlecrowxx]

The Mouth of God, The Hand of Death.

[ vampire!sylus x grim reaper!zayne ] [ snowcrow]

Part II of III

He drinks. I bury. He ruins. I atone. That’s how it’s always been. Until I stopped wanting to fix him- And started wanting him to ruin me too.

ABOUT | 4.6 k. snowcrow. vampire lore. reapers and regrets. three nights, one choice. old blood, older love. longing like rot.

TAGS | vampire x reaper. ruin-wrapped love. duty vs desire. blood-warm regret. ache with fangs.

MUSIC | sonata no. 14 in c-sharp minor, op.27 no.2 - "moonlight sonata": I. adagio sostenuto // ludwig van beethoven, paul lewis.

NOTE | Thank you—for every comment, reblog, like, whisper into the void. I see them all, and I’m so deeply grateful. This piece means a lot to me. It’s grief dressed as beauty. It's sorrow stretched across candlelight. It’s about intimacy without salvation, love without mercy, ruin without rescue.

That said, please take care of yourselves. This scene contains themes of emotional codependence, suicidal ideation, and self-destruction wrapped in tenderness. If you’re sensitive to those topics, or if today just isn’t the day, please skip it. Your safety comes first. Always.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for sitting in the dark with me, even when there’s no promise of light.

INDEX | Part I † Part II † Part III †

Part II — Where You Should Have Let Me Die

HE HADN'T REMEMBERED Vienna in years—not properly. Not the way it returned when he closed his eyes too long, when silence thickened into memory. The city came back in fragments: the taste of wine gone to rot, silk scorched at the cuffs—his collar, maybe. The sound of breathing that wasn’t quite sleep. Sylus had bled slowly then—beautiful in that terrible, deliberate way only the dying could be. It wasn’t a memory Zayne wanted. But it wanted him. Some ghosts did not haunt with how they ended. They haunted with the fact that they hadn’t.

And now, with two nights left and the Order’s seal still burned behind his ribs, Vienna had come to collect.

Vienna, 1893.

The flat was three stories above the filth line, where the canal water had receded but never quite dried. Zayne stepped over the threshold like a man entering a mausoleum, boots silent on tile warmed by bodies that had long since cooled.

Candles had been lit—dozens of them, their smoke curling like unanswered prayers. They burned at odd heights: along bookshelves, the grand piano’s curve, the cracked window ledge. As if someone had tried to chase the shadows from every corner, but couldn’t bear to dispel them completely.

Outside, the faint clatter of a carriage wheel echoed up from the street. Somewhere, a dog barked once. And then nothing.

He found Sylus on the chaise beneath the old mirror, half-draped in a dressing robe the color of dried blood. The collar hung open. His chest was bare. His ribs showed more clearly now, skin pale and too still. A silver crucifix rested against his sternum—mockery, or memory. Zayne couldn’t tell.

“I wondered how long it would take you,” Sylus murmured without opening his eyes. His voice was low, syruped and slow, melted down into something sweeter than it should’ve been. “But then again, you always liked arriving late.”

Zayne didn’t answer. He stepped into the room like a man stepping onto thin ice, knowing full well it would break.

The scent hit next—blood, yes, but old. Metallic and florid. It clung to the silk, the wax, the pillow where Sylus’s head lay like an offering.

“How long?” Zayne asked quietly.

Sylus smiled. Eyes still shut.

“Since I last fed?”

Zayne nodded once.

“A week. Maybe more. I wanted to see if I could get close enough this time. Close enough for the edge to press back.”

Zayne’s gaze drifted upward, to the crack in the mirror just above Sylus’s head. It split his reflection like a wound.

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in slow deaths.”

“I lied,” Sylus whispered, opening his eyes at last. “But only to you.”

Zayne blinked once.

He’d been lied to before. But never in a way that pretended to be mercy. Never in a way that almost made him want to believe it.

Sylus didn’t move. He was draped across the velvet like a dying saint in a baroque painting—half-pitying, half-petulant. Too lovely to be permitted. Too cruel to mourn. The candlelight feathered along the angles of his collarbones, casting faint shadows into the hollow of his throat.

“You shouldn’t have come,” Sylus murmured.

“I always come,” Zayne replied.

A pause. Then: “That’s the problem.”

Zayne reached for the candelabra closest to him and adjusted the wick. The flame flared gold and then softened, illuminating the edge of a wine glass stained dark. As if someone had drunk deep, then spilled the rest in indifference. He traced the curve of it with one gloved finger. Still warm.

“I thought you said you wanted to die,” Zayne said.

Sylus turned his head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. “I do.”

“Then why light the candles?”

A bitter smile twisted Sylus’s mouth. “Even a man who wants to drown doesn’t blow out the stars before he jumps.”

Zayne closed the distance slowly. He didn’t sit. He didn’t kneel. He stood beside Sylus like a sentinel, a witness—something old and cold and built for endings.

“You’re starving,” he said.

“I know.”

“You didn’t call for me.”

“I know.”

“You still wore the ribbon.”

Zayne’s voice dropped.

A beat passed. Sylus stilled—only his eyes moved. They flicked to his wrist, where the black velvet ribbon—once Zayne’s—had been tied in a frayed, almost careless knot. Burned at one end, stiff with old blood, it looked like it had been fastened years ago and never untied.

It had once wrapped a wound. Now it wrapped him. A tether disguised as a keepsake.

“I forget I’m wearing it,” Sylus said softly.

“You never forget.”

Another silence. Zayne stepped closer, barely a breath between them now.

“You’re waiting for me to save you again,” he said.

Sylus’s voice broke around a laugh. “No, darling,” he whispered. “I’m waiting for you to fail me the way you never dared to before.”

Zayne didn’t speak. Didn’t move.

He stood in the candlelight like something conjured—less a man than a reckoning with a name.

Sylus tilted his head back against the armrest, exposing his throat. His robe slipped just enough to reveal the shadowed curve of his shoulder, the hollow lines of a body hollowed by time. He looked beautiful in the way ruins sometimes do—collapsed with intention, left standing not out of mercy, but because no one dared tear them down.

“You came all this way,” Sylus murmured, “and still you haven’t touched me.”

Zayne’s jaw tensed.

“You’re not mine to touch.”

Sylus’s smile turned cruel. “No,” he said. “But that didn’t stop you in Prague. Or Paris. Or any of the places we don’t talk about.”

Zayne closed his eyes. Only briefly. Just long enough to forget the last time. Just long enough to remember the first. The way Sylus had tasted of crushed velvet and iron, of wine turned holy in the wrong mouth.

When he opened them again, Sylus was watching him—not with amusement, but something darker. Something close to forgiveness.

“Why now?” Zayne asked.

Sylus didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Because I wanted to die beautiful.”

“You already were.”

“No.” His voice softened. “Not the way you remember me.”

Zayne took a breath that didn’t feel like his.

And still, after everything, he didn’t know if this was penance or worship.

Then, finally, he moved.

He dropped to his knees beside the chaise, one gloved hand resting on the velvet. The other reached up—slowly, reverently—and found Sylus’s face. His thumb brushed just beneath the eye, where sleep had left a bruise that death hadn’t yet claimed.

“You could’ve called for anyone.”

“I didn’t want anyone.”

Zayne nodded once. Then pulled the glove from his hand.

And touched him.

Skin to skin.

The heat of Sylus’s skin shocked him—too human, too alive. His fingers trembled once, then stilled, memory threading into muscle.

It was like the first time.

Like the last.

Like the only thing left in the world that hadn’t yet been ruined.

Sylus leaned into the touch like it hurt.

His lashes fluttered, then closed. A breath left him that sounded more like a confession than relief.

“You always touched like you were praying,” he said, voice raw. “Like you thought it would be the last time.”

“It was,” Zayne murmured. “Every time.���

He moved his thumb down the curve of Sylus’s cheek, over the faint bruise where starvation had hollowed him out. The ribbon at his wrist brushed Zayne’s skin—familiar, frayed, still warm.

He hated how tenderly he still wanted him.

Sylus’s fingers found his jaw, light as a threat—like he might tilt his face to kiss him, or break it.

“You remember that night in Prague?” Sylus asked, almost smiling. “You said if you ever touched me again, it would be the end.”

Zayne’s throat tightened.

“It is.”

The space between them folded. Sylus leaned in, their mouths nearly brushing. He didn’t kiss him. Not yet. Just breathed the same air. The same grief.

Zayne could smell the rot on him. The want. The death. His collar was damp, silk half-undone—like he’d started undressing for someone who never came.

Zayne’s hand slipped to his throat.

He felt it—a pulse, barely there. Slow. Sick. Shivering through veins that only remembered life because he told them to.

“I could take you now,”Zayne whispered. “End it. Softly.”

“But you won’t.”

“No,” he said. “I won’t.”

Sylus laughed, low and bruised. “Then at least ruin me properly.”

And then he kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t brutal. It was slow—drawn out like a vow broken in reverse.

The kiss tasted like smoke and memory.

Zayne let it happen.

He couldn’t stop it.

Some sins don’t feel like sins when you’ve already buried your god.

Their mouths moved like slow violence—no heat, no haste, just the ache of a wound reopened too carefully to clot.

Zayne pressed in, hand still on Sylus’s throat—not to restrain, but to feel the illusion of life. That faint, failing beat.

He kissed Sylus like he was memorizing the ruin—tongue tracing the sharp edge of a fang not yet bared, lips brushing the corner of a mouth that had lied to him more times than it had begged.

He didn’t care.

He couldn’t.

Sylus made a sound low in his chest—not quite a moan, not quite a sob. It vibrated against Zayne’s palm. His hand slid down, parting the folds of the blood-wet robe until his palm pressed to the thinnest part of Sylus’s waist.

Beneath his fingers: bone. Velvet. Hunger.

Sylus pulled back just enough to look at him—really look.

“I asked you to kill me,” he said.

“I remember.”

“I still want you to.”

Zayne’s hand slid lower. Not kind. Not cruel. Just there. Solid.

“You’re asking me to be merciful,” he whispered, “while pressing into my hand like this.”

Sylus let out a breath that could’ve been a laugh or a curse. He sank deeper into the cushions, robe falling open with no resistance. His chest—pale, marked by old bite scars and something older still—rose with effort.

Zayne’s hand stayed at his hip, grounding him.

“You want to die,” he said, eyes dark. “But not before I make you feel something.”

Sylus nodded once.

Zayne waited—just a breath, just long enough to mean it.

“Then say it.”

Sylus didn’t hesitate. “Ruin me.”

So Zayne did.

He pushed him back, mouth to collarbone, tongue dragging over salt and silk and the faint sweetness of old blood. He moved lower—reverent and wrathful at once—like he was performing a sacrament no god would recognize.

Sylus’s fingers tangled in Zayne’s hair. Not to pull him closer—he didn’t need to. Zayne was already there. Already pressing open his thighs. Already undoing the ribbon at his hip—slow, reverent. Like unwrapping a sin never meant to be shared.

And when Zayne’s mouth finally touched him—deliberate, devastating—Sylus shuddered.

Not from pleasure.

From memory.

From the knowing that this was what he’d always wanted: to be undone by the one man who would never forgive him for surviving.

Sylus’s breath caught—sharp, ragged, a thread pulled too tight.

Zayne moved slowly. Not for mercy. Not for grace. But for memory. Every motion stitched the past into the present, his tongue tracing the seam of regret and want like he could unmake both with enough devotion. He sucked with desperate control, the kind that says I shouldn’t need this—but I do.

Sylus bit into his own wrist to stay quiet. Not for pride. Maybe not even for defiance. Maybe just to avoid sounding like he was dying again.

Zayne’s hand gripped his hip—grounding, not possessive. His other slid to Sylus’s thigh, fingers spread against skin that was too warm, too alive. He took him deeper. Let him feel it. Let him know what it meant to be wanted in silence.

And Sylus—unraveling by degrees—let him.

He didn’t beg.

Didn’t need to.

Zayne’s mouth had already answered every prayer he’d never dared voice.

There was no spectacle in it. No game. Just pressure. Heat. Sorrow shaped into something sacred and sharp. When Zayne finally pulled back to breathe, his eyes were hooded, his mouth wet and flushed, a thread of saliva catching the candlelight like silver.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

“You’ve always done that to me,” Sylus rasped.

Zayne licked the taste from his lip, then bent again, deeper this time.

He wanted Sylus to remember. To ache. To regret him.

He could feel it—Sylus getting close. Not just to release, but to something worse. A threshold of grief he’d never crossed aloud. Something shimmering beneath the surface, asking to be broken open.

“Zayne—” His voice cracked.

Zayne didn’t stop.

Didn’t look up.

Didn’t need to.

Sylus’s fingers clenched in his hair. His hips stilled. His breath shattered. And when it came—quiet, violent, full of shame—it was Sylus who turned his face from the light.

And Zayne who swallowed him down like penance.

Zayne stayed there a moment longer, lips pressed to the place where Sylus’s pulse had once thundered and now barely whispered.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just breathed him in.

The scent of blood, salt, silk. The aftermath of a body surrendered not in ecstasy, but in confession.

And Sylus—ruined, panting, shivering from the inside out—lifted one hand, curled his fingers around Zayne’s jaw. Not possessive. Not dominant. Just there. Like he needed proof of him.

Zayne rose slowly, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and met Sylus’s gaze without flinching.

“Do it,” he said.

Sylus blinked. “What?”

Zayne leaned in, close enough to brush their noses. His voice dropped, almost kind. “You’re starving. You’ve been starving.”

“I can’t.”

“You’ve already taken everything else,” Zayne whispered. “You might as well take this.”

And then he tilted his head.

Offered his throat.

The scar was still there—faint, but deep. The one Sylus had left in Paris, on a night when the world was ending more slowly. Zayne had never let it heal. Not properly.

His skin pulsed, pale and warm, stretched thin over the hollow where neck met shoulder.

A death offering. A surrender. A dare.

Sylus stared. His fangs ached. Lips parted. Breath shallow. He wanted it—not just the blood, but the permission. The ache. The cruelty of being given what he’d never earned.

He leaned in slowly, reverently. His mouth hovered just over the skin, breath fanning Zayne’s pulse.

“You don’t forgive me,” he said.

“No.”

“You’ll hate me for this.”

“I already do.”

Sylus closed his eyes.

And sank his fangs in.

Zayne flinched—just once. Not from pain. From memory.

The bite was deep. Intimate. Too tender to be anything but obscene. Sylus drank like he was starving, tongue pressing to the wound, mouth sealed tight as if to keep it all inside. Zayne’s hands found his shoulders—not to push him away, but to hold him there.

There was no moan. No cry.

Just the sound of feeding. Of worship disguised as ruin.

Zayne’s pulse dimmed beneath Sylus’s mouth. He swayed—weightless, as if drawn into a tide. His head tipped back. His breath hitched.

And Sylus—drinking, trembling, half-wild with it—groaned against his skin like a man trying to breathe underwater.

Sylus groaned again, deeper this time—less from hunger than from something older, something almost reverent. His hands slipped around Zayne’s back, one pulling him close, the other cradling his head as though he feared the collapse he was causing.

Blood filled his mouth like a sacrament.

Sweet. Familiar. Tainted by everything unspoken.

Zayne’s fingers curled in his hair. His breath hitched, dragged through parted lips as the room tilted gold. The pain was gone. What remained was heat—a slow, aching bloom low in his stomach that had nothing to do with blood loss.

A sound escaped him. Not a cry, not quite a moan. Just breath, broken at the edges.

Sylus responded with touch.

His hand slid down Zayne’s spine, beneath the coat hem, palm finding skin—too cool, trembling with restraint. When Zayne didn’t stop him, Sylus pressed closer, their bodies aligning like ruin folding into ruin.

Zayne felt him then. Hard beneath the velvet robe, pressed to his thigh, moving in rhythm with his mouth.

Sylus sucked deeper, slower. Each pull deliberate. His hips shifted, grinding with quiet desperation. A sound spilled from him—wet, wrecked, unspeakably intimate. He moaned into the wound as though savoring the taste of what he could never atone for.

Zayne gasped.

“Sylus—”

But he didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

He let him drink. Let him move. Let himself be touched—first tentative, then certain—as Sylus’s hand traced down, fingers slipping beneath his waistband. Zayne tipped his forehead to Sylus’s temple, bracing.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, barely audible.

And Sylus didn’t.

He stroked him with the same reverence with which he drank—measured, unrelenting, meant to worship and unmake. Zayne groaned, low and broken, rocking into the rhythm like something starved for contact, buried too long beneath grief.

“You taste the same,” Sylus breathed against his throat. “But you feel lonelier.”

Zayne shuddered. “You said you’d forget.”

“I lied.”

Another bite—sharper this time. Greedier.

Zayne cried out, hands fisting in silk, memory splintering through muscle. He couldn’t think. Could only feel: the press of teeth, the heat of breath, the hand that dragged him toward an ending he'd longed for but never claimed.

And then— Release.

It overtook him silently. A dam shattering inward. His whole body trembling with it. Pleasure folded into pain. Hunger folded into shame. And through it all, Sylus drank—slow and steady, mouth red, hands sure.

Only when Zayne slumped against him did he stop.

He licked the wound closed, sealing it with a tenderness that felt too much like regret. Then kissed the scar. Soft. Final.

Zayne couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. His chest rose and fell like something relearning how to be alive.

Sylus held him, forehead to shoulder. His own breath uneven. One hand still resting at Zayne’s hip, the other curled in the fabric of his coat.

“I never wanted you to forgive me,” Sylus whispered.

Zayne turned his face slightly, eyes half-lidded. “Then why ask me to stay?”

“Because even monsters,” Sylus said, “need someone to bury them when it’s over.”

They stayed that way for a long time. In the velvet hush. In the hush between heartbeats. In the dying breath of candlelight.

Two men built of aftermath. Two sinners kneeling at the altar of each other’s ruin.

And somewhere beyond the walls, Vienna dreamed on—unaware that, for a single night, death had made love to what it could not bring itself to end.

* * * *

Zayne dressed first.

He moved slowly, methodically—like a man reassembling a body he no longer knew how to wear. Every button was penance. Every breath, betrayal.

Sylus didn’t rise. He lay half-shrouded in candlelight and velvet, robe open, throat mottled where Zayne had gripped him, kissed him, allowed himself to be ruined again.

“Don’t look like that,” Sylus said at last. “I’ve died before.”

Zayne said nothing.

He buckled his belt. Adjusted his gloves. Watched his hands like they belonged to someone else.

Someone who hadn’t begged.

Someone who hadn’t stayed.

Sylus exhaled a low, joyless laugh. “You’ll come back again.”

“No.”

“You always say that.”

Zayne turned. Slowly. As if movement cost something.

“You think it’s love,” he said, low and even, “because I let you take from me.”

Sylus’s smile was thin. “No,” he murmured. “I think it’s love because you never take from me.”

Zayne flinched—not visibly. But Sylus knew the tremor in his restraint. Knew what it cost him not to shatter.

He crossed the room. Stopped just shy of contact.

“Do it, then,” he said. “End it. Reap me.”

Zayne blinked.

Sylus stepped closer.

Pressed chest to chest. Took one of Zayne’s gloved hands and raised it to his own throat.

The beat there was slow. Steady. Mocking.

“Right here,” Sylus whispered. “No silk. No sound. No moaning or memory. Just finish it, Reaper. I won’t stop you.”

Zayne’s hand trembled.

He could do it. He’d done worse. Cities, lovers, gods.

But this—

This was different.

He was Death, yes. He knew how to end things. Knew the weight of closing a door no one else could open.

But this wasn’t duty.

This was intimacy made execution.

And that— That was the one sin he hadn’t yet learned how to live with.

Not yet.

His fingers twitched against Sylus’s throat. Not pressure. Just presence.

The way you might hold a flower before crushing it. Or a memory, just before forgetting.

Sylus didn’t flinch. He leaned into it—deliberate, defiant, daring Zayne to remember the warmth of his skin before choosing to end it.

“I won’t beg,” he said softly. “Not this time.”

“You never had to.”

A silence opened between them—wide, raw, unbearable.

Zayne dropped his hand. Like a blade refusing the neck it was forged to sever.

Sylus exhaled—not relief, but something darker. Disappointment. Grief. A thread of longing so worn it had frayed into something that almost resembled comfort.

“Why?” he asked.

Zayne said nothing. Couldn’t.

So Sylus answered for him.

“Because you don’t want me dead,” he said. “But you don’t want me here, either. You want me gone in a way that doesn’t stain your hands.”

Zayne turned from him. Not to flee. But because looking at him was like trying to read the name on a grave you dug yourself.

“I was ready,” Sylus murmured. “This time, I meant it.”

Zayne’s shoulders tensed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” A hollow laugh. “It’s still true.”

“I know.”

Sylus smiled—and it was the saddest thing in the room.

He stepped forward and placed one hand gently on Zayne’s back. Not a plea. Not seduction.

Just the closest a dying man could come to saying, Let me go.

“You always stop just short,” Sylus said. “Of everything that would end me.”

Zayne bowed his head. “Because I don’t know which would be worse.”

“And I,” Sylus whispered, “am tired of being the thing you won’t choose.”

Zayne turned then. Fast. As if something in him broke clean.

He didn’t touch Sylus. Just looked at him. Really looked.

And Sylus—unwrapped, unarmed, unasked for—looked back like he already knew it would be the last time.

No blood this time. No silk. No ribbons. No mouths pressed to wounds.

Just silence. Just sorrow.

Just a Reaper who didn’t reap. And a monster who, without ceremony, stopped asking to be spared.

The candle died before dawn.

No one moved to replace it.

Shadows reclaimed the walls. Velvet mourned in silence. And the night—once full of breath and hunger—gave way to stillness so complete it felt like a tomb.

Zayne stood a long while, unmoving. As if listening for some final sound—the scrape of regret, the click of a door, the faint prayer of a man hoping to be stopped.

But Sylus said nothing.

He simply turned.

Not dramatically. Not even slowly. Just enough to step out of the grief and into the habit of survival. He gathered the robe around himself with the same grace he’d once used to draw blood. Then crossed to the far window, where the shutters had remained closed since the plague first bloomed in the lungs of the city.

He did not open them.

He just stood there.

Back to the room. To Zayne. To the ache draped in velvet between them.

Zayne cleared his throat—but the sound betrayed him. It shattered the illusion that silence might spare them.

And Sylus—who hadn’t wept in a hundred years—smiled without turning.

“So this is how it ends,” he said.

“It doesn’t have to.”

Sylus laughed. Not cruelly—just tired.

“You let me live,” he said. “But not because you love me.”

Zayne said nothing.

“You let me live,” Sylus continued, “because you need to believe you're better than I am.”

Still, Zayne didn’t speak. His hands trembled inside the folds of his coat. His mouth tasted like ash.

“And the worst part,” Sylus said, softer now, “is that you still do.”

Zayne’s breath caught.

A confession gathered in his chest—but there wasn’t time.

Not now. Not anymore.

Because outside, the sun was rising. Climbing the sky like a blade being drawn. And Vienna—dear, godless Vienna—was waking again.

Unaware that something had just ended.

Unaware it had once been beautiful.

Even in ruin.

Zayne stepped back.

Once. Then again.

Each footfall was careful, like retreating from a grave you’d dug yourself.

Sylus did not turn. His silhouette was still framed against the shutters, morning bleeding through in thin slats of light. It painted lines across his bare shoulders, his throat, his jaw.

He looked like a man awaiting execution.

Zayne opened the door.

It creaked. A small, final sound.

“Say it,” Sylus said suddenly, voice like breaking glass. “Please.”

Zayne’s spine locked.

He didn’t ask what Sylus meant. He knew. He’d always known.

Say why.

Say it wasn’t just survival.

Say you wanted me to live.

Say you love me.

But Zayne had never been good at finishing things.

Not when it mattered.

Not when it was him.

His fingers curled around the handle. White-knuckled. He lowered his head—not in prayer, but in something crueler. Restraint.

“I can’t,” he whispered.

Sylus didn’t laugh.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

And Zayne—godless, grieving, guilty—stepped out of the room like a man leaving behind a body.

The corridor outside was gray with early light. Too soft to forgive. Too pale to forget.

He didn’t look back.

Couldn’t.

He walked, each step a severance, each turn a crucifixion of something he’d once dared to call love.

Behind him, Sylus sank to the floor.

He didn’t collapse. He lowered himself slowly, like grief had finally grown teeth.

He sat in the light.

Let it touch him.

Didn’t flinch.

He wasn’t afraid of dying.

Only of being left alive.

Again.

The room still smelled like him. Like Zayne. Like regret, sharp and cloying, as if it had scorched the walls.

Sylus closed his eyes.

Let his head fall back against the shutter.

“Coward,” he said to the silence. And the silence—ever faithful—said nothing in return.

Present day.

Zayne didn’t sleep again.

He sat on the edge of the bed, motionless, one hand still curled around the ribbon like a relic. The fabric had once been violet—royal, defiant. Now it was the color of bruises. Time had taken what blood hadn’t.

The window was cracked open. Cold swept in, sharp with iron and rain. Below, the city murmured like a throat preparing to scream.

He had two nights left.

Two nights to end what he once swore to protect. To kill the man he’d only ever dared to love in silence. To prove that Vienna had been a mercy. That letting Sylus live had only drawn out the dying.

His dying.

His suffering.

Zayne stared at the wall. At the shadows that moved just slightly wrong. At the mirror, where even his reflection blurred—as if it, too, refused to name what he was becoming.

His jaw clenched. He could still feel it—Sylus’s breath on his throat. His mouth on the ribbon. That silence—soft, terrible—that had begged louder than any plea.

Say it.

But he hadn’t.

Not then.

Not now.

And soon, it would be too late again.

He rose. Slowly. As if gravity pulled heavier in this room. As if Vienna had followed him like a ghost that didn’t haunt—only remembered.

He brushed his thumb over the ribbon one last time before tucking it into his coat pocket. The fabric trembled between his fingers, or maybe that was just him.

Then he turned and left the apartment without a sound.

Somewhere out there, Sylus was still waiting.

Still hoping.

Still bleeding in ways Zayne had never learned how to stop.

And maybe this time—maybe this time, he’d do what he should’ve done beneath the shuttered windows of that godless city.

Finish it.

Or finally say the one thing that would make it impossible.

Part III out tomorrow...

INDEX | Part I † Part II † Part III †

[ cover : pinterest]

[pressplay-if]

To think I was worried about this IF ending up too short for anyone to be interested.

The hospital section in this Chapter alone is only getting longer and longer. I keep thinking of new important details and little extra scenes to add just to complete the psych ward experience (TM).

Some interesting details about Zima and MC's past mental state below cut (might be important):

Zima has now had their first interview section, mainly determining the details of the nature of their past involvement with MC. There's a total of four options. If you enjoyed the choice of Stevie having a crush on MC, you're gonna love this.

MC can be hospitalized due to either depression or social anxiety, as these are the only conditions that I feel wholly comfortable writing. I considered also offering a combination of the two, but ultimately decided against it, as the MC's oast mental illness will eventually influence the future of the story and I want those paths to be very distinct and different.

Please mind that, while everyone who suffers from mental illness of any kind has their own totally subjective and individual experience with it, I'm writing social phobic and depressive MCs with certain "set" symptoms. Here are some set elements:

Social phobia MCs experience physical symptoms and selective mutism. They are nervous and quiet, so all their interactions, especially in the beginning of their hospitalization (even when picking the antagonistic options) will reflect that. So if you're wondering why MC seems to be acting meek or "submissive", it's bc of their affliction not allowing them to be as outspoken as they might like to be. Social phobia MCs have a general exhaustion of life, given they live in constant stress, but they do not self-harm. They are prone to sleep disturbances.

Depressive MCs experience listlessness, irritation (which can makes them more prone to acting aggressively), feelings of self-loathing and dissatisfaction. They have a heightened need for sleep and will report not wanting to get out of bed. They can, in fact, choose to be currently practicing self-harm, or to have done so in the past. However, even if they choose to have never self-harmed, they will report thoughts of suicide.

Either MC will be medicated during their time in the clinic. It's a small text section and a slight bit vague as my medical knowledge, despite my research efforts, is limited. The MC will get to choose how to feel about the drugs and the potential side effects, though.

Either MC will be able to additionally describe symptoms indicating neurodivergence.

Either MC can choose to be underage smoking, drinking or both during this time. Or neither, of course.

So thanks for reading all that! Small disclaimer: I know very well that the depression and social phobia symptoms I chose to write about are NOT universally representative. This all might sound like the routes are very set, but there's actually a ton of customization going on in this chapter, so don't you worry! (Also it's gonna be rly important for the future of the band)

[hees-mine]

✩NO RAINBOWS - L.HS✩

✧PAIRING: HEESEUNG + FEM READER✧

WARNING$: SMUT, PROTECTED/UNPROTECTED SEX, ROUGH SEX, SHOWER SEX, ANAL, ORAL, FINGERING, CUM EATING, FUCKING WHILE HIGH/DRUNK, BLOWJOBS, PUSSY EATING, NIPPLE SUCKING, LICKING, DIRTY TALK, POSSESSIVENESS, LOTS OF SEX SCENES, ANGST, JEALOUSY, INSECURITY, CRYING, CHILDHOOD ABUSE, TRAUMA, FIGHTING, BLOOD, ARGUMENTS, CURSING, SMOKING, DRINKING, MENTIONS OF CLUBS, DRUGS/DRUG DEALING, OVERDOSE, DEATH, SUICIDE. IF THESE WARNINGS MAKE YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DO NOT READ!

WC: EST 30k more or less

GENRE: ROCKBAND AU. INSPIRED BY CHASE ATLANTIC.

RELEA$E DATE: UNKNOWN, UPDATES/TEASERS WILL BE POSTED ON PATREON EXCLUSIVE! DO NOT RUSH FOR UPDATES!

FEATURING: HEESEUNG VOCALIST 🎤 , JAKE DRUMMER 🥁 , JAY GUITAR 🎸, SUNGHOON BASSIST 🎸.

$YNOP$I$: it’s not everyday your favorite underground up and coming rock band tours in your city, but the day they do, you take full advantage. Just seeing them live felt surreal, but what was even more unreal was the lead singer noticing you amongst a small crowd. You thought that made your night turns out once the concert had ended and you made your way backstage (thanks to your vip pass) is what really made your night, yet the surprises didn’t stop there. After a brief interaction with the band, the front man, Lee heeseung, offers to take you back to the tour RV, leading to one unforgettable steamy night, and suddenly, he asks you to go on tour with him as you lay tangled in his sheets without a thought you say yes taking a step into his world but little did you know there’s “no rainbows just white lines.”

!CLICK LINK FOR STORY UPDATES AND PATREON EXCLUSIVES! 4$ SUBS!

[lunar-eclipse779]

As is Wax to Flame

Illustrated Touchstarved Fic (featuring my Character and writing, Ais from Touchstarved and the wonderful commission I got from @vaultureculture go show em some love or I’ll come for you/j✨🌙.)

I had so much fun writing this so I decided to share it I hope you enjoy my darlings!

Snippet:

She watches as he fishes out a pack of cigarettes—probably stolen off the last poor soul he got into a fight with.

A small flame flickers to life at the tip of her pitch black hand—well pitch black if you ignore the softly glowing purple freckles—, she reaches toward the cigarette in his scarred hands. Far less scarred than her own.

She lights it for him—a small, thoughtful gesture. One he knows means more than she’ll ever admit.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicidal thoughts and implied Suicidal Ideation read at your own discretion!

ROLL FILM:

Luna never gets tired of sitting beside the sea spring, staring out into the blood-red waters.

There’s something about it—the chance to forget everything, from who she is to all her worries just by drinking from it.

But she won’t.

Not now.

At least not while she’s still trying to find a different solution.

And while someone is there to watch.

The body she’s tucked into is warm and quiet. Ais has never been one for small talk.

She watches as he fishes out a pack of cigarettes—probably stolen off the last poor soul he got into a fight with.

A small flame flickers to life at the tip of her pitch black hand—well pitch black if you ignore the softly glowing purple freckles—, she reaches toward the cigarette in his scarred hands. Far less scarred than her own.

She lights it for him—a small, thoughtful gesture. One he knows means more than she’ll ever admit.

He takes a drag and exhales the smoke slowly, watching it curl into the air. He wonders how long they’ll stay this time—until this latest bout of desire to drown herself in the sea spring subsides.

Luna keeps her forehead pressed into his neck, sharp fangs barely tucked away as she breathes in and out.

There’s something oddly soothing about the secondhand smoke. It soothes her mind and the ravenous hunger inside her.

Gentle lips press against her eye or well where her eye used to be. Just a brief touch not more not less but Luna melts like wax swallowed whole by flame anyway.

They’ve always been like that—showing care without words, in just the way the other needs.

“Basima.”

Thank you, in her native tongue—if Ais remembers correctly.

Something inside him warms. He knows it’s the most gratitude she can bring herself to say aloud.

Maybe it’s because the language is nearly dead.

Maybe it’s because speaking it makes her feel exposed.

Either way, he knows it means far more than just the word itself.

Ais takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke pool in his lungs before exhaling through his nose.

He can feel the cold press of her nose against the base of his throat.

The touch is familiar, comforting, even.

He wraps one arm around her slender shoulders and presses his cheek against the top of her head, burying his face in her curls.

Her skin is cool to the touch—always cooler than someone who has a soul.

He can feel the faint hum of her heartbeat. Alive and somehow Soulless what a contradiction. One he is used to.

How strange that Soulless creatures always have this inherient cold feeling to them.

He takes another drag of his cigarette, holding the warm tobacco smoke in his lungs.

He blows the smoke infront of him—away from her nose, because he knows the smell of tobacco directly in her face bothers her.

Knows she’s used to the pretentious fancy shit. Mahogany pipes with a lavender based herbal mix usually.

Any other day he would have purposefully blown the smoke into her face mocking her for how her nose wrinkles and she explains for the millionth time that what she smokes is simply more pleasant.

But not today.

The silence between them is a comfortable one.

Years spent together have granted that comfort.

Even if most of the time they’re not like this. This gentle. This soft.

He tightens his grip around her, pulling her body even closer to his.

She’s solid, and real, and warm, and not in his head

She’s not in his head.

His fingers play idly with the crescent moon shaped earring dangling from her pointed ear.

The air around them is still and quiet, save for the sound of water lapping against the rocky shoreline.

Ais stares out into the Seaspring, the red waters shimmering and dancing in the dim light.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke swirl in the air around them.

The slightly sweet smell of tobacco fills the air.

And then he feels it.

Her body tensing against his.

A soft, barely noticeable change in her breathing.

The bright glow of her brown eye dims.

She is not as subtle as she thinks she is.

He moves the hand messing with her earring into her hair and she visibly relaxes once more.

He knows just how much she craves the constant contact—the reassurance that he’s there, that he isn’t going anywhere, that he won’t leave.

His fingers brush gently through her hair, gently tugging on the curls. It’s a comforting gesture.

He takes another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke linger around them, creating a haze in the air.

He stubs it out on the cold wet rock eventually his other hand still tangled in her hair.

He keeps his fingers in her hair, running them gently through the soft curls.

Her head is tucked into the crook of his neck, her breaths cool against his skin. Even the way she breathes is ever so slightly off. Slightly to cold.

They stay like that for an indefinite amount of time—her curled up against him, his hand gently carding through her curls—in complete silence.

He’s never been one for too many words, and she’s comfortable enough with him to not need any despite her nature of usually desiring no requiring constant noise.

He can still feel the faint cold in her body—evidence of that hunger inside her hunger for something she cannot have.

But he knows there’s nothing he can do about it.

He just keeps his arm around her and holds her close, feeling her breaths slowly even out as the hunger eventually subsides into a low thrum in the back of her mind.

The Seaspring glimmers before them, its red waters glistening in the starlight.

He can’t help but wonder if she’s fighting the constant temptation to just drink from it right now.

He’s seen her be tempted countless times before.

And he knows he can’t stop her if she decides to do it.

But for now, she’s not moving—doesn’t even stir and he’s grateful.

He doesn’t want her to give in, doesn’t want her to lose herself in the Hivemind.

He for one does not want to see her become just another voice in his head.

Not when he quite enjoys the fact that every usual conversation is a bit of a verbal brawl.

He takes another deep breath and smells the faint scent of smoke still lingering around them from his last cigarette.

He rubs little circles into her scalp where his hand has dug into her hair, hoping it’s enough to keep her grounded and focused on the present at least for a little while.

He fishes out another cigarette and she lights a small flame at the tip of her fingers and lights it for him. She always does.

.

.

.

.

.

(Have the AO3 link just in caseee)

[alistarascendance]

❝𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧?❞

— in which, fabled legend Alistar returns from the Chasm decades after their descent, only to find themself faced with an issue: humanity, in their absence, has created a world of suffering, dilapidated by greed, and Alistar’s presence only continues to fuel their selfishness, as a living legend must kill… or be killed.

Alistar: Ascendance is a cyberpunk, dystopian romance interactive fiction that was originally intended to simply be a story, before its writer (me) decided to be impulsive and turn it into an IF.

DISCLAIMERS

this story will contain depictions of alcohol, smoking, blood, violence, profanity, mild gore, yandere behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive themes, discrimination, self-hatred, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, suicidal thoughts, an oppressive government, fictional languages and religions, real world philosophies/religions including but not limited to: cynicism, nihilism and atheism; a corrupt world, discussion of morals and human conscience, as well as other mature themes. this list will be updated as the story is written.

please keep all of this in mind while reading!

A gender-selectable MC, who you choose the name, personality, sexuality, appearance, and morals of.

A wide variety of choices to choose from that will impact your story, and the need to keep your MC sane (or just go batshit insane. That works, too).

5 male love interests + 1 secret RO, all of whom you can maintain a simply platonic relationship with if you wish, or you can just continue to flirt with them endlessly (+ a FWB relationship for some).

An enriching world and story, set in a cyberpunk dystopia (we know all of you are here for the romance though).

A powerful MC 😔😔

ROs (romance options, also referred to as LIs or love interests).

THE SURFACE DWELLER:

Seven. 21, Chaotic Good. Mechanic.

“The HIVE needs to fall. There are no exceptions—not even for you.”

The first person you meet once you arrive on the Surface, you and Seven have a unique bond. He’s got a reputation in the slums and Neon for being great at parties, but his friendliness can easily be read as something more.

Is it something more? Further observations will have to be made…

THE SURVIVOR

Saturn. 23, Lawful Evil. Bartender.

“Keep your head down, and you’ll survive.”

The quiet bartender has a curious perspective on things. He seems to have no problem with the HIVE members patrolling his bar, even serving them drinks like they’re normal customers, despite their heavy armor and edges that are too sharp to be humane.

He also doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in you in the slightest. Why’s that?

THE DIPLOMAT

“Is it better to live in quiet solitude, your voice stripped and taken—or would you rather have died, knowing your voice was the loudest amongst them all?”

Chain. 23, alignment unclear. Current occupation unknown.

He’s someone to keep an eye out for. While he hasn’t practiced his craft in years, he may still prove to be dangerous. Just as friendly as Seven, but far more difficult to truly befriend.

Obtain new information as soon as possible…

THE PUPPET

Judge me if you must. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m up here, and you’re down there.

Orion. 25, Lawful Neutral. HIVE operative.

The HIVE member patrolling Saturn’s bar. Part of something greater than he is, but he’s a part of it, regardless. Keep him around…

OTHER ENTITIES

Argos: Neutral Good. Age unknown. The deity whose spear you brandished, after his passing. He was a good man, but the fact only makes your sins rest heavier in your heart.

Teacher: True Neutral. Around ~200 years old. The chasm-dwelling shadow who taught you all you know of the Chasm and its residents.

Alistar: alignment unknown. Around ~200 years old. That’s you! You’re Alistar. At least, that’s what the world has been calling you ever since you ended the war and revitalized humanity, so that is what you will be referred to as throughout the entirety of the story. However, if you’d like to change your name (as Alistar is the default) you may!

As I am primarily an author (as in I literally have done nothing else with my life) I am new to coding (I took ONE coding club in fourth grade) and am trying to write out and perfect a chapter before converting it into typical IF form.

Once I manage to get things situated, I’ll started to code. I’m currently almost done writing chapter 4, so I’ll start working on coding once I finish it.

If anyone wants to read the chapters I’ve written until now, just shoot me an ask or message :)) I’d be happy to show you. otherwise, here are the ones I’ve posted so far:

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE: COURTING DEATH CHAPTER TWO: THOSE WHO REMAIN CHAPTER THREE: TARNISHED DREAMS

asked to be tagged for new chapters!

[alientee]

Shimmer Head

Ekko x reader

6k+ words

Fem reeader

Hazbin hotel Easter egg included. Addicted song describes reader.

Warning: suicidal thoughts and actions, drug use not by choice though.

Im sorry it took so long yall I’ve been crocheting blankets for Christmas and life has been lifting with work

You were an anomaly, or at least that’s what Silco called you. Apparently he saved you at birth; one calm walk through Zaun's lanes, and your mom was an overdosing shimmer head who was getting her last fix before she pushed you out. You survived. This was something Silco never thought possible; even when you looked like a shivering, whining skeleton, you were strong, a survivor, and from that day on, you were his daughter.

As life went on, you got stronger, faster, and a little more insane; your eyes changed, looking like a wild mix of two different colors. You changed so much it confused you every day to see yourself. How the voices in your head would go from telling you to slaughter everyone to offing yourself.

Silco had you microdosed with shimmer ever since you were a newborn till now, and you handled it each and every time. You were his creation, his wild card. Even as a child, he had you by his side with torture, robbing, and meetings. You’ve done it all. There were days the voices really did get to you; sometimes it was better to hurt yourself rather than to crash. You can remember the times Silco had to stop you from hurting him and yourself. The scars on your arms, the bloodstains left on your clothes, the burn scars from throwing bone down without any care, ready to give it all up. Either you survived, or Silco was just in time.

So when you first met Jinx, your first thoughts were, This poor kid, she’s just a dreamer.

But she followed you around everywhere, calling you sis, saying she’d never leave your side, she’d never leave you no matter what. Not like her sister did. You didn’t believe her; how could you? No one but Silco ever saw you; he’s the only one that loved you.

Until she followed you to a club one night.

You spin around in the chair, listening to the grungy punk music, drunk, horny prowlers, angry wannabes, and goofy dancers mixing into the crowd. You sit in your chair in the corner of the club, drink in one hand, revolver in the other. One bullet, one drink—it was all a game to you. The gun clicked three times, and you took three shots before it was snatched from your hand. And lo and behold, it was your new shadow coming to ruin the fun.

“Hey, what gives, Blue Jay!”

“How are you going to be the big shot legacy Silco says if you're dead, dumbass!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“We’re family now, so yeah, you are!”

“You going to love me even if I try to kill Silco in his sleep?”

“I’d still love you even if you killed me with him.”

Family, huh?

“Fine.”

For the first time you didn’t take your game too far, or get fucked up and pass out behind the bar; you didn’t even have a mental breakdown.

At least the voices got quiet for a while.

After a while you started to think of Jinx as a sister. Someone you could confide in, someone who gets you. Was Silco the best dad? Nah, but he was all you had. Now you know he had Jinx too. You thought everything was ok; you could be happy with your found family; even if you were broken, you still had people to fix you up, so everything was fine.

At least you genuinely believed everything was alright.

Until Jinx’s actual sister showed up, calling her Powder, the hugging, the crying, the family reunion was cute. You haven’t seen Jinx this vulnerable in a while. Everything was calm until some Piltie came out, and then the moment was gone. Jinx threatens the redhead with the gun, and boom, the Firelights had you all surrounded.

“Jinx, if you want your sister back, you gotta be smart about this.” The silence you got back let her know she was thinking up something stupid.

Smoke and ash covered the air, bullets flying and fighting at every turn. The firebugs just didn’t know when to quit, always trying to get into business that isn’t theirs. It was fun knocking them off their boards every once in a while. You’ve faced them before with Jinx killed a couple of times; you didn’t kill any of them, though. Never had the guts to really kill innocent people; you didn’t want to know what the voices would say if you did. You didn’t want to lose yourself all the way.

As always, Jinx is shooting bullets every which way in the sky, which wasn’t bad, but using bombs to blow up the platform is very bad. Your body hurt, your ears were ringing, and you could barely breathe. You tried calling out for Jinx but got no answer. You finally dragged yourself up; you can see some fire bugs down, but you couldn’t see Jinx. Couldn’t see her sister. Didn’t even see the body lying dead somewhere.

Huh, you were all alone.

Then it dawned on you: Jinx did it on purpose. She really was a genius, truly. She blew up the platform, making a distraction; a lot of people were down and out. Nobody could see what was happening; some too injured to chase.

Looks like she could only carry her sister to safety, though.

You’ll never leave me no matter what, huh?

Hehehehehe, yeah right!

You could finally breathe again and got the strength to stand up. It was all just so funny, really.

Bunch of bullshit hahahahaha

You didn’t notice anything going on around you, the shuffling of people standing; you didn’t feel all the cautious eyes on you. Not that you cared; all you cared about were the voices screaming at you so loud you could swear your ears were bleeding.

Walking towards the edge of the platform is easy. Turning around and giving a mock salute to the firelights with a smile on your face was easy. But dropping to your death knowing the last thing playing in your headphones was your and Jinx's song, it fucking burned every lyric you tried to sing just turned to ash in your mouth.

But at least now the voices would stop forever. The air rushed through your ears and then nothing.

Out like a light

You woke up in an eerily dark room; honestly, it was predictable. Down to the moldy smell, the silence, and the creepy guy in the corner with a mask. And you honestly should’ve been more mad at yourself for getting saved; you couldn’t even die in peace!

“Why am I alive, dammit!”

The silence was so annoying; there’s no need to try and be intimidating. You’ve seen worse. You hate people who try those tactics; you can’t torture someone who’s already tortured every day. Geez, just kill them if they don’t tell you what you want.

“Look, I’m not going to tell you shit, so just kill me already!”

And then the mask comes off. You don’t know him, but you knew him, apparently jinx’s past. The boy savior, she calls him; he looks just like she said he would. You also remember what she told you about him. “Better watch out; the boy savior likes to think he can save everybody.”

Ok, you can deal with a wannabe hero.

“Your on shimmer. You are an addict; Slico has you do his dirty work, and he gives you your next fix. Am I right?”

You’re really fucking wrong. Scratch that; you didn’t want to deal with the wannabe hero.

“So how about you tell me what I need to know, and you get to lay low somewhere secret and get off that shit before you try and die again while Silco just replaces you?”

The voices started to get louder, your throat tight and blood dripping from your palms for how tight you started to squeeze them. His words were like acid on your skin. Just who did this asshole think he was?

“First of all, dipshit, I’m his daughter! Ok, not some random street rat shimmer head he feeds. Second of all, shimmer makes people stronger. I should know; came right out of my druggie mom, still living and breathing, full of shimmer! I’ve been injected with it since Silco adopted me! He says I’m perfect; he says I'm his legacy. I don’t do his dirty work; I help him make Zaun better! So you're dead fucking wrong, wannabe!”

Now he’s looking at you like you’re crazy…. And you're used to that.

“This is better? Our people are dying all around us. Kids are abandoned! People are sick and starving. How is this better?”

“Blame Piltover! Duh!”

“It’s Piltover. And Silco, are you crazy??!!”

That word. It always did something to you. You didn’t care when people looked at you like you were... but calling you crazy? Different story. Something that made all the voices laugh, an itch in your brain that told you to break, hurt, destroy, kill, and show them your insane.

“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! Hahahahahahahahaha. All of Piltover and Zaun is going to burn you, and your fucking bugs are going to be ash! I’m not crazy. I’m perfect. I’m perfect he said”—

Your music!?! Where were your headphones?!!?

You were so numb, in a really dark place, you never fully remembered how your episodes went. When that singed guy injected you with your first microdose of shimmer, all you remembered was the screaming and Silco whispering how proud he was. But Ekko would remember it all even in his dreams. How you banged your head against the pole you were tied against over and over again. Crying tears of shimmer while laughing hysterically until blood dripped on the side of your head. Only to end up sobbing.

The voices screamed and screamed and screamed. Until they stopped, they never just stopped without music or silco. And you never had this heavy feeling over your ears without your headphones.

Oh, it’s this Ekko guy. What is he doing? Why is he holding his hands over your face? Why is he looking at you like that?

“I’m sorry. You’re not crazy. I promise, okay? Breath for me nice and slow.”

This was nice: everything quiet, everything nice and warm. This is new, huh?

“Hey!? Wai”—

Out like a light again

“She’s a danger to the base!”

“We can help her. She’s not like Jinx! She’s the product of a bad situation. She’s not with Silco because she wants to be; it’s because it’s all she knows.”

“She’s a mess; keeping her here is like bringing bullshit to our door!”

“He’s been injecting her with shimmer since she was an infant! We can’t kick her out!”

“Can y'all shut up sleeping here?”

Bat Guy and Ekko just stared at you.

“Look, I don’t care what you do to me; can I just have my damn headphones? The voices, ya know, they’re telling me to escape and kill everyone here. Soooooo, my earphones, pretty please.”

The boy wonder hands them over and puts them over your ears. And even with no music playing, everything feels peaceful. The whole time, he and Bat Boy are still going back and forth; this time you couldn’t hear it, though. Finally you get silence, if only for a moment. You almost bit Ekko when he moved one of them back off.

“Look, let’s compromise: you get a little freedom, supervised. And we get one shimmer shipment location… not the factory, just the shipment.”

“No bullshit babysitters; it’s you or nothing.”

“...fine.”

You could’ve told him to fuck off and die. Make him eat his sappy little words. But after the way he held your ears, he looked like a kicked puppy for making you freak out. How softly he said sorry. It was different; it was new. You didn’t do soft, not that much.Silco always told you to play your enemies, so maybe giving a little bait wouldn’t be too bad.

“Fine, boy wonder, I’ll give you a shipment that’s all.”

“Thank you.”

There he goes, looking at you like that again.

Like some kind of puppy. What a sucker.

Ekko took you outside, but you didn’t want to socialize, so he kept you both at a good distance from the others. While taking you out of the base, you didn’t want to look at anyone. If you saw any leering faces and judging eyes, you knew you’d lash out.

Oddly enough, you didn’t want to smack the fuck out of Ekko's face. Maybe a little bit, not a lot. You didn’t know what it was, but Ekko was calming; his presence was like a warmth in the dark murk of Zaun. You didn’t understand how he could be so... normal with all of this around him.

Maybe it was the fact that he actually took you out of the hideout and onto a roof to look over Piltover. You could’ve knocked him out, taken his board, and run. Why is he so stupidly trusting? “How do you do it?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do what?” You raise one back “Be so happy-go-lucky when we live in a place like Zaun.” That made him stop his steps, and he looks serious; you haven’t seen him unless he’s talking about shipments.

“I have to make a change for the people who can’t help themselves; I want to give people something to live for; the firelight is my way of doing that.”

And there he goes again, making your mind feel funny again. It sounds like he means it; everything Ekko says always sounds genuine, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to believe him.

“Alright then, help me by teaching me how to ride one of those hoverboard things.” Ekko’s eyes get wide, and his mouth even opens a little. “You want to learn? I’ve been trying to get you to do that for a week. What changed?” You didn’t want to let him know the real reason, so you decided to play it off.

“Just thought I could kick your butt at something, boy wonder,” he scoffed. You knew he hated the nickname; it was too fun teasing him to stop, though.

“Alright, alright. If you’re so confident, then I’ll teach you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you end up falling off a few times.”

“I’ll be a pro; just you wait and see.”

You were in fact not a pro. Your knees were scuffed, and the dirt on your clothes was a testament to just how many times you hit the dirt. “Sorry this is taking so long; I feel fucking stupid.” Ekko grabs your hands and pulls you up, grabbing the board. “Don’t; it takes everyone a minute to learn this is no different. How do you think I feel? I made it; I had to test it and fall a lot.” You give him a nod, deciding to take the board back with a little more confidence this time. “What a boy genius you are,” you got a snort in return.

“Now, remember, hoverboards are pretty sensitive. You have to find your balance and keep it steady. And be careful not to lean too far to one side or the other, or you’ll tip over.” Ekko watches you carefully as you mount the hoverboard, his arms crossed over his chest. The hoverboard begins to move forward as you lean, slowly at first, but steadily gaining speed.

You could hear Ekko yelling behind you, “There you go, you’re doing great! Just keep your balance and focus on the path ahead.”

“What about turns!? What if I fall??”

“Don’t worry; I’ll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You got the hang of it after a while; you both went back to the base riding your hoverboard and even racing some of the kids. It was a good time, no responsibilities, no expectations. It still hurt you; there was no Silco, but at least you had distractions.

Ekko seemed to show up when he wasn’t asked; it’s like he knew when to butt into people's business.

He was there during your worst moments of loneliness. When the darkness was too much, when the voices kept repeating the insults louder and crueler. Telling you to kill yourself, that you're nothing, worthless, not good enough, burn the firelight base to the ground, and watch everyone around you die. You’ll only end up alone anyway. The smell of ash and blood, you could remember it by heart. Tears pouring out of your eyes continuously, you didn’t even sob. You had nothing to be sad about in the moment. You just naturally cried, and all you could do was scream, hoping I’d stop. Sitting in the dark waiting for it all to end. Thinking, hoping that just maybe one day you’d be blessed enough not to wake up.

It wasn’t until you felt Ekko's heavy gloves on your shoulder. Asking if you were ok, if you needed anything, if you needed him. Looking at you like you're the only thing that mattered in the moment. Moving to sit next to you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. “You don’t have to talk; just know I’m right here with you. I’m not going anywhere.” Those days were hard, but it always felt nice to have Ekko lying on the floor next to you, no words, just his company.

He even let you into his little workshop. His words: “You don’t have to knock. If you need me, just come in” You’d hand him his tools and use all the knowledge you had on tech to help. You used to make a lot of trinkets that helped your day-to-day life. You didn’t like to make weapons like Jinx, but you could make a mean bomb. You’ve even fallen asleep to his tinkering and his little nerd-out moments. “You're such a dork.” He wouldn’t even take his eyes off his invention.

“Shush if you're not going to help.”

“Touchy touchy. Here, let me look, boy genius.” When you actually put in effort to help him, he’d look at you from the side of his eye, and you’d pretend like you didn’t notice the small smile creeping up on his face. Sitting by his side until late at night, making new things to help out in the base. Both your giggles and the metal clanking were the only things heard at 3 am.

And that’s how it was for a month. Ekko is coming in, trying to coax you into giving up Silco; you give him a little info, and he folds and gives you what you want for the day. You had a good thing going. So why’d he want to ruin it now? You were fine seeing the kids; you made small talk with one of the firelight girls, but that’s it. Everyone else you dealt with in passing. So why was Ekko so set on you interacting with more people?

“How about we hang out with the group for a bit?”

“I’m fine; I hate people.”

“Look, I’m just trying to—“

“I don’t need help! I don't need friends! I—I need my dad; I need…. I need to feel in control. It still feels like I’m a fucking prisoner even if you say I’m not.

Ekko doesn’t talk for a minute; you can tell he’s trying to choose his words wisely, his white locs covering his face. “I don’t know what you see in Silco, even if he took you in…. You can’t tell me you truly see the good in what he’s doing.

You didn’t answer him. Afraid you’ll say something you’ll regret by lashing out. He didn’t get it; he didn’t get you! Silco was your dad; Silco helped you ignore the voices; he loved you even if he had a funny way of showing it.

“He’s not the best dad in the world, but he’s my dad. He helped me when I had no one. Doesn’t that count for something?”

Ekko didn’t answer you; it’s like he wanted to argue, but he knew you needed this.

“Just... just give it a chance; you may find your people.”

If he heard your scoff, he didn’t react to it.

I don’t have people; all I have is my dad and myself, even when I don’t love myself.

Ekko’s soft words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“You have me too.”

“Until how long, hmmm, till I run out of information?”

“That’s no—“

“Hey, Ekko, tell me how I survived the day I jumped.”

Ekko went back silent; he was giving you that look again, and you hated it. It’s like he saw everything within you, and it made you feel naked, like you couldn’t hide.

“Oh that… flew down to save you.”

“Why?”

“When you smiled at us before you fell, I thought you were asking for help.”

You giggled at that; only Ekko would think of saving his enemy who tried to off themselves in front of him. “Your something else, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower!? What kind of flower is that? We don’t have those in Zaun.”

“Alright, take me out or whatever it is you want.”

“D-don’t say it like that. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the kids.”

You never knew Zaun could look like this, or even have a tree, and now the name firelights makes sense: nothing but a lush green tree with the fireflies all around it. It’s peaceful, plush; it’s nice. You got a few looks here and there, but it’s fine; ekkos here, and you weren’t forced to hang out with who you didn’t want to.

And that’s how you spent your day bonding with Ekko and even the kids; they weren’t as judgy, and you appreciated it. Even when they had questions, it didn’t feel pointed. “Why do you always wear those things on your head?” your headphones; you never took them off, never could bring yourself to part from the one thing that helps stop the voices, no matter how battered and dingy they are. “They’re headphones. They help me when I’m scared or upset.” “Oooooh, I get it; my mask helps me! Makes me feel stronger!” “Good, use your strength to become the best firelight you can be.”

That’s how the day started and ended: you playing with the kids, running around, playing tag and hide and seek until the night came. The kids gathered around, using common objects around them to make a little band; music brings a lot of the firelights together, and somebody brings an actual scrap-made speaker playing louder music. Some even start to dance. And in this moment you couldn’t help but think maybe Ekko was right; maybe these people were ok.

You grab the overworking leader by the arm and pull him with you. “What is it?”

“Come on, Ekko, let’s dance!”

“Dance?”

“Yeah, you scared boy wonder?“

“Not at all, but um… why?”

“Who doesn’t like dancing!”

That’s when the music hits and nothing else matters. Ekko moves effortlessly, his body flowing in perfect harmony with yours. He keeps you close, his chest pressed against yours as he twirls you around. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. Your body’s moving in rhythm as the music gets Ekko pulls you closer, one hand resting on your waist while the other takes hold of your hand, spinning you. He begins to sway gently, guiding you in a slow dance. Holding each other’s sides, swaying back and forth. Every minute you got to look in Ekkos's eyes, seeing him smile at you like that did something to you; he really was something else.

You couldn’t let those eyes shake you, though. You knew it was only a matter of time before it all went to hell; no one really gives a damn about you, no one except Silco. But maybe if you were a better daughter, he would’ve found you by now.

Ekko could only look at you in confusion when you walked away from him, away from the gathering. He thought it was a good moment that he was finally getting through to you. But he wasn’t one to push, not when he knew what you’d been through, but he followed you up the stairs to the treehouse.

And when he found you, the silence was heavy but comfortable. That’s how it was with you too, and you’d never say it out loud, but he made you feel safe.

“Do you want to stay here?”

You timidly glanced into his eyes before you took a deep breath. “I don’t know,” you looked away, closing your eyes, trying to stop yourself from getting out of hand. Ekko hummed, leaving more silence in between you both, and then he asked another, “Even if you know Silco loves you, it isn’t healthy.”

You opened your eyes as a bitter taste remained in your mouth. Your face contorted into different expressions as you debated with yourself on whether or not you would share.

“My mother was a shimmer addict; she had me right as she overdosed. And Silco found me; I was different; I survived even with a small, premature body full of shimmer. He said I was unique, that I could change all of Zaun. I believe him. I’ve done a lot of great things… at least I think so. Even if you don’t agree with him, he saved me.

“But you're not okay—

“Don’t tell me what I am! I’m perfect as I am; he said so! I may not be normal, but I am living instead of surviving, Ekko! Can’t you see that?”

“I do. But you know what else I see? I see how happy you are riding your board; I see how sweet you are with the kids, especially when you steal yarn from the top side and crochet stuff for them; I see how you care for Raven when you think she’s not looking by finding her favorite things to surprise her without letting her know it was you; I see how you truly care for the people you're loyal to. You touch people's lives and leave light in your wake. I see how beautiful you are inside and out. You’re your own person, not what Silcos made you! You can do better than what he has you doing.”

“Is that what you’ve come up with in your mind? That I’m just this lost, misguided girl who was groomed to be fucked up? News flash! Boy Wonder, I’m in Zaun. I was going to be fucked up regardless of Silco! Who do you think I am, huh? Don’t act like you know me, 'cause you don’t! Stop trying to change me into something I’m not! I’m not some knockoff version of Jinx you can fix just because I decided to be nice a few times. What?! I’m your little powder passion project. Couldn’t save her, so you’re trying to save me because we both have family, daddy, and abandonment issues?!”

You knew it was a low blow, but even though she left you, you couldn’t help but think about Jinx’s words, taking them to heart, and everything she told you. “He likes to think he can save everyone.”

He narrowed his eyes at your response; you could see him clenching his fist and clenching his teeth. His eyes no longer looking at you with acceptance or worry like you were used to, only irritation

“I wasn’t trying to change her; I thought she was in danger. I didn’t know she went with that piece of shit willingly…. I thought I could save her; I needed to because she was my friend.”

“Ohhhhh, that’s right, you’re the boy savior!”

His eyes went from a glare to cold and lifeless.

“Fuck you. You know nothing; you only know Jinx's pain but not mine. You’re right about one thing, though: you and Jinx are similar. So I don’t know why I was stupid enough to try and help you; just like her, you don’t deserve it.” That just pissed you off more.

“I didn’t ask you to help me! I didn’t ask for you to save me from offing myself! I didn’t ask for you to try and fucking fix me or my life!”

“I’m not trying to change you; I’m trying to give you something better! A chance! Silco didn’t give you a chance; he used you! Your work, a tool! If you survived on shimmer this long since birth, you're proof that his product can lead to something greater than he thought. But it’s at the expense of you and your health.” His voice lowers, his breathing heavy. “Please… tell me you see it. You have to know that keeping you on shimmer as long as he has wasn’t to help you. Only him.”

In the back of your mind you knew; you always knew. And yet the faith he put in you gave your heart love you’ve never felt before. How he always stated he was proud of you, said you were the best thing to happen in his life, that you're his legacy, his daughter. But what was the cost for your heart, suicidal thoughts, breakdowns, nightmares, and dissociation? A mother that never wanted you, a father that loved you but not enough to see your pain, only your potential. “Hey Ekko, thank you. For saving me and making me realize. I don’t want people to end up like me... because I’m not ok.”

“Then let me he“—”. He didn’t get to finish before you pushed back, making him crash into the tree behind him. You jumped from the stairs on the tree; you didn’t care about the fall because it’s the freest you ever felt. You could hear the other fireflies yelling, but the adrenaline and the wind in your ears helped you ignore them. As soon as you fell, you pushed forward, not caring about the pain in your legs and ankles. Grabbing a hoverboard before speeding off and out of the hideout.

When Ekko got up, he didn’t chase you, nor did he call out for you; all he could do was watch. Scar rushed up to him, looking at him expectingly. “She’s going to go back to Silco!? We have to catch her before she rats us out!?” Ekko didn’t react to his words, only looking forward to where you had run. “Ekko!” And when Ekko finally looked at Scar, he just shrugged. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.” “She’s not coming back." Ekko, she’s been waiting for an opportunity to escape, and we let her!”

Ekko just shook his head, picking up something off the ground. “She’ll be back.” “How do you know!?” Ekko moved his hand in front of Scar, showing him what he picked up. “She left her headphones.” Scar just scoffed. “That doesn't mean anything.” Ekko just shook his head. “Trust me, if you knew her like I do, you’d know it meant everything.”

You wandered around one of Silco's biggest shimmer factories, where most of his shipments go. You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth. “I’m addicted to the madness~” You turned on your headphones, singing along, tuning out the noise below, scummy workers and henchmen everywhere. “Let me leave my soul a-burning; I’ll be breathing it in.” Sneaking down through the crawl spaces, you laid out bombs everywhere you could stick them. You set up trap after trap after trap after trap. You knew this place like the back of your hand, so it was easy to get in and get out.

“I’m addicted to the feeling, getting higher than the ceiling~” This place had meaning to you… this was the first place Silco took you when he felt like you were ready to work for him. The first place where he showed you the ropes was the same place he had you start your injections. The same place you had your first breakdown. This felt like a goodbye to the past, the pain, everything that made you feel inadequate. You don’t know what you’d be without Silco; you knew the voices would never fully leave, but at least with this you could let your dad know you were ok and that you were going your own way.

“Just concede and give in to your inner demons again~” You hit the button, and it all blew up—the building, the workers.

And you too. Hopefully, Silco can forgive you for not saying goodbye.

It’s been 3 months; Ekko waited for you to return. But after a while he could only assume you’d either gone your own way or something terrible happened. Missions still happened with no sign of you with Silco's goons, and there’s talk about the huge explosion that happened, so he couldn’t pinpoint what had happened to you; all he had to give him comfort about your departure was your headphones. He never touched them, only keeping them by his bedside with your memory lingering with him whenever there in his sight. But today at 12 am, he finally had the courage to tinker with them, hopefully fixing them up.

He was concentrating so hard he didn’t hear the door open; it was Scar. “Your stray is back,” and as soon as he came, he left.

“Hey sunflower,” he jumped and turned around so quickly you thought he’d fall out of the chair. He did slip a little as he rushed to hug you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh.

“Missed me?” He squeezed your torso, chuckling a little. “Missed your humor, not your bullshit.” You poked at his side, making him jump. “Lies, you missed that too. Everyone else is boring.

He pulls you over to his patched-up couch, both of you plopping down. You lean into his touch, laying on his shoulder. Neither of you said anything; you didn’t need to. You don’t know what you expected when it came to his reaction. But you’re glad Ekko didn’t pressure you to talk about anything or question what you’d been doing. You’d tell him one of these days. The withdraws, breakdowns, you almost ending it all. But right now you just wanted to enjoy his company; being alone for months took its toll, so it’s good to be back in a warming presence.

It took everything in you to not go back to Silco, to everything that was easier. But you pulled it off, and you hope Ekko could see that you really are trying. “Was it you?” He spoke so softly you thought you just imagined it, but Ekkos looking into your eyes let you know it was real. And you knew what he meant; your explosion was nothing but destruction, but you wanted to leave that behind you. So you said the only thing that was closest to the truth. “I’m following my own path now, Ekko.” When you looked back at him, it almost took your breath away. Those stupid, big, brown eyes looking at you with so much warmth you could’ve melted right then and there. It made you sick.

“I’m happy for you... So you’re just visiting?”

“Geez, trying to kick me out already, huh?” He shook his head. “Of course not. I just…. I want you to be happy and go your own way, even if it’s not here with me.” You looked away, biting your cheek. “So what if I wanted to be happy here?”.

“Then I’d make a space for you right now; you’re always welcome.”

“Even in your room~”

“Yeah, you can stay with me if you want.”

You felt all your thoughts falter and come to a stop once the words were out of his mouth. You paused and looked at him, face red. “Easy there; we don’t want everyone jealous that the big boss in charge is playing favorites.” He pulls you so close, too close. His nose and forehead touching your own. You don’t know this Ekko, Ekko who always was too shy to flirt back, who was always the gentleman, who only gave fleeting touches like he was afraid to break you. “You are my favorite; you’ll always be someone special to me.” You couldn’t help pushing his buttons, not wanting him to see your face reddening.

“Leaders shouldn’t show favoritism, ya know. I’m going to need something for me to keep quiet; wouldn’t want to hurt the kiddies feelings, would you? out of all the things you expected Ekko to say, you didn’t expect what he’d do.

Ekko leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. It’s slow and tender; the brush of his lips is so soft. He takes his time, savoring the feel of your lips against his, pouring all of his love and affection into the kiss. He leaned back and smiled warmly as he continued to gently caress your cheek. He looked at you with a soft, affectionate expression, his gaze filled with adoration thatyou’d noticed before. You just never had the guts to call him out on it.

“Is that enough to keep you quiet?”

“It's a start.”

[massiv3tr33p3rsona]

Unveiled | Terrance X Wynnie (Black Fem OC)

Hidden Part II.

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Winona ‘Wynnie/Wyn’ (Black Fem OC)

Summary: After being evicted from the motel amidst an incoming dust storm, Wynnie is invited to stay with Terrance at his townhouse, where their unaddressed feelings began to intertwine.

Warnings: SMUT (no physical sex), 18+ (MINORS DNI!), a bit lengthy, mastrubating (m and f), titty sucking/playing, toy use (m and f), fluff, emotional feelings, mention of suicide, mentioning of grooming/abusive behavior/trauma/virginity loss, mild PTSD (fem), fear, cursing, smoking, drinking

Parts: I • III • IV • V • VI • VII • VIII • Epilogue

Dividers Made By: @cursed-carmine @thecutestgrotto

A/N I: Probably the most erotic piece of work I have ever written because I thought I was gonna struggle with it, but I am happy with the way it came out. And ignore how his photo looks. That’s the best one I could find of him laying on the couch.

THIS IS MY WORK, SO PLEASE DO NOT STEAL IT.

Wynnie wakes up, looking around the soon to be empty room, feeling exhausted.

She’s worn out from yesterday‘s all day work of packing everything she came with, reeling from Berlinda’s bombshell reveal that Starland is no longer taking assistance program as payments anymore.

She looks at the clock to see what time it was, getting the feeling that it’s a bit late.

10:15 is what it said, making her jump out of there quickly and running to the bathroom.

“Fuck, fuck!” she exclaimed, turning on the shower.

She realized she is super late to her session with Terrence, who was probably about to call her or text her soon to see where she was at.

After taking a quick shower and putting her shower items in her bag, she does her skincare and brushes her teeth, packing those up as well.

Applying her body care, which she packs and changing into her last outfit: a green plaid unbuttoned shirt, a black tank top, black bootie shorts, and black open toed boots, she leaves her curls out, deciding on being a lazy day to be pampered.

Placing her final things into the car, she drops her room keys off at reception, bids farewell to Berlinda before hopping in and driving off.

Two hours go by with speeding later, she pulls up to OuterMore as she usually does, grabbing her bag and locking her car.

She walks in, having a worrying expression that he was probably mad at her being late or not showing up.

However, as she got closer to the reception desk, she sees Terrance standing in front of it, a wave of shock come across him as he saw her, walking up quickly.

Dressed in a dark green short sleeve shirt, black pants, and dark green shoes, he looks almost identical to her as he got closer.

“I was about to call the police to check on you.” he said, hugging her quickly.

She hugs him back, melting in his warm embrace. She begins to cry, letting out soft muffles against his chest.

“Woah, what the hell hap….” as he looks down, confusion on his face.

She looks up, seeing his genuine eyes staring at her, taking in her gloomy face. He softly traces over her cheek, taking out a handkerchief and wiping it softly before doing the same to the other one.

“Did..did I do this? Cause of how I left you the other night?” he asked quietly, guilt in his voice.

She shakes her head, gently rubbing his hand.

“I can explain. Just not out here. Sorry for being late.” she replied, looking down.

“Don’t be. At least I know you’re still here.” he said, smiling a bit.

She nods, feeling him let go as he walks to the doors, holding one open for her. She follows, entering the familiar hallway as he closes the door.

Entering his office, she immediate takes a seat as he walks in, locking the door.

“Heard about that dust storm coming?” he asked, walking to the fridge.

“Yeah. They said it’s suppose to be a terrible one.” she replied, fiddling with her ring.

“Mmhm. Usually lasts two days here. Because the planet has gotten so much hotter over the last 40 years, it lasts seven days here.” as he returns with water bottles, placing once in front of her.

“Seven?” as she looks at him, watching him nod.

“Weather is a little more dangerous in the MidWest. I think it’s much worse when you’re close to water.”

He began placing the dots on her, remembering her placements with easy as he continues explaining dust storms.

How hot it gets, how the amount of dust can cause long-term health problems or kill you if you inhale too much of it, and how the state of Iowa paid a lot of money for everyone’s houses, apartments, or other buildings to get rebuilt into duststorm proof so they didn’t get damaged from it.

“Almost like tornadoes.” she said.

“Yeah. Almost like that” as he puts the last button on her foot, gently tracing over it.

Silence falls between them as Terrance trails his hand up to her knee, swiping over the small ridges over it, watching her face relax.

“Your legs always looked like this?” as he moves towards her thighs, squeezing on the plushness.

She nods, covering her mouth to hold back a moan as he does the same to her other one, this time massaging it.

He leans down, placing soft kisses over it while keeping his eyes on her, a yearn in his eyes.

As much as she was enjoying this, the thoughts of where she was going to stay still lingered her mind, making her gently move his hands away.

“We can’t. I don’t wanna get you in trouble.” she said somberly, looking away.

He sighed, getting up and fixing his pants before grabbing the tablet.

“Well, I went grocery shopping and got everything I need to restock on and new stuff. Got an extra charging battery thing in case we lose power. And changed my air conditioner filters to make sure no dust gets in.” as he sat down, pulling up the questions.

He places the recorder on the table, changing the tape for a fresh new one.

“What about you?” as he looks at her, seeing her face with a sad expression.

“Um…guess I can’t stay in my car during this.” she began, seeing his face turn into confusion.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you at Starland?”

She shakes her head, feeling her face becoming hot.

“I, uh, got evicted. Can’t take assistance as payment anymore due to a policy change.”

“What?” he said in a shocked voice.

“Yeah. Berlinda said it was…unexpected. So I spent all day packing my shit while looking up places that might take out. Surprise: none.” as her voice began to slightly break.

“So that’s why you haven’t been answering your phone.”

She looks at him in confusion before taking it out of bag, checking it.

“Yeah, I called you and sent you a few texts since Sunday. Thought you were just ignoring me.”

“….No, It’s just dead.” she said, chuckling nervously.

“Forgot to charge it, but it’s fine. It’s always fine.” as she sighed, putting it back into her bag.

“No it’s not. It’s okay to not be fine.” he said, watching her move away.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll just…” as she sniffles. “Go to a shelter or something.”

“Wyn, don’t.” he said quietly, getting up to sit next to her as she begins to cry, bawling into her hands.

He pulls her into his arms, letting her lay on his chest and cry, her soft whimpers feeling the room.

She does this for a few more minutes, before lifting her head, taking out the handkerchief he gave her, wiping them.

“You’re not staying in a shelter.” he said with demand.

“Terrance, please.” as she sniffles.

“Don’t “Terrance, please” me. You can stay at my house. I have an extra room.” he said, grabbing her hand, but she snatches it back.

“You’re always done enough.” as she turns away.

He looks at her lowly, anger slowly moving across him as he backs up, giving her space.

“Winona.” he said in a dark voice. “Its about 10 hours before that storm hits us. You said Starland was the only place who gave you a roof over your head and that was a two hour drive to get here weekly.”

Wynnie squeezes her hands tightly, feeling that familiar tingle that she’s used to feeling when she is being spoken to in a certain way she hates.

“I doubt Des Moines has a hotel or motel you can stay at. Even the shelters might be full since others might have nowhere to go. And it’s currently going through northern Missouri. Which means you have less than five hours to find a place to stay.”

“Can we drop it?” she said, rubbing her head.

“Wyn, I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Please stop doing that. I get that it’s your job, but this is on me.”

“And what? I’m suppose to let you go out there and search, knowing you might die?”

“Enough!” she yells, jumping up.

He jumps back, shocked by her loud voice. She shakes a bit, pulling the handkerchief roughly.

“I don’t like your tone.” she said quietly.

“Reminds me of his voice belittling me over the smallest thing before he harmed himself or someone else to hurt me.” as she looks at him, tears in her eyes.

“Like I said, you done enough. Please don’t push me and make me leave much sooner. We got a little bit left to do and I’m not gonna take orders from anyone who acts like him, intentional or not.” she added, wiping her tears.

He looks away, clenching his jaw as he gets up, standing in front of her.

“…I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to go that far with my seriousness. Won’t happen again.” he said, not looking at her.

She eyes him, feeling his growing heat flowing off him. But deep down, something about his instant possessiveness woke something inside her up.

And in a good way.

“Please sit so we can begin.” as he carefully walks past her, taking his seat again.

She obliges, sitting down and adjusting herself as he grabs the tablet, pressing the record button.

“So.” as he clears his throat. “The last time we talked, you were telling and…showing me the tattoos and scars you have. With your comfortability.”

“Mmhm.” she replied, tugging at the handkerchief.

“One is your beautiful name in cursive on your wrist. The other one is a bouquet of sunflowers on your hip.” as he traces over his tablet.

“But my question isn’t about those. It’s about the scars. How did you get them?” as he looks at her, feeling uncomfortable asking that.

Wynnie freezes, hearing that question replay in her head a few times. She looks at her right wrist tattoo, tracing over the scar that it covers, feeling the memory play.

“…..This one came from a broken glass I shattered.” as she shows him.

“About a few weeks into being Tolons, I tried to take my own life. The thought of marrying a man old enough to be my father and raising a child that the other wives couldn’t produce against your will….just wasn’t me.”

Terrance looks away, feeling horrible about hearing the details.

“So, that night. I went downstairs, grabbed an empty beer bottle from the recycle, and smashed it against the counter.” as her breathing picked up.

“Found the biggest piece and instantly dragged it across. Thought it was going to hurt since I’ve heard it does, but..it felt relieving. Like for the first time since my grandmother’s death, I finally felt like I made it to the end.” she said, smiling a bit.

“Finally free, going….home to be with her. So, I tried to cut the other one. But was stopped by members, shouting and screaming at what I did as the blood poured out fast. He was pissed at me ruining my “soft skin”, so he cut my daily meals from three a day to one as punishment.”

“Did…” as he hesitated. “Did he do that often?”

“Yeah.” as she nodded. “Only when I was insulting him back. Got easily offended, but fuck him. I didn’t harm myself after that since I was not allowed to do anything without his presence. Which played into the scar on my hip.” as she touches it.

He looks at her right side, watching her gently rub over it while tensing up.

“Got it year two after the wedding. Escaped out of the window and tried to go through the metal fence they built to make sure no one tried to leave. There was a large hole in it, which I knew I could easily fit into.”

“Wyn.” he said, discomfort across his face.

She looks at him, agitation in her face.

“You don’t have to tell me, you know?”

“But you asked.” as she slightly gets irritated.

“Doesn’t mean you have to answer.”

“Why not? You already got most of my pain on recording. Why stop now?”

“…cause I hate seeing you look in pain when talking about it. I know it’s my job but….i don’t know. Just hate seeing you look emotionally distraught.” he admitted, rubbing his face.

She looks at him sideways, scoffing loudly as her body begins to heat up.

“Well, I’m sorry that your poor innocent ears have to hear this. But that was my life. I went through it, not you.” she replied coldly, seeing his face drop.

“And this is very important for other me, right? So please, can we continue?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

He sucks his teeth, trying to fight responding to that in a mean way as he taps his tablet.

“Go ahead. I’ll be quiet.” he replied lowly.

“Thanks.” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Tried to get through the hole carefully. Upper half was fine. Lower half? Not so much. I saw the lights turn on in the bedroom and panicked, so I pushed myself out too fast. The metal….” as she trails off, feeling her chest burning.

She hears her painful screams from that night play, jumping a bit. The images of her skin being torn up, members running out to help her, and Alfonso yelling followed, making her gasp.

“Winona?” she can hear him say, but shakes her head, looking down as she lets the tears fall, breathing quietly.

“Torn me open. Lost a lot of blood. And the girl who did the stitching did a shit job because it got infected. Lost more blood, my skin lighten, and I just felt like I wasn’t gonna make it at the time.” she said, closing her eyes.

“Begging my grandmother to let me come home. Just take me away from this place. I want to see her face, meet grandad and dad, be in the garden again. Eating her home cooked meals, telling me about each planet or flower….i just wanted that back.” she tearfully admitted, sniffling.

Terrance rubs his eyes, blinking fast to stop the tears from falling out.

“I recovered.” as she opens her eyes. “Guess that was a sign from her that she didn’t want me to come home yet. Few months later, I escaped successfully.”

She looks at him, who was watching with sympathy in his face, typing quietly in front of him.

“She got me out. Just had to wait a little longer.” as she lays back, looking at the ring.

He nodded, adjusting himself in his seat as he took a sip of his water, clearing his throat.

“And what about the three star symbol ones?” he asked.

She takes a sip of her water before sitting up, squeezing her hands close as she dazes off, trying to figure out an answer.

Terrance watches patiently, worried that he may have crossed the line again.

“…..can I be honest?” she finally asked, looking at him.

“Yeah.” he replied.

“I been lying about something I told you. And the courts.” as she rubs her hands together, feeling scared.

“Not because I want people to feel bad for me. But because I never told anyone. And I mean anyone about it. So please, do not tell anyone else about it.” she added, letting out a soft breath.

Terrance nods, assuring that he won’t as he hits the pause button on the recorder, pausing it.

“Whatever you say stays with me. I promise.” he said, closing his tablet.

Wynnie nods, pushing her hair back as she lets out a few breathes, attempting to relax.

“I know I, um, said that he never physically harmed me. But…the truth is, he has.” she admits, watching his face form into a fiery expression.

“Mm.” he replied, leaning back.

“And…these two scars are the proof.” as she nods her head erratically.

“It, uh…..happened the night of our wedding, which was also the day I turned 18. It was a post-celebration, with just me and the nine wives before me. Or as I thought.”

She looks at the door, seeing the light getting a little bright, which made her scared as she knew what that meant.

“I was already distressed with everything that lead up to that. Very pissed at him as he decided to destroy my favorite memory of my childhood to show his authoritative position over me during the reception. So, the wives were just consoling me all night cause I wouldn’t stop crying.” she uttered quickly.

She begins to blink slowly, hearing some of wives’ voices play, making her gasp a few times. Terrance gets up quickly, carefully sits down next to her and gently rubs her shoulders, watching her relax a bit.

“Take a deep breath.” he said.

She inhaled, held for few minutes, then exhaled, relaxing. She looks at him, noticing a somberness to his eyes as she continues, rubbing her hand.

“S-so, they were saying the better part of the day is about to happen. Which is he gives the wife a symbol that represents them in his eyes. That has a deep meaning to him.” she began.

“So I got taken to this room, where he was already there. Noticed there was a fireplace in there, but didn’t think much of it at first.” as she shrugged.

“He told everyone but wives #2, #4, #6, and #8 to leave since he will be needing their “assistance” with the gift. They left, leaving me with them. He began to explain that since I was the 10th wife, I was now the star of his life, which makes me the focus of Tolons now. Something the rest never got.”

She feels her heart beginning to race, rubbing her chest a bit.

“He handed me a small velvet box, which was a diamond necklace of a three outlined star symbol that hangs like a teardrop. He put it on me, saying he added two extra to represent him and the wives. In my head, I hated it. But because I didn’t want to make this day even worse, I let it go. Just…suffered.”

“Cause he made it about him and them, not you.” he said, watching her nod.

“Always. Out of jealousy. Will never forgive them for helping him. Cause all of sudden, I got turned around, bent over against the table.” she said, her voice cracking at the last word, her stomach tightening.

“I thought he was going to take my virginity in front of them, ripping the back of my dress open, but stopping at the top of my lower half. I was confused and asked what was about to happen. He replied “the second piece to your gift.” before opening something…”

Terrance slowly wraps his hands around Wynnie’s, squeezing them gently as she began to cry again.

“He said “if you ever”…”if you ever think about leaving us any time so-soon, just remember: this is a way I will find you incase you leave the necklace behind.” before he implanted something hot that burned into my spine.” as she closed her eyes, the memory playing in her head.

Her excruciating screams, the wives turning her onto her side, and him burning her again on the rib as he chanted Tolons, we kneel. Tolons, we obey. Tolons, we never turn away a few times as her skin boiled and blood was pouring out.

All played over and over in her head.

Her breathing took over her body, causing to shake rapidly as she collapses to the ground, making Terrance sprint into action, trying to relieve her.

“Winona! Wake up!” as he carefully holds her body down, holding her head in his arms.

“Think of your grandmother! The flowers! Your childhood!” he desperately yells, fear eating him inside.

She continued to shake uncontrollably, not regaining consciousness.

“Think….think of your chant!” as he gently lays her on the ground, holding her hands.

“Youre free, you’re free, you’re free..” he repeated a few times, seeing her slowly calm down.

“There you go. Keep repeating it in there.” he said happily, seeing her body stop shaking.

She laid there peacefully for a few minutes, with him checking her pulse to make sure she’s still with him.

Her eyes open slowly, blinking them before landing on him, feeling the burning sensation of the lights glowing on her.

“Welcome back.” he said quietly, choking up. “I thought I almost lost you.”

“What..” as she slowly sits up. “What happened?”

“You blacked out. You were telling me about the three stars and how you got them…” as he sees her eyes widen, watching her slowly get up.

“No, no.” she said softly, covering her face in embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It happens when you have to relive it over and over again, but fuck. I shouldn’t have asked that.” he admitted, guilt coming out.

“I’m sorry. I really am, Win—“ as he apologized, gently touching her arm.

SLAP.

Surprise is met on both of their faces as Wynnie backs away quickly, realizing she just accidentally slapped Terrance, who grabs his face instantly.

“God!” he yelled, feeling the pain brewing.

“Shit, shit, shit!” she mumbled, grabbing her bag and running out.

She ran down the hallway, quickly entering the reception area before running outside, not looking back.

She didn’t mean to slap him, but unfortunately, her reflex got the best of her this time, humiliating herself.

Getting to her car, she jumps in, locking the door. She lets out a gut wrenching scream, stressed out by how fast things have changed since Saturday night.

No sex, no place to stay, a duststorm is coming, and she might not be going to space anymore.

Rubbing her face, she turns on her car, wanting to get out as soon as possible.

But the engine doesn’t cut on, making her confused.

She tries again. And again. And again.

Nothing comes on.

“What the fuck!” she yelled, hitting the steering wheel a few times.

Now her car battery is dead.

She gets out, slams the door a few times, having a meltdown.

“Why me? Hm? Why me of all people?!” she uttered, breathing hard.

Then, in a quick not-so-thought-out move, she punches out the window, watching the glass break.

Instantly regretting what she did, she looks at her left hand, now pouring out blood from the glass cutting, wincing from the burning pain.

“Shit.” she whispered, feeling overstimulated.

She hears footsteps approaching, making her turn around to see Terrance running towards her, a worrying look on his face.

“Don’t come close!” she begins to yell, but the pain from her hand overtakes her.

He stops, seeing her look scared and angry, gently walks to her.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.” he said, holding his hands up.

“You should. I just hit you in the face! And you’re not mad?!”

He shakes his head, looking back to see Mel come out and a few other scientists.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Wyn. I know you. But you have to come back.”

“I’m not going back. Its too embarrassing.”

“They’re getting worried about you to a point that they might ca..” he trails off with the last word.

He sees blood on the ground, the car, and on her legs, looking very confused on what caused that as she begins to tear up.

“What did you do?” he asked quickly, seeing her hand and the broken window.

She backs up slowly, trying to hide it but he stops her, examining it.

“Jesus.” he whispers, looking at the wounds.

“…my car battery is dead.” she said in a pitiful voice.

“I freaked out cause of course, another bad thing just happens after the last 24 hours I’ve been having. I don’t know why I instantly punched the window.” as she explains, turning into hyperventilating.

He shushes her quietly, pulling her into an embrace and letting her cry, holding her.

“Its okay. You don’t have to explain yourself.” he said, looking down.

“You do need medical attention though.” as he pulls out his phone and calls Mel, rubbing her back.

“Everything okay? We heard screaming from the lab and saw you running out.” asked Mel, picking up on first ring.

“Yeah, we’re fine. She just had a horrible panic attack during our session. Which is my fault really for asking about…that.” he said in a remorseful tone.

“Ahh, okay. So she’s not having a horrible episode?”

“No, no. She’s herself. Just been having a horrible two days. I can explain since it’s quite a long story, but she does need medical attention though.”

He hears her sniffle softly, turning the both of them to walk.

“And I need to call a tow truck. Her car is out of service.”

He feels something wet on his chest, making him look down at his shirt, which is now covered in her blood.

“And a new shirt.” he added.

“Think I can help with that.”

They watch Mel order the scientist to walk back into the building, with her following behind.

“Am I in trouble?” asked Wynnie, squeezing his arm tight.

“No. We’re just gonna help you.” he said, sending her a small smile.

She nods, getting closer to him as they reenter the building, seeing Mel waiting for them in reception.

Back in Terrance’s office, Wynnie sits patiently, holding her wounded hand in a towel Mel got her from the labs as Terrance is on the phone with a towing company.

“Yeah, it’s a 2010 Subaru Impreza.” he said, walking back and forth.

“Um, it has a dead battery and a broken window. My assignment came in fine, but when she tried to leave, the window, um…exploded.” he said, biting his lip.

Wynnie chuckles quietly, amused at him coming up with a lie that fast.

“That’s the thing: we have no idea how that happened, but yeah. It exploded, so she got hurt. Getting patched up as we’re speaking.” as he looks at her, seeing her lay back.

“Oh. She tried to leave to go to an urgent care place, but her car wouldn’t start. That’s when she noticed it was dead. Yeah, a lot happened within the same frame.”

The door opens, with Mel walking in, carrying a first aid kit and a black shirt. She places it on Terrance’s desk before heading to Wynnie, sitting in front of her.

“Alright. Let me see your hand.” she said, opening the kit.

Wynnie carefully moves it to her, watching Mel unwrapped the towel, seeing the dried bloody hand.

“Damn. You Muhammad Ali’d ya window.” she said, laughing a bit.

Wynnie smiles a bit as Mel takes out tweezers, bandages, alcohol wipes, healing ointment, and a small bowl. She then gets up, heading to the fridge to grab a water.

“I’ll have the payment when you get here. Just have to move her things out before you take it. Mmhm. Thank you and see you soon.” he said, hanging up the phone.

“What Jeff say?” as Mel returns, pouring the water into the bowl.

“They have a battery to fix the car. And have to order the window, which will take a while since we are in a duststorm warning.” as he removes his shirt, leaving him in his undershirt.

“How much do I owe?” asked Wynnie, looking at him.

He pauses, smiling as he puts on the new shirt, folding the old one.

“Don’t worry about it, Wyn. I said I’m taking care of you.”

“Wyn, huh?” Mel asked curiously, opening a wipe and beginning to wipe off the blood.

Wynnie winces quietly, feeling the burn tingling over her flesh as Terrance kneels in from of her, grabbing a wipe

“You know I like giving nicknames to my assignments, Mel.” as he opens it, unfolding the wipe.

“Even if they already have one?”

“Don’t start.” he replied, eyeing her down.

She holds her hands up in a joking way, continuing to clean off the hand as he wipes the dried blood off Wynnie’s legs, gently massaging it.

“He normally does this?” asked Wynnie, watching him focus very hard on cleaning.

“Not really. You’re like the first one.” as Mel picks up the tweezers, beginning to take out the pieces, dropping them in the bowl.

“Third.” he said quickly.

“True. But….first woman.” she said, smirking.

Terrance rolls his eyes before letting go of Wynnie’s legs, gently placing them down before getting up, walking back to his desk.

“I also checked to see if there was any hotels or motels that are available and take your type of payments.” as Mel looks at Wynnie.

“Any luck?” asked Wynnie.

“No. All booked out for the next 8 days.”

Wynnie sighed, feeling her turn her hand to get the rest out.

“Sorry about what happened with Starland.”

“It’s fine. At least my manager told me ahead of time.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

Wynnie pauses, looking over at Terrance, who is distracted with putting stuff away.

“N..no. He offered me to stay with him, but I declined.

Mel looks at her, before looking at him, a small smile upon her lips as she finished pulling the last piece out, placing the tweezers in the water.

“I think you should reconsider his offer.” she said quietly, opening the ointment.

Wynnie’s eyes widen, shaking her head while Mel nods.

“That’s a bad idea!” she replied quietly, making Mel giggle.

“Is it? Considering he already kissed you and it almost lead to something else?” she said with her eyebrow raised c pouring the ointment over her hand.

Wynnie’s mouth drops, surprised that she knew that.

“He told me the morning after. Felt bad that he may have crossed the line, but I reassured him that maybe he didn’t cause you kissed him back.” as she massages in the ointment, watching Wynnie’s face relax.

“Mm.” she said quietly.

“Not gonna lie. I knew it was coming sooner than later.”

“So you were manifesting it.” she said teasingly, hearing her laugh.

“Maybe I just got lucky with my prediction.”

Wynnie smiles as she wraps the bandage around carefully, ripping the extra fabric off.

“I think you should reconsider his offer.” she said, watching her shake her head.

“He has a nice place, Wyn. Not too far from here.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” said Wynnie, looking at her hand.

“Why not?”

“…..I don’t know.” as Wynnie shrugged. “I fear it’ll happen again and he’ll pull back, leaving me all hot and fuzzy.”

Mel laughs, putting the items back in the first aid kit.

“He’s probably scared of doing something he doesn’t think you’re comfortable with. But that doesn’t mean you should stop.” she said, closing the kit.

“And it’s 8 days together. A lot can happen during that.” she added, looking at him and her.

Wynnie looks at Terrance, who was patiently waiting for the phone to ring in his seat, slightly biting her lip.

She looks at Mel again, who nods and pushes her to go talk to him. She sighs, getting up and smiling softly as she walks to him.

“Go get him.” Mel said quietly, laughing to herself.

Cautiously walking up, she stands next to him, who immediately feels her presence as he looks up, a little smile on his face.

“Hey.” she said quietly.

“Hey.” he replied, looking at her injured hand.

He gently pulls it to him, gently touching it, which made her bat her eyes a bit.

“Everything came out okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. Mel’s good at tending to wounds.” she replied, seeing him nod.

“Always went to her for any cut I had.”

“Mm.”

Silence fell upon them for a few minutes before Wynnie cleared her throat, leaning towards the desk.

“I wanted to apologize about earlier.” as she pulls her hand back, watching him look at her softly.

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and harm you, myself, and almost put everyone in danger.”

“Don’t.” he said, holding up in his hand.

“I should be the one apologizing here.” ashe exhaled quietly.

“I shouldn’t have asked about the scars, knowing you weren’t ready to talk about it. Him. Tolons. Everything today.” as he looks down.

“Should’ve postponed the session as soon as you came in, but I….I wanted to make sure you were fine. That’s all.” he added, sniffling a bit.

Wynnie nods graciously, rubbing his cheek with her unharmed hand as she lifts his face up, seeing his eyes slightly wet.

“I also decided I’m going to stay with you. I changed my mind.” she said, watching his face relax.

“How come?” he asks, slowly wiping his eyes.

“Mel couldn’t find anything either. So, I have no choice but to rethink your offer.”

He smirks, rubbing her hand very lovingly. Almost like he’s smitten with her.

“I told you you’re fine with being in my care.” he said, shrugging a bit.

“Yeah, but I like giving you your personal space. You’re barely around anyone else besides Mel.” she replied in a teasing tone.

Terrance laughs quietly, leaning back in his chair as he open his legs further apart, watching her eyes flick lowly before looking back at him.

“What if I don’t want that space?” he asked, looking her up and down.

He reaches out, gently pulls her closer to him, creeping his hands up her waist. He hears her breath hitch as he nuzzles his face against her thighs, tracing over it.

“Terrance, she’s right there.” she whispers, pointing her head towards an unaware Mel.

“I’m not gonna do anything that will make you uncomfortable or embarrassed. I would never do that.” he replied, looking up.

Wynnie’s eyes soften, feeling his gaze growing sincere with each moment before he moves back, seeing Mel walk to them.

“Ima head out early if that’s okay. Gotta go to the store so I don’t starve for the next eight days.” said Mel, carrying her items.

“Get home safely, Mel.” he said, nodding at her.

“You too. Be nice to our little *Wyn for the next few days.” she said, winking at Wynnie.

The latter waves as Mel walks out, closing the door behind her.

“You two got something going on?” he asked, looking at Wynnie with his eyebrow raised.

“Jealous much?” she asked, looking at him.

He scoffs, shooing her away jokingly, which made her laugh.

“Aww, you are.” as she sits on the edge of his chair, legs draping over his right leg.

“Am not! I just don’t share my women with my best friend.”

“Lucky for you, I have nothing going on with her if it makes you feel any better.”

“It does..it does a lot.” as he nods calmly, making the both of them laugh.

They hold each other’s gaze for a few minutes, taking in each other’s current mood: both relaxed and calm.

They both lean in for a kiss, inches away.

Until his phone rings, startling her a bit that she bumped into his shoulder and nearly falls, with him grabbing her instantly to prevent it.

Static breathing comes out as he gets up, gently lifting her and putting her in the chair, grabbing his phone.

“Hello?” he says after hitting the accept button.

“This is he. You’re here? Perfect. I’ll be out shortly. Just let me discuss what she wants us to take out of her car real quick. Okay, thank you.” he said, ending the call before looking at Wynnie.

“Jeff’s here. Ima go and move your stuff to mines. Besides your items you had to move out from Starland, do you have anything in the car that you want me to take out?”

Wynnie thought about it for a few seconds, shaking her head.

“I keep most of my important things in my purse or with my files.” she replied.

“Any chargers?”

“Have extra in my suitcase.”

“Have your key?”

She nods, digging in her pocket and handing it to him, which he nods and takes, walking slowly to the door.

“I’ll send our receptionist to come get you when we’re done. Shouldn’t be too long.” he said, reassuring.

She nods, watching him walk out of the room, his footsteps fading out.

She looks at her bandaged hand again, gently touching it as she closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

“We got a long week ahead of us, don’t we?” she asked, leaning back in the chair.

About 45 minutes later, the receptionist came to get her, making her grab her bag, shut off the lights, and close the door to his office. They walk out to the entrance, where the receptionist leaves her.

Walking to the parking lot, where she was losing it a few hours early, she sees a man with a towing company logo on his back, putting in the final box from her car into Terrance’s as the latter is chatting with another employee that’s holding a clipboard, believing it’s Jeff.

He takes out a thick stack of cash from his pocket, counting out a certain amount before handing it to Jeff, who takes it.

He sees Wynnie watching, motioning her to go to the car before resuming his conversation.

She obliged, walking straight to the car as the other employee closes the trunk, heading to the truck. She examines the car, which had two of her bags laying in it as she hopped in, waiting for Terrance.

“We’ll be in touch about the car.” said Jeff, shaking his hand before walking to the truck.

Terrance nods, watching the latter get in as the other employee finishes towing Wynnie’s car, turning away.

He gets into the car, hitting a button that closes the door before it moves, heading towards the exit.

“How far do you live from here?“ she asked, looking out.

“About 30 minutes. I’m more on the west side.” he replied, typing something on his phone.

She nods as the car turns left, heading down the road with the sun shining on them as the clouds are moving rapidly, signaling the dust storm is almost near.

The car pulls up to a small, white three story townhouse, surrounded by trees and nothing else.

It’s the last house on the dirt road, leaving it without any neighbors next to it or across.

“We’re here.” he said as the car backs up on the driveway, parking itself in front of the garage.

Wynnie looks around the area, amazed that he lives in a quiet part of the city.

He gets out first, helping her out before grabbing her two bags, walking to the front door as she follows him, watching him take out his house keys and unlock the door.

Moving to the side to let her walk in, she steps in carefully, looking around the room she’s in.

Next to the stairs is a closed room, hidden by dark brown sliding doors.

On her right, she sees a door that leads to the laundry room and the garage inside a standard living room with modern colors.

A dark gray couch and matching lounge chairs. A brown coffee table with a few magazines on there and matching coasters. A big TV with some kind of streaming box. A fireplace near the windows, which are covered by brown and gold and yellow plaid curtains.

Passing the basement door, which is under the stairs, leads her to the kitchen, which is covered in an all brown cabinet design.

Two dark brown islands. A white refrigerator. A dining room table. A medium size pantry in the corner. A sink with a sitting counter, a vinyl player in the corner of it, and a door that gives you access to the backyard.

As she was occupied with looking around, she was unaware that Terrance was bringing all of her stuff in by himself, taking it up to her room as he grabs the last box locking the car and walking in.

“All done.” he said, closing the door.

“Huh?” as she looks at him confused. “You got everything?”

“Mmhm.” he replied, nodding as he places the box on the floor.

“You could’ve asked me to come help you.” as she walks to him.

“….with one hand?” he asked, hearing her scoff loud.

“It’s just cuts. Not paralyzation.” as she holds her injured hand up, moving her fingers.

He chuckled quietly, amused at her determination to prove a point.

“Still injured. I don’t want you to put any heavy weight on it.”

“Right..”

He looks at her with warmth, examining her movement as she walks to the stairs, gently brushing pass him.

“You live very…neatly. You take care of your place very well.” she said, looking up at the wall of photos.

“Thanks. It’s important for me to stay tidy or else, I end up losing things I might never be able to find again.” he replied, watching her as he picked up the box again.

She examines one of him, clearly from college based on his youthful, skinny look and MIT sweatshirt, with his family at the dinner table, all smiling.

She notices a lightskin woman, based on her hands, he had his arms wrapped around in his lap was ripped from the photo, making her curious.

“Even in your personal life?” she asked, feeling him leaning in to follow her gaze.

“Depends on what you’re referring to. Except I don’t want to find her again.” he said, alluding to the woman before walking up the stairs.

“What happened?” she asked, seeing him stop in the middle quickly, making her a little scared.

“If…it’s okay to ask.” she said quietly, watching him look back at her.

He had a little scowl on his face, as if she crossed the line with asking him about his ex-girlfriend.

Which she felt like she did, about to apologize, but his face relaxes, letting out a sigh as he sits the box on the steps, walking back down.

“That’s from Thanksgiving 20..58? It was my second year in uni.” as he stood next to her, looking at the picture.

“I went home to London for the break and decided to bring her to meet my people. We have been dating for a year so I thought it was a perfect time to take the relationship to the next level.” as he crossed his arms.

“Everything was going great. My parents, especially my mother,” as he points to the brownskin woman next to him.

“Liked her. A lot actually. Thought I found the one and had envisioned a future of us together.” he said confidently, his mouth twitching a bit.

“But wow, was I wrong. What she did changed everything, including my relationship with my parents.”

Wynnie watches him scratch his face, trying to cover his smile, but couldn’t, laughing in a tense way. Detecting his anger.

“See the young fella in the back?” as he points to a young brown skin man in the back of the photo, who looks close to his age.

“That’s my cousin. Who we took in after his mother, my mother‘s older sister, unexpectedly passed when we were kids.” he said, lowering his hand.

“Who she also began to put more of her attention to. Basically treating me as an after thought. Always leaving me with my father. Almost like I had to beg for her to pay attention to me. To love me. But nothing was enough for her from me. But him?”

He exhaled loudly, laughing bitterly.

“Different reaction. But, he stole her from me.”

Wynnie’s eyes widen in shock, looking away as she process what he told her.

“About two hours after we took this photo, Aunt Tina, the lovely lady in the center next to my grandmother, found them in the bathroom. Fucking.” he said quietly, his blaze growing.

She feels a chill down her spine, uncomfortable with the story, taking such an abrupt turn.

“She was pissed. Cursing her out. Saying she wrong as hell for coming into our family, sleeping with a cousin, knowing I’m only a few feet away. Knew I was humiliated and even snapped on him. But my mother? Took his side. Dismissing it as nothing more than an overreaction and that I was ruining Thanksgiving.” as he closed his eyes, breathing harshly.

Screaming from his mom and aunt played in his head, seeing the shock reactions to what happened from everyone on their faces.

“That pissed Tina off even more. She let her have it, saying she might as well be my true mother since my real one abandoned that post as she’s been there for everything. Even important moments. I don’t know what happened next because I left immediately before things got worse. Booked a flight to Boston, and came back here. Haven’t been back to London since.” as he turns back up, walking.

Wynnie wait a few moments before following him, watching him pick up the box again.

“Do…do you still talk to her?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah. Her, my uncle aka her husband, my three other aunts, my favorite cousin, and three other ones are who I’m still in contact with. Basically the only ones still on my side.” he replied.

“….sorry for asking about it.” she said, looking away.

“Don’t be. I been over it for years now.”

They get to the top of the stairs, now showing wide hallway that has one room and the guest bathroom on the left, with two rooms on the right.

A big window sits in the center, showing outside, which is now slowly getting dark.

“Your room’s over here.” he said, walking towards the second room on the right.

Passing by the first one, Wynnie notices the inside a bit.

Dark green painted walls, covered in posters from different magazines, sports, and some references to Jamaica and England. A desk covered in stacked papers, utensils, and a lampx A rolling chair with a black dress jacket hanging off it. A closet door open, with three different pairs of dress shoes sitting out as ticking from the ceiling fan comes out.

That was definitely his room.

Entering the second room, she sees the rest of her stuff stacked up neatly on both sides of the room as Terrance places the last one in front of the bed, wiping his hands.

“Like what you see?” he asked gleefully, leaning back against a dresser.

She looks around the very spacious room, in awe of how much different it was from her room at Starland and her old one from Tolons.

A desk that lines up against the wall, where the windows were. A vanity next to it. A few dressers in front of the bed, where a big TV sits on the big one. A queen size bed. Two bed stands. A ceiling fan. A closet in the corner of her left side and her own bathroom next to it.

“…I think so.” as she sits on the bed, smiling a bit.

He smiles at her, seeing her lay back, relaxing from how soft the mattress was, laying her bag next to her.

“Good to hear.” he said, slowly walking up.

She yawns loudly, feeling herself get sleepy as he sits down, keeping a good distance from her.

“I have to go back out real quick.” he said, seeing her look up.

“What? Why?!” as she sat up fast, making him laugh.

“Its nothing crazy. I promise.” as he rubs her hand, seeing her calm down a bit.

“I’m low on air freshener, paper towels, and water. Just have to grab those before Asger’s closes at 6 due to the storm. Did you want me to grab you something from there?”

She paused, thinking about what she was low on as she clenches her fist open and close slowly.

“….healing ointment. Some face cotton pads. And maybe some Oreos?” she said causally, her body slightly exhausted.

He nods amusingly, getting up and walking to the door.

“And I think I’m going to pick up some Italian for dinner from Kassiccio’s. Did you have a dish you wanted?” he asked as she lays back down again.

“Chicken parm doesn’t sound too bad.” she replied sleepily.

“Noted. I won’t be gone too long, but just incase…” he said, trailing off with his last word.

Reaching behind the dresser, he pulls out a metal bat, laying it against the edge of the bed.

“Just use that.” he added, seeing her nod her head slowly.

He leaves quietly, closing the door behind him before heading down the stairs.

She hears him exit through the front door, locking it as she slowly falls asleep, taking a quick nap.

About 20 minutes later, she wakes up, very groggy like as she stretches.

It was now a bit dark outside, but not to the point that the dust has arrived. She looks at the time on the clock on her bed stand.

5:07.

She gets up, beginning to unloading her things, put some of it in the closet, vanity, and dresser.

She plugs in her phone on her bedstand, hearing it DING! before taking out her two coolers, placing one on each side of the bed and plugging it in. She places the sound machine on her other bedstand.

Next were her files, documents, and other important things to her.

Walking to the desk, she lays out her journal, workbooks, the flower encyclopedia and figurines he got her as a gift, personal files, utensils, and the sunflower dog collar on it.

She then takes out the sunflower ring that has accompany her everywhere, placing it on her vanity.

After finishing the rest of her clothes, she began her shoes lining them up in the closet.

As she begins the next batch, she sees an unidentifiable white box on the ground, make her stop what she was doing and picks it up.

Placing it on the bed, she takes the cover off, revealing itself as a tablet like device, all black. She picks it up, examining it before touching the screen, which lights up.

On the screen, she can tell she’s viewing something from a camera inside a bedroom, but knows it’s not hers since she’s not in it.

However, based on the desk, the king sized bed and a few weights on the ground, she immediately identifies it as Terrance’s room.

But why does he have a camera in his room for her to see? And does she have one herself?

She looks at the top corner behind her, seeing if she could spot one. Nothing’s there.

She looked around the rest of the corners, but no camera is hanging and pointing at her.

Grabbing her phone and turning on her flashlight, she moves it over things she suspected they had hidden cameras. Checking the bathroom as well.

Once again, nothing showed. Everything was clean, which she found strange.

Going back to the box, she sees two other items inside: one being a long black rectangular box with an opening at the bottom in the other one being a curved white shaft device with a handle and a small branch with a gold metal tip.

Both also have the OuterMore logo on them.

“What the hell?” she said, picking up an instructions pamphlet, opening it to read.

This set was called Distant Lovers: a duo set of sex toys designed for a couple to use together whether they’re close or far away from each other.

As it states: The first one, the black box called an opener.

Its used as a vibrator for the penis, designed as a soft cushion hole, long enough to adjust any ones size and wide enough for anyone that has a bit of girth down there.

The other one is the standard vibrator, used for the vagina.

It that has a curve to reach in sensitive areas deep inside for a pleasurable release as the small branch act as a mini sensation for the clitoris.

To use it together or solo, you turn on one/both devices at the bottom. A green light should flash, signaling that it’s on and fully charged.

To connect them, you hit the second button, which was signal a blue light, waiting for it to connect. You will get a sound notification telling you that it is connected and ready to be used.

You can also switch who’s in charge of controls with the third button. When you click it and it shows a yellow light, it signals that he’s in control. When you click it again, and it shows an orange light, it signals that she’s in control.

Afterwards, it will create a sensual session between the both of you, and one moving both devices as the other one doesn’t have to move their own under their hand.”

Wynnie laughs for a few minutes, picking up the vibrator and turning it on, watching it vibrate nicely in her hand.

“Terrance, what kind of shit are you into and why did you leave it in here?” she asked, watching the tip of it jerk around.

“My god..” she whispered, enjoying the feeling.

Snapping out of it, she turns it off and put it back in the box,closing it quickly before putting it back in the closet, pretending she didn’t find it.

Resuming unpacking her items, she finishes her shoes before finishing the last set of boxes: her jewelry, body care, haircare, skincare, and makeup.

Placing everything into her vanity, she closes the last drawer before breaking the box down, toss it in the stack.

She changes into her pajamas for the night: a big old black T-shirt and some black shorts before carrying the boxes down to throw out in the trash can, which sits in the garage.

Tossing them in and heading back inside, she was about to head back to her room when she hears a scatting sound coming from the basement, making her pause.

She looks around to grab something, landing on an umbrella he has in a coat rack.

Grabbing it, she carefully walks down the stairs, holding it in front of her. Hitting the end of the stairs, she looks around the spacious room, decorated in a brown and white stripes velvet fabric on the walls.

On her left, she sees a lot of weight equipment lying around, making her assume this is where he tends to workout if not in his room.

As she scans the area, she sees a small, opened window on top of a corner where a boxed sink was, making the sound she was hearing from upstairs.

She hurries over to it, grabbing a stool in process to stand on, climbing up and closing it, locking the handle.

Climbing back down, she turns around to put the stool back, heading towards the stairs. Until something shaped like a harp with legs catches her eye near it.

Sitting just under the case and shelves of vinyls is a brown wooden grand piano and stool, seemingly untouched with the lid being held up.

She’s surprised by it, not knowing someone like Terrance would have this in their place.

She goes up to it calmly, taking a seat as she traces keys with her fingers, feeling its smooth and cool tops rubbing against her ridges.

She presses a white key on the left, which makes a low sound. But, it’s a key that she is definitely familiar with.

So she presses one on the right, which makes a high sound, another familiar sound to her.

“Okay, so.” she mumbled, hitting a mixture of different keys, seemingly finding the tune she’s looking for.

She closes her eyes, breathes in loudly, before exhaling as she begins playing the tune, slowly feeling herself growing more confident, but touched.

“Will some…body wear me to…fair?” she sings, trying to remember the lyrics.

“Mmm mmm mmm, sing a…flower. Will a lady pin me in her hair? Mmm-mmhmm-mmm.” as the tune sounds more intertwined.

“Will a child find me by a stream? Oooh. Kissss my petals, weave me through a dream….”

“For all of these simple things and much more, a flower was born. It blooms to spread love and joy, faith and hope to people forlorn.” as she smiled, feeling her eyes beginning to tear up.

“Inside every man…..lives the seed of a flower. If he looks within….he finds beauty and power.” she uttered proudly.

She continued playing for a few minutes, hitting the high notes perfectly before stopping all together, opening her eyes slowly as tears fall out.

Happiness fills her as she has rediscovered the song she used to sing a lot when playing in her grandmother’s garden, even on the piano when she had lessons.

“See you found the piano.” said a familiar male voice, making her pause.

Wynnie looks up, seeing Terrance standing on the stairs, an impressed look on his face as he takes a whiff of his blunt, blowing out smoke.

“Didn’t know you had one.” she said, wiping her tears.

“Used to be the previous owner’s. Choose to not take it with him because the house he was moving to in California has a vintage one or some shit the agent told him.” as he walked down, going near her.

“But, I didn’t want to throw it out because it looked too nice to get rid of, so I left it.” he added, seeing her nod slowly.

“Looks similar to the one from home and the one from…the music store he took me to.” she said, pressing a black key on the right.

He nodded, leaning against the ledge as she played the tune slowly, watching with enjoyment.

“What brought you down here?” he asked, making her pause her playing.

“Heard a weird noise, so I came to investigate it. Turns out, you left your window open.” as she points towards it, watching him follow it.

“Oh wow. Thanks for that or else, we would’ve been coughing for the next few days.” he said, walking to it.

He makes sure the handle is locked in place as Wynnie resumes playing, humming to it.

“Found your song again?” he asked.

She nods, smiling happily.

“Can’t figure out the song name or artist, but this was definitely the song I used to sing and play a lot.” she said, humming again.

He laughs quietly before inhaling smoke again, walking to his vinyl collection to look for something as her amazing singing accompanies him.

“Found it.” he said, pulling out an album and walking to her.

He hands it to her, which made her stop playing, gently taking it out of his hand.

She sees a beautiful black woman with an Afro looking down, wearing a long white dress with a circle hook in the center for the straps, standing in a bush garden.

“Minnie Riperton.” he said, watching her read the back.

“The song you heard, sanged, and played quite a lot is Les Fleurs, which is the first song on the album. A very good song to start the album with. And a great song to practice your fine piano style to, little flower.” he said with fondness, seeing her trace over it.

“…can we play it while we eat?” she asked, looking up.

“If that’s okay.” she said softly.

He nods, holding his hand out to help her up before they both went back up the stairs, with him shutting off the lights and closing the door.

“May I?” he said, gently taking the vinyl out of her hand.

She nodded, walking to the dining table, where he already had their food laid out, taking a seat.

Cutting on the vinyl player, he takes it out of the fold and carefully places on the spinner, gently putting the needle on it before tuning the sound nob.

“What do you want to drink? I have water, Pepsi, wine, beer, um, sparkling water?” he asks, looking at her.

“Water is fine.” she said, carefully removing the lid off of her chicken parm container.

He hits the play button before walking into the kitchen, tossing the blunt into the ashtray as the scratching sound filling the room for a few moments before the song begins:

He opens the fridge, grabbing two water bottles off the door before closing it, walking to the table and placing one in front of her.

“Thank you.” she said, giving him a small smile before opening her water bottle, taking a small sip.

He nods, taking his seat across from her and placing his bottle down before removing the lid off his veal parmigiana container, grabbing his utensils.

Will somebody wear me to the fair? To the morning, sing a lovely flower, as Wynnie began eating some of her parm, enjoying the taste.

Will a lady pin me in her hair? Mmm-mmhmm-mmm, as Terrance eats his veal, looking at how dark outside was through the window.

Will a child find me by a stream? Gaily laughing in the sunbeam shower, as she slowly nods her head.

Kiss my petals, weave me through a dream, she hummed along with her.

Terrance watches with purity in his eyes, seeing Wynnie relaxing and tap into her happy self again, enjoying hearing her flower song again at this point in her life.

Ignoring the loud winds and blurry elements of things falling and flying on the outside as the late Minnie Riperton’s powerhouse vocals belts out, creating a lively atmosphere.

The dust storm, set to be a deadly one, has finally arrived to Des Moines, and they made it home just in time.

The doors to the hidden room are now opened, revealing itself as Terrance’s office, noting its similar office space design.

The window shows a brown cloud of dust and many other things moving around, blocking the sun from reflecting, and no visible road or trees.

Dressed in a simple black sweatshirt and pants with black socks, he’s sitting in a chair, holding his tablet on his lap, the recorder sitting on the table, recording.

Sitting on the couch is Wynnie, who is dressed in a long, green, rippled maxi dress, her chest slightly showing, and curls hanging all over her face and neck as she plays with the sunflower charm on her ring.

“That was the only time he harmed me. Think it was a warning of what he’ll do if I don’t give in.

So when I saw people say I was enjoying helping him with his harmful actions, I wanted to yell at them so bad.” she said, shaking her head.

“Always “You loved it. You loved him.” when I didn’t. I never loved it. I never loved him. Never agreed with everything he did. Had I not escaped? I’ll be in a cell right now for killing him. He burned me twice with that symbol, broke my grandmother brooch the same day by shattering it to the ground…” as she breathes out harshly.

She rubs her face, not wanting to get even more upset, but can’t seem to prevent it.

“….I’ll never forgive him.” she said in a heartbreaking voice.

“No matter how much he’ll beg me to. They’ll never understand how permanent the scarring from him is, and I have no desire to explain it too much further. I’ll always hate him.”

She looks at her wrist tattoo, tracing it over it slightly as she sniffles, grabbing a tissue from the box.

“That’s why I always say you’re free, you’re free, you’re free whenever I feel a panic attack coming out as a horrible memory of him plays when it happens. I don’t think I’ll ever be free of that, but at least I know he’ll die in there. That’s all I have left to say.” as she wipes her nose, coughing a bit.

“That’s good. Hopefully it feels like a relief to get it all out.” he said, watching her adjust herself.

“Mmhm.” she replied, leaning back a bit to rest her head. “Even though I cried too much over it.”

“It’s normal to do that. Don’t think otherwise.”

She watches him type in the last few words in, adoring how focused he is.

“We have reached the final question. Answer it as you wish and afterwards, we’re finished.” he said, looking at her.

“You mean…I don’t see you again after all of this is…done?” she asked confused, seeing one of his hands go up.

“No, no.” as he smiled a bit. “We’ll still meet, just when the dust storm passes and we go back to headquarters, we begin your spacesuit fitting and tests for oxygen, health accommodations, mobility incase you have some issues with your body during your time up there.”

“Basically a long doctor’s appointment.” she said, hearing him laugh.

“Exactly that. Last question.” as he looks at the screen, reading it.

“What do you see in your future, once you return from space?” he asked in an intrigued tone, waiting for her answer.

Wynnie replace the question in her head, looking at the sunflower charm as she thinks about it for a few minutes.

“…..to be honest, I don’t want to work. Which I know looks bad in some people’s eyes, but…I don’t think I have the desire for it.” she began, sitting up a bit.

“For one, I can’t even remember what I wanted to do. I know I had plans to go to college for it, but now? No. Secondly, the trial was everywhere and some of the other victims have huge following on social media. Even some of ex cult members have a bunch of TV shows together, which seems disgusting to me because why are you making money off our trauma?” as she shrugged, disgust all over her.

“And people can recognize anyone easily, which adds to that. So, I like to stay hidden.”

“But…I do want to grown a garden in honor of continuing my love and enjoyment my grandmother left me. Not just flowers, but vegetables and fruits too. If I’m able to get a place when I come back.”

“You can stay as long as you want.” said Terrance, giving her reassurance.

“Yeah, but won’t you get tired of me eventually?”

He smiles, biting his cheek a bit as he looks at her with admiration, watching her blush a bit.

“I don’t think you know how much I enjoy your presence around me, Wyn. Almost like I’m reuniting with something I been meaning to find that I lost.” he said, locking eyes with her.

“….even if you’re terrified of crossing the line?” she said quietly, watching him turn his head a bit.

His eyes trail down to her chest, seeing it move up and down calmly from her breathing, sending a bit of heat down to his growing member.

“I, um..also love to learn new songs to play on the piano after I get one. Maybe get into a different form of writing and a new hobby? Oh, and travel a bit with my hopeful husband. Being spoiled and all.” she began again, laughing a bit to herself.

He smiles a bit, taking note of it in his head.

“Hopefully he isn’t bothered by my….issues.” she added, playing with the hem of her dress.

“Do you want a family?” he asks while typing.

“….I do.” she replied, watching him pause.

“Four kids. Two boys, two girls with a gorgeous house somewhere. Don’t mind a set of twins somewhere in there.” as she smiled.

“Already have it mapped out.” he said, watching her laugh.

“Yeah. I like the idea of each of us having two mini mes. Never thought I would be saying it now.”

“Why?”

“As long as I was married to Alfonso against my will, I was not gonna have kids with him ever. Which was even more confusing since he wanted me to have some experience while also being “pure” for him.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She sighs, a little embarrassed to say the next part to him.

“I lost my virginity to a male member that was my age. That he also picked. He and some of the wives watched, which added more to the humiliation because it was only two minutes.” she said, scoffing a bit.

“…I’m sorry about that.” he said in an apologetic tone.

“Don’t be. I never fucked Alfonso, so that’s a win in my book.” she said, making the both of them laugh.

“Even though, I am a little terrified of raising my babies and being married with all of this in my hands.”

“Because of him?” he asked, seeing her nod immediately.

“Feels like I’m gonna be too overprotective of my girls more than my boys. Which I hope I’m not because this can happen to either one of them. I don’t know if I’ll…ever tell them about this.” she said, her voice trailing a bit.

“And I pray to the universe that my husband is very understanding and supportive throughout it all. And of course, I’ll do the same with him, but…I just hope for someone who gets me, you know?”

He nods supportively, understanding where she’s coming from. She feels her eyes becoming watery again, looking down before slowly crying again, hiding her whimpers behind her hand.

Terrance gets up, turning off the recorder before walking over and sitting next to her, gently pulling her close him.

She lets out soft whimpers, laying her head on his shoulder as he comforts her, his radiating heat keeping her warm.

“He will, Wyn. I can assure you that.” he said, rubbing her side gently.

Wynnie looks at him, a little hope in her eyes as she traces his arm, hearing his soft breaths coming out.

“Are we done with questioning?” she asked, gently pulling away and wiping her face.

“Yeah. We are.” he replied, smiling warmly.

She smiles, lying on his shoulder again as she looks out the window, seeing how dark the dust has gotten.

“You would think it’s nighttime out there.” she said, seeing him look up.

“That’s just the first day.” he said, gently embracing her injured hand.

She looks down, slowly closing her eyes as she drifts to sleep, her soft snores feeling into his ear, with him, turning his head to place a kiss on her forehead.

For the next few days, Wynnie spent time doing her hobbies as Terrance worked in his office, attending meetings while also working on her file and new ideas he has for future missions.

She practices writing in her journal and workbooks, impressed with how fast she has improved.

She played on the piano, teaching herself new songs by reading music sheets she found online and plays it beautifully, sometimes sing along.

She reads some of her books, learns about new flowers in the encyclopedia, and watches films and TV shows she hasn’t seen to entertain herself.

And sometimes, Terrance joins her, intrigued by her doing exactly what he instructed while learning slightly himself.

Little did he know, she had another hobby that she was tending to secretly: watching him at work and working out either from the little device in her room or while she was on the piano.

The tension between them was growing thicker by the hour, both sneaking looks of each other while the other one wasn’t looking, brushing past each other by placing their hands on area of their body to create some sensation, and almost touching again while talking.

Sooner or later, one of them is going to crack.

And our Wynnie might be the first one.

She was in the kitchen, helping Terrance with prepping dinner for tonight.

They agreed on the menu of roasted chicken breasts, collard greens, mac and cheese, yams with marshmallow and cinnamon butter rolls with a toasted crème brûlée cheesecake he was making.

As he’s cooking the vanilla while in a off-camera laptop Team meeting with Mel and other OM employees, discussing preparations for the mission and Group 46’s return, he sees her cutting up the garlic on the cutting board, very focused.

“We can have everyone in separate groups so everyone knows where each member falls where they land on the base.” he said, looking at her again, who smiles back.

Do we even have enough?, said Lance, baffled at that idea.

Hm. 10 assignments. 10 agents. 10 lab scientists. And 10 corporate representatives? Yeah, I think we have enough, Lance, said an annoyed Mel.

Gee, my bad!, he replied.

At least you know, she said, making Terrance laugh.

Mel continues the conversation as the latter looks at Wynnie again, noticing g she’s holding the knife by its blade instead of the handle.

Hearing a topic about land being talked about, he carefully walks over to her, greeting her by touching her arm, which she looks up.

“You doing fine?” he asked lowly, looking at her cutting.

“I am. Just one more garlic and I’ll be finished to start cutting the vegetables.” she replied warmly, dicing up the piece.

“Mm.” he said, getting worried that she might cut herself.

“Did I do something wrong?” as she stopped, looking at him.

Just as he was about to say yes, he gets cut off by Mel mentioning him.

You still got that land out in Massachusetts, Terrance? I remember you talked about it a few years back you first bought it, she asked.

He closes his eyes in humor, amazed at her timing as he guides Wynnie back to cutting, repositioning the knife in her hand.

“Yeah, I still have that land in Martha’s Vineyard. Thinking of building a house and retiring there after I finish with OuterMore within the next decade.” he replied, gently guiding her to cut the garlic with his hands wrapped around hers.

Jealous of you, fam, she said, continuing the conversation.

He laughs, leaning in close to Wynnie’s body, helping her finish.

“Like this. Just so you don’t harm yourself.” he whispered into her ear, feeling her relax.

“Thank you.” she replied softly, stepping back against his body, pausing a bit.

Soft groans shot out of his mouth as her ass gently brushes against his aching member, poking her a bit.

“You’re big..” she whispered, slightly doing it again.

“Mm.” is all he could get out as he gently grinds his hips into her ass, hearing her moan a bit.

He kisses her shoulder, tracing over her chest before groping one of her breasts, causing her to throw her head back against his shoulder, giving him more access to play.

“Fuck.” she mumbled, feeling him kiss her neck before almost kissing her lips.

The smell of burning vanilla hit his nose, making him stop immediately and run over to turn the heat down, making her giggle as she resumes cutting.

They resumed their own work, acting like nothing happened.

Wynnie finishes preparing everything she assigned herself to: turning off the pot of greens, placing the rolls on a baking sheet, and placing the yams next to the cheesecake in the oven. She washes her dishes before heading upstairs to change.

Terrance finishes seasoning the chicken breasts and plating it in a pan with the veggies, preparing the mac and cheese, placing both dishes in the oven after taking out the cheesecake.

He waits for that to cool down before placing it in fridge to chill for the next few hours, heading upstairs to change. He checks on the food during this.

An Hour and A Half Later

Terrance comes down the stairs, dressed in a light gray, short sleeved collared shirt, greyish brown dress pants, and dark brown dress shoes, walking into the kitchen.

He places the last thing that needs to cook in the oven: the rolls, which wouldn’t take too long. He adds the chicken breasts, yams, and mac & cheese back in to reheat.

He turns the collard greens back on low to reheat, as well before taking out a pot and six glasses: two wine, two medium sized, and two short cylinders, from the cabinet.

Pouring sugar in the pot, he doesn’t turn it on just yet, taking out the cheesecake from the fridge.

He turns on the vinyl player before heading down to the basement to the vinyl, pulling out two different albums to play before heading back up.

Taking the vinyl out the first one, he places the needle on it before hitting play, hearing a scratching sound before the song begins:

He places the other two on the counter, heading back to the stove to turn on the heat for the sugar, slowly adding water as he begins to stir it.

As he waits for it to boil, he carefully takes out the food from the oven, placing it on the counter mats to cool as he begins plating the table with the glasses, eating utensils, napkins, and plates.

Opening the fridge, he takes out a jug of water, a bottle of Pepsi, and a bottle of white wine, placing it on the table.

Lay all night here on top if you want to, as he sees the sugar boiling to a brown color, turning that and the greens off.

I’m givin all I’ve got, every drop. Don’t you want to?, as he waits for the sugar to cool for a few seconds, pouring it slowly over the cheesecake.

He hums along to the voice of Maxwell, finishing the pouring before placing it in the sink. He bring the food to the table one by one, carefully positioning the dishes so that they are easy for them to grab and plate.

As he finishes adding some lemon to the chicken, he hears footsteps from the steps, making him slowly look up.

Walking into the room was Wynnie, dressed stunningly for dinner.

Wearing a shaped yellow dress with a ruffled split in the center that pins some of the fabric to it, showing the lower half of her legs and matching heels. The top part showcases her breasts, which were shining from a cocoa butter she used.

She wore a matching sunflower shaped gold earrings, necklace, and bracelets set, with her hair being a blowout curled style that enhanced her face. She wore a bit of gold shimmer on her eyes, mascara, and a gold reflective lipgloss on her mouth.

Terrance was amazed at her appearance, her beauty shining through.

“Hi.” she said quietly, smoothing out the bottom nervously.

“Hello, Winona.” he replied happily, putting the lemon to the side without taking his eyes off.

“You look…you look good.” he added, stuttering a bit.

“Same for you.” she said, blushing.

They held each other‘s gaze as the song continued to play.

Burn the cold. Take the snow. Make July out of December, as he examines her body, noticing her left hand is unwrapped.

“Your bandage is gone.”

“Mel said it was safe to remove after a few days. And well..” as she holds up her left hand, slightly scarred from the glass.

“Think it’s healing well.” she said, smiling.

He nodded, carefully walking over to stand in front of her, which made her heart skip a bit.

“May I?” he asked, grabbing her seat.

Could all this lust? Ooh, be a symptom of you, baby, as he pulls out her seat, patiently waiting for her to sit.

Lay all night here on top if you want to, Please baby, oh, yeah yeah yeah, as she smiles, sitting in and he gently pushes her in.

I’m givin all I’ve got, every drop. Don’t you want to? Oh, don’t you want to, babe?, as he walks back to his side, taking his seat.

“The food looks lovely.” she said, looking at all the dishes.

“It does. You should be proud.” he replied, smiling a bit.

She nods, watching him grab a bottle opener and places it over the wine bottle, twisting it.

It makes a POP! sound as the cork is out, with him pouring wine into their glasses.

“Wasn’t sure with what you wanted to drink, so I grabbed three options: wine.” as he places her glass in front of her.

“Water.” as he grabs the jug and pours some into the medium ones, placing one in front of her.

“And Pepsi.” as he twists the cap off and pours it into the cylinder ones.

He places one in front of her, sitting in his seat again.

“Thanks a lot, handsome gentleman.” she said, picking up the wine glass.

“Any time, pretty girl.” he replied, picking it up.

They toast to each other for taking a sip, both having a satisfying reaction to the taste.

“Tastes sweet and fresh.” he said, looking at it.

“Pairs well with the food. And us.” she said slyly, beginning to plate her food.

“You would be sweet.” he said, leaning back.

“I know.” as she turns her head a bit. “You tasted me quite a bit.”

He smirks, eyeing her down as he sits back up, taking another sip.

“You talk for someone who thinks they can handle me.” he said, watching her finish her plating.

“I know I can.” she replied, watching him chuckle.

“I would like to see.” he replied in a dark tone, seeing her jump a bit.

She bits her lip slightly, picking up her utensils and cutting into the chicken breast. She brings it to her mouth, taking a bite and chewing it.

“Mm.” she said quietly, enjoying the flavors on her mouth.

Under the table, she carefully takes her foot out of her heel, bringing it to where Terrance’s member was, feeling over the clothing.

That move made him jump a bit, spilling some of the wine into his lap, making her smile.

“Fuck.” he whispered, grabbing a napkin to wipe some of it up.

As for her foot? Left it there as she moves it up and down against it, holding back moans.

“But the real question is a you handle me?” she said lowly, continuing to eat.

He watches her with a need in his eyes, feeling the familiar sensation bubbling inside of him as he begins plating his food.

The two finished dinner, with some conversations here and there as the sexual feeling between them grows more.

And it didn’t help that they were drinking most of the wine, which added on to the friction.

Wynnie was sitting on the couch, eating some of the cheesecake he made, impressed with how good it tasted.

Terrance, on the other hand, was that the vinyl player changing the Maxwell album to a greatest hits one that was custom-made and gifted to him by Mel of his favorite songs as a graduation gift.

He puts the needle on it and presses play, hearing the scratching sound play as he takes all blunt from a secret stash on the counter and lights it up, staring at Wynnie.

He inhaled some of the smoke and picks up his wine glass as a guitar begins to play, signaling the song is beginning.

He blows out smoke as he begins to sing along to the male singer’s voice:

I did not become someone different that I did not want to be, he sanged, inhaling some smoke.

He blows it out as he walks over to where Wynnie was, holding his fist up over his head.

But I’m new here. Will you show me around?, he sanged, eyeing her.

She blanks softly at him, turning her whole body forward.

No matter how far wrong you’ve gone, as he slowly walked over, stopping to do a pose with the blunt.

You can always turn around, as he jokingly looked her up and down, making both of them laugh before he inhaled more, blowing it out.

She ate more cheesecake, attempting to hide her very intoxicated itself, filled with lust as he slowly walked over, singing the next part.

Met a woman in a bar, as he sat down next her, placing his glass on the table before moving closer to her with the blunt in his hand.

Told her I was hard to get know, as he looks at her, inhaling more smoke.

And near impossible to forget, as he blew it out, making sure it’s not hitting her.

He moves it to her, offering some to smoke.

She thought about it for a few seconds before, pulling her hair back and applying her lips to it, inhaling some of the smoke.

She holds it in for a few seconds, before blowing it out, slightly coughing at the bitter taste, making him show concern and rub her back to soothe it.

“I’m fine.” as she coughed. “I’m…fine.”

He shakes his head, getting up quickly to grab her glass of water off the dining table and coming back.

“Weed smoke is very intense, so I suggest you drink your water.” he said, handing it to her.

She carefully takes it and drinks some of it, feeling the coolness soothe the small strain instantly.

“Better?”

“Better.” she replied with a slight deep voice, making her laugh.

He laughs as well, sitting next to her again as he gently pulls her to him, putting the blunt into the ashtray on the table.

She lays on his chest, purring a bit as she rubs it, looking up at him.

“What?” he asked, looking at her.

“…your eyes look so pretty under these yellowish lights.” she said, hearing him chuckle.

“You like talking about them, don’t you?”

“Just like you like calling me ‘atta girl’.” as she sits up, grabbing her wine glass.

“…touché.” he replied, smiling as he leans back a bit.

The song continues playing as he adjusts his shirt, pulling it up while she watched.

“You normally this jacked?” as she traces over the veins on his arms.

“Mmhm. Helps with my…appearance. Used to be very skinny and bony.” he said, chucking a bit.

“Either way….you were still pulling women, weren’t you?”

“Mmhm.” he nodded. “That will never go away. Until I find the one.”

She nods, adjusting her legs slightly across his lap, watching him rest his arms over them.

“She’s a lucky woman, whoever that is.” she said, seeing his eyes twinkle a bit.

He snorts quietly, taking a sip of his wine before stretching his arm over the couch, getting comfortable.

The heat grows thicker in their bodies, with Wynnie slightly feeling herself getting a bit wet between her legs, clenching them together.

“Can I tell you something, Wyn?” he asked, watching her pause.

“It’s nothing terrible. Swear.” as he holds his hand up in surrendering.

She thought about it before nodding, watching a smile appears on his face.

“Well. Ever since I met you, I feel like I unveiled myself a lot more than I ever shown to anyone. Normally, I don’t take assignments to a personal level since it’s just strictly business and my job, but…there’s something different when it came to you.” he said, rubbing her legs.

“Really?” she asked softly, a little surprised.

“Yeah.” he nodded, exhaling a bit.

“I wasn’t sure why. I thought it was because of the whole awful thing with Tolons and shit. But over these last few weeks, I started to feel more and more interested in wanting to know about your love for the sunflowers. How quickly you go from being scared and not wanting to open up to being happy and discussing that, whatever happy memory you can remember from your childhood with the things you got, and you slowly overcoming it.” he said, very proud of her.

She watches his demeanor soften more, looking at her with more love in his face.

“So, I told Mel that I think I’m falling for you. But, I was gonna request to be removed from you as I didn’t want to seem like I was taking advantage of your vulnerability since you told me so much. Just didn’t want to make it seem like it was nothing more than sex for me, harming you again.” he admitted, choking up a bit.

“Oh, Terrance..” she said, holding his hand and gently squeezing it.

“Sorry. I just…didn’t want to seem like I’m hurting you. That’s all. And I don’t know if it’s the damn wine that got me like this or what.” he said, both of them laughing.

“But yeah. Mel reassured that I’m not doing anything wrong and told me to take you to the flower show that was in Iowa City. Just don’t tell you it’s a date.” he added.

She gasps quietly, not realizing until now the flower show is the reason why he came out there to see her.

“And wow…you looked like you were home again. You were yourself, obsessing and talking about the shows, some of the flowers you recognized, the statues, your grandmother…you were younger you before shit took an awful turn.” as he squeezes her hand.

“And then, the diner. Kinda felt like I knew something was going to happen because I was…open about why I haven’t gone back to London since working for OuterMore. Seeing you understand my reason then and in the other night made me feel more comfortable with telling you anything I never like to talk about.” as he pushes her hair out of her face, tracing over her cheek.

“I thank you for that, Winona. I’m truly enjoying your company here. And honestly….I think I want to continue it on a different level when you come back.” he admits, happiness all over him.

She smiles shyly, in awe at his confession of love for her, confirming every thought and feeling she had of him right now.

“You know…” as she moves a little closer to him, removing her legs off his lap, with him watching.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about the kiss. Even when I was packing my things.” she added, seeing his eyes soften.

“Really?” he asked, watching nod.

“Mmhm. I don’t know if it’s because your lips felt amazing and soft on mines or I finally got to taste what a kiss from someone I actually felt like…” as she shrugs, blushing more.

“But, I know what good memory to play if I feel something bad is coming out in space. So, I thank you for that, Terrance.” she said, looking at him with admiration.

He smiles, taking a sip of his wine, one more time before placing his glass on the table, slowly moving his hands to her waist, grabbing it a bit.

“You know we can create a new memory, right?” he asked lowly, watching her bit her lip.

“And what memory are you thinking of?” she asks seductively, tracing his bottom lip.

He looks at her with an intense gaze, gently grabbing her chin to turn her more towards him, with violins of the next song playing.

Leaning in closer to her face, he pauses for a bit, taking in her beauty for a moment before crashing his lips on hers, doing it a bit more passionately.

I put a spell on you, the voice of Nina Simone sings as he pulls Wynnie into his lap, having her tower over him without breaking the kiss.

Cause you’re mine, as he squeezes her ass, hearing her moan.

They continue this for a few more minutes befits she breaks it, both of them catching their breaths, lust finally all over them.

You know I can’t stand it, as she takes a big sip of her wine, feeling some of it trick down the outside of her throat and chest as she places the glass behind her, about to wipe it off.

You’re running around, as he stops her, moving her arm back.

You know better, daddy. I can’t stand it, as he leans up, kissing her chin to licking some of it up.

Cause you put me down, yeah yeah, as he trails his lips down to get the rest, sucking on her skin a bit, which makes her even more aroused.

“My god, Terrance.” she whispered, enjoying his hot lips on her burning skin.

I put a spell on you, as he stops at the top of her chest, slurping up the rest, feeling her wince a bit.

Because you’re mine, as he moves towards her shoulder, kissing it.

He grabs the string by his teeth, pulling it down, which releases her one of her breasts, immediately latching onto it with his mouth.

Wynnie moans, feeling his tongue and teeth moving her nipple around, pushing his head on more as his member is poking under her, making her grind her hips against it, hearing him groan.

The trumpets play loudly as Terrance uses his other hand to pull down the other string to release the breast, immediately fondling it by playing with the nipple.

Suddenly, his phone buzzes in his pocket, making him irritated.

“Really?” he mumbled, letting go of her breasts.

“Just ignore it.” she said, moving his head back to her breast.

He listen to her, ignoring it as he puts his mouth around her nipple again, sucking on it.

“Just like that.” she whispered, trailing her hand into his pants feeling his member pulsating.

But then, his phone rings, pissing them off even more.

“Okay, who the fuck could be calling you this late?” she asked, removing herself from his lap.

“I don’t know…” as he pulls his phone out, reading the screen, his face dropping.

“What’s wrong?” she asked in a worrying tone.

He looks at her, disappointment on his face, telling her that he’s about to stop this yet again.

“I’m sorry, Wyn. But I have to take this. It’s my boss, Raymond.” he said, looking down.

Anger consumes her as once again, she is not getting more of him without the clothes on.

Grabbing her wine glass off the table, she gets up quickly, storming off to her room.

And I don’t care if you don’t want me. I’m yours right now, as tears streamed down on her face.

He was about to call her, but gave up as she reached the stairs, sighing as he answers the phone, putting on his professional voice.

“Good evening, boss.” he says, standing up.

“What can I do for you?” he added, sucking his teeth.

I put a spell on you. Because you’re mine, as Nina sanged for the last time, with the song ending as Wynnie walks into her room and slams the door, scaring Terrance.

Wynnie pacing around the room back-and-forth, heat consuming her with tears streaming down her face.

Once again, she is denied sex for the second time. And only a few days apart. She feels like she’s being neglected and tested for no reason, yearning to be pleasured.

She drinks her wine aggressively, downing the rest of it in one go before placing her glass on her vanity.

Looking in the mirror, she looks at how overstimulated she’s feeling right now.

Breasts out, with one coated in his saliva. Hair a bit messy, Lips swollen from their makeout session. Slightly flushed in the face. Her gold shimmer smeared over her eyes and lips.

She looks like they did have sex, when really, they didn’t.

Lying on the bed carefully, she keeps her eyes on the mirror as she pulls the bottom half of her dress up, revealing her pastel yellow lace panties underneath.

Spreading her legs open, she runs her hand over her clothed mound and slit, feeling her fingers get a wetness to them.

She grabs the edges of her underwear and slowly pulls them down, watching a puddle of essence connect to it, revealing her aching heat.

She breathes harshly, feeling the hotness burning her a bit, begging for a release.

Gently, she begins rubbing her clit at a slow speed, moaning a bit from the feeling.

“My god, you’re tense, aren’t you?” she whispered, beginning to play with one of her breast, letting out a harsh gasp.

She begins to pick up the speed, feeling her soft walls began to slightly twitch from the growing pleasure, essence beginning to form again.

She closes her eyes, imagining that her fingers is actually his tongue licking all over her down there, doing it at a precise angle while his fat lips tug at hers.

She stops when she hears his voice, muffled, growing loud, making her look at the door.

The conversation continues, with him moving further and further away, not about to barge in on her.

As she was about to continue, she looks at her closet, getting a familiar failing that something she saw was in there.

Then it hits her, making her get up and look for something moving some shoes to the side.

“Aha!” she utters as she pulls out the white box, immediately taking off the cover.

The vibrators from a few days ago were still there, with her turning them on, waiting for them to connect.

DING!, the sound makes as the blue light comes on, confirming its connection.

Placing her vibrator on the top of bed, she takes the opener and gets up, walking to the door.

Opening it, she walks out carefully, making sure she’s not making any noise as she peeks over the stairs to see if he’s there.

“I get that, Ray. I do. But if he wants to last a little longer with us, he has to go to school for it because technically he’s not supposed to be wi…” he says on the phone, walking by the end and out of her view.

She sighs in relief before heading inside his room, which the door was wide open.

Tiptoeing to his bed, she places the opener in the center of it, making sure he has a good view of seeing it.

Turning to leave, she is jump scared by her reflection, falling onto his bed while holding back a scream by covering her mouth.

She calms herself down as she realizes that he has a big ass mirror doors of his second closet, getting up slowly to examine herself, taking in her face.

Which confirms he’s definitely a freak by having this installed.

As she was occupied with her reflection, she suddenly hears footsteps, make her snap out of it and quickly get out of his room, speed walking to hers just before he sees her.

Getting behind her door and almost closing it, but leaving a bit of a crack for view, she sees Terrance coming up the stairs, visibly irritated from that phone call.

He stops, looks at her door for a few moments, debating if he should check in on her or not.

Deciding on the latter, he walks into his room, closing the door behind him.

Closing hers, she walks over to her desk and grabs the device, turning on to see what he’s doing right now.

As she gets into bed, laying on her back against the pillows in the center and moving the vibrator next to her, she watches him plug in his phone and lay it on the nightstand, sighing loudly.

Fucking hate Lance, he mumbles, pulling his shirt off, revealing his abs and more of his chiseled arms underneath it.

He unbuttons his pants, removing them carefully, leaving him in his black underwear, his aching member now even more visible and leaking precum at the tip.

Soon, he whispered, rubbing over it for some relief, wincing a bit.

That made her bite her lip, slightly twisting her nipple as she watches him move around, putting stuff in a hamper before turning back to his bed.

He sees the opener laying there, confused on how it got there as he looked at the door from looking at it again.

What the fuck? Where did you come from?, he said, looking at it.

…did Wyn find you?, he said in a curious way, making her laugh a bit.

He looks so cute, trying to figure out why one of his freak machines is out of their box.

He examined it, seeing that it’s on and connected, his eyebrows raised. Turning it to its side, he clicked the third button, waiting for a light to flash.

Simultaneously, it turns yellow on both devices, signaling that he’s in control right now.

Placing the device in front of her, she grabs the vibrator and slowly inserts inside of her, wincing quietly from it stretching her out as the gold tip for her clit touches it.

She exhales sharply a few times, feeling the pain and pleasure of the stinging rolling through her body, gripping the sheets.

Looking at the screen, she watches Terrance carefully remove his underwear, his member jumping out from it hold, moving up and down.

Even though she can see from a camera view, she can tell he’s carrying a lot down there in size and girth, which matches him perfectly.

If only she can see it in person for a better review…and touch.

He gets onto his bed, laying down on his back, making sure he is comfortable before positioning the opener over his tip, spitting on it, spreading it all over.

Before starting, he inserts his fingers inside, feeling how tight it was thanks to it mimicking Wynnie’s walls.

Mm, he moaned quietly, enjoying his fingers, getting stuck for a bit before removing them.

“My god.” she mumbled, clenching at that.

He pushes his dick into it, moaning at the tight, feeling it has around him before it slowly adjusted itself to his size and girth, waiting for a few minutes.

He feels it mold itself around Wynnie’s soft walls, amazed that it’s actually her on the other side.

Oh, you’re tight, he said, growling under his breath.

Then, he moves the opener up, which moves the vibrator out of her at the same time, watching in amazement.

He slams it down rough, with the vibrator, slamming into her at the same speed, making her gasp for air.

“Oh shit.” she said out loud, feeling the vibration began to start and its tingling her sweet spots.

He begins moving the opener up and down, feeling the sensation of her her clenching around him and sweet spots tingling him at different frequency, creating a euphoric feeling between them.

Their bodies begin to feel overwhelmed with the feeling, enjoying it so much as their intoxicated bodies hit a different level of intensity.

She watches the vibrator moves in and out of her on its on, amazed that it can do that without her having to move it herself.

Oh my god….you feel nice, Wyn, he uttered, hearing her soft, explicit sounds from her room filling his, smiling.

She covers her mouth, not wanting him to hear her filthy sounds as she watches him on the device, seeing his face scrunched up from pleasure as he moves the opener up and down on his member.

Fuck, he moans quietly, licking his lips.

You feel good squeezing me like you own me. And I’m not even physically touching you, he mumbled, making her clench around it more.

She moans, amazed at his vulgar voice as if she isn’t next door, her sloppy wet sounds coming from her pussy being punished by his virtual movement.

Carefully sitting up and pulling the dress down to remove, she gets into a kneeling doggy position, her ass arched up in the air as she lets him continue to move it out at an aggressive pace, feeling her release building up.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?” she asks, enjoying this side of him, hearing him let out a moan.

She watches him twist the opener around his member, feeling even more sensational shocks to his shaft as the tip of her vibrator begins to touch where her cervix was almost passing out from it.

She lets out guttural sounds from the feeling, enjoying it so much from his energy.

But now, it’s her turn. And she needs to match it up with his energy.

Grabbing the end of the vibrator without taking it out, she hit a switch. Hearing a soft click from it, the light turning orange, signaling that she’s in control of the movement now.

She sees him watch the light change to orange as he removes his hands, waiting for it to move as he adjusts his pillow behind him.

On cue, she begins pushing and pulling the vibrator out at a snappily speed, feeling its tingling sensation rubbing against every little flesh inside her, making her react in a scatty way that she never thought she had.

The gold medal tip kisses her clit a few time. begging for more as the opener slams down on him hard, slightly squeezing his member a bit, making him let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him.

Shit, baby, he mumbles, feeling his balls tensing up from the pleasure.

Wynnie continues the movement, imagining its him behind her.

Slamming into her pussy in this position, not holding back as she takes every inch of his dick in. His member coated in her essence, herself losing it under him, and him having a tight grip on her waist guiding her to him while he watched with a vulgar expression on his face.

She hears his moans clear from the device, making her look over to see him gripping his sheets, body covered in sweat as the opener bounces up and down on his member, enjoying this.

He’s close. And so was she.

“I want you to cum.” she whispered, as if he can hear her through the device.

She sees him lift himself up a bit, his breathing becoming tight as he closes his eyes, trying to keep himself from releasing as her breathing becomes incoherent.

“Come on.” as she becomes sloppy with her movement, feeling her release luring in.

“Give it to me, *baby. I know you can.” she said, her moaning becoming incurable, her walls tightening around as she rubs her clit, slightly squealing from the touch.

He feels it, whimpering from its closing movement sucking him in like she’s blowing.

You’re gonna break me, little flower, he said, his tip aching.

She pumps the vibrator out of her harshly, feeling some of her essence beginning to pour out, begging for a release.

“Fuck….” is what she says hungrily for the last time.

After one last swipe, her release washes over her. Her body begins to shake, feeling the beating warmth of shocks running across her, screaming out from pleasure.

His release followed, pushing the opener off as he sits up, strokes himself quickly by twisting the head and massaging his balls at an angle and hot speed.

“Shit! Shit!” he exclaimed, the intense feeling of relief washing over his body.

Hot white spurts of his cum shoots out, hitting his stomach and some of his chest as he lets out a few satisfying moans, breathing harshly while stroking himself.

Both fall back to their respective beds as their releases continue to wash over them, their bodies slightly shaking from it as it slowly goes down, bring them back to their normal selves.

They both laid there quietly, feeling the coolness from their ceiling fans blows over them, feeling very nice over their damp skin as Wynnie turns off the device, panting a bit.

Both of them cumming together just from having sex with the vibrators, without seeing nor touching each other, is truly a life-changing moment for them, feeling they brought too much closer than they intended.

But what will happen once they actually have sex with each other? Will it be the same or even more intense than they hoped for?

Whenever it happens, both can feel it luring nearby. And boy, it is ready for them to explore each other.

A/N II: I promise y’all that Part III is going to be even more hot and well deserved for our Wynnie. Coming soon. As always, thank you for reading and you have any questions. Just send them to me!

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