( gif by hazzawckd <3)

disclaimer, this chapter contains heavy mentions of death and domestic violence. if you are anyone you knows is going through that, please read the links down below to get help. you are not alone and we hear you. we see you and we care for you.

https://www.thehotline.org
https://www.womensv.org/domestic-violence-links
(800)-799-7233

I don't know what I ever did to deserve to be in a situation that makes me want to commit so many crimes just to get out of being here. I guess you could say that the street racing I used to participate in before I met Ellie would count as my karma, but that was it. I never sold drugs, never tote guns, I never cheated on a test–maybe my History exam, but I forgot I had my mid-term that day–but that's it. I always respected my mom, I took my sister to school and soccer practice. So why is that everything happening right now making me get thrown in the deep end with signs of being saved.

My own personal hell is a six foot man named Hobie, and I don't know what deal I accidentally signed with the devil to make me break it and get out of it.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

No matter how many years down the line I will hope to live, I will never forget the chilling tone of voice when he spoke in such a quiet whisper that was demanding to be heard. I remember how my heart dropped and my stomach churned and yet, I still didn't make my way to the police station to turn them in. Because what the fuck do you mean 'you wouldn't have it any other way'?

Now it was around 1 in the morning and I was just getting back from Opium's room. He wanted me to randomly take photos of him and Ozzy while they tried on their tour outfits and tune their guitars. They must have slept late because I got there two hours ago and the two of them were still in their pajamas.

I took a bunch of pictures and edited them right in front of them, something about how they wanted to see the step by step process of everything. I ignored their comments made along the way, but the exchange was nice being there. Opium made a lot of cheeky little comments, but he never touched me. And Ozzy never really got close to touching me or being near me in that way, especially after he was locking lips with Ares.

I walked down the hallway towards my room, feeling mentally drained. I always get tired after being around a group of people for a long period of time, only around my closest friends did I feel I still had some energy left in my tank. I find being around this group that I have to always have a front up, or else they will pick me apart one by one.

I walked towards my room, ready to finally call it a night after ordering some chinese food that was open twenty four seven and getting up the next morning for the bus, which was in less than four hours. Atlantic City felt like the longest stop we were at so you can just imagine the feeling I felt knowing we were leaving in a couple hours.

When I walked right up to my door, I couldn't help but pause at the sounds coming from the room next to me. It was a loud thud, shattering glass and loud groans. I froze while standing in front of my hotel door, one hand on the door handle and the other half way in my back pocket about to retrieve my key.

It was Hobie's room of all people.

I stood silently, my head just a bit turned to look at the door. I thought whatever was happening ended, but I was wrong when I heard another crash against the back of the room door.

The noises just increased from there, the sounds of things breaking and shattering. If this was an animated movie, just imagine the door moving back and forth from the excessive force of things getting thrown at the door.

I wanted to leave, walk into my room and pretend that I didn't hear anything. But I felt I owed him something after he saved me the other night. No, he doesn't deserve my help. But what if he is in trouble? I highly doubt it but the thought still haunts me.

I don't know where we stand after what happened back in the dressing room, I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing that we didn't do anything.

"Fuck!" I heard him scream out like he was in pain.

I flinched at the scream, my human instincts making me rush over to his door before knocking on it without a second of hesitation.

The noises went to a stand still the minute I started knocking. It was like the world came to a pause and I instantly felt a wave of regret wash over me when I knocked on his door. I wasn't ready to talk to him again, but now I was just asking for myself to get in trouble.

I heard him mumble something to himself that I couldn't quite understand, but his footsteps grew louder and louder to the door until it quickly swung open.

I first stared at his chest in surprise, not letting it register in my brain. He was there for another millisecond until I picked my head up just a bit to stare at him. He stood with a blunt in between his lips, his shirt shifted and twisted like he threw it on to answer the door. His chest rose up and down like he was out of breath, his arms bandaged up, cheeks red and eyes bloodshot. The high from the blunt must be getting to him.

He looked down at me like I was the last person he wanted to see outside his door, and I instantly knew right then and there I made the wrong decision coming to check on him.

"What do you need." He furrowed his eyebrows, his tone rude as always.

"Are you okay? I just heard a lot of..." I trailed off when his expression became stoic.

"What's it to you, baby girl?" He pulled the blunt out from between his lips and blew the smoke in my direction, chuckling when I swatted it out of my face.

This was by far the worst mistake I ever made in my entire life.

I formed my lips into a tight line, realizing I should've just let him go through his little tantrum alone. It's not my place to check up on him anyway, it was just my instinct when I thought someone was in danger. But it's obvious he isn't, he is just an emotional cunt.

"Have a good fucking night Hobie." I turned back towards my room, rolling my eyes the moment my back was turned to him.

I heard him shut the door without another word, just like I suspected he would. This is what happens when you give someone an inch, they pull it back to zero. I shook my head, mumbling a few profanities under my breath as I successfully slid my key card out of my pocket and into my hand to let me back into my room, slamming the door behind myself to be even more dramatic.

There were moments during lunch today that were civil, other moments before that where he was jumping down my throat, no matter how I thought today went it always would be bad in his eyes. I still would never trust him. I don't know why he decided to bring me along for lunch if he was going to act like he didn't apologize to me today and have me dry hump in a fucking dressing room.

There was a loud knock on my door, catching me off guard. Not even reaching my bed I turned right back around and walked back over to the door, peeking through the peephole to see Hobie standing on the other side with one hand resting on the wall next to my door. The knocks got harder, knocks that made my door shake if I didn't open in time.

I opened it up with a deep sigh, facing Hobie who stood upright clenching the neck of a hennessy bottle and another blunt in the hand that was on the wall. His eyes were frozen on mine, glazed and red like before.

"Can I come in?" He whispered.

I stepped aside after staring at him for a whole minute, watching his tall body walk deeper into my room with the neck of the bottle hanging down by his thighs and the blunt now placed in the other hand that had the other blunt.

I shut the door softly, chest tightening. It was annoying that I never had a choice with him. Even if I said no, he still would've come in regardless and made himself at home. 

I watched him walk over to the balcony window, surveying it like he was scouting out the surroundings. He stood as a faded silhouette, staring off to the ocean view that was glowing from the light of the moon.

"Why are you here?" I mumbled, staring at his back as I sat down at the desk next to my bed, opposite of him.

"I was an ass earlier." He states to my surprise, his back still to me as he brings the open bottle up to his lips to take a very long swig.

"You're drunk." I state.

"What makes you say that?" He responded with no playful tone in his voice.

"You are apologizing to me."

"This isn't me apologizing." He was quick to answer this time, making me roll my eyes and cross my arms, placing my feet on the bed to stretch my legs out.

I sat silent with his back still facing me, holding the bottle now down at his hip after his drink. With my arms still crossed I rose to my feet and walked over towards him, stepping right up next to him to glance at his reflection through the window. He didn't look at me, his eyes stayed dead forward as the moon reflected off his face. He knew I was next to him.

"What happened in your room?" I asked, looking at him through the window.

Something about this Hobie was different from the Hobie I knew, he seemed troubled. He seemed sad? I don't think Hobie could feel emotions, but that's the only word I could think of.

Alamort, maybe?

He brought the bottle back up to his lips, pausing just before it passed the small opening to go down his throat as he kept his eyes on the ocean.

"I told you this morning," he brought the rim to his parted lips, tossing back another leisurely gulp of the dark liquor. "I got handsy with a girl."

"You're lying." I shook my head.

"I like to break things." He turns around and walks back from the window, stepping over to my bed.

I turned and watched as he traveled over to the farthest part of my bed, plopping himself down on the floor in front of my bed and dresser, the tv turned on after he searched for the remote.

"Why are you here? You made it clear you didn't want me around just a few minutes ago." I rubbed the bridge of my nose, staying in place by the window.

"Mmm." He hummed while tossing his head back against the foot of my bed, shutting his eyes as he drank half the bottle in one gulp.

"Just pretend I'm not here, I'm just going to sit here." He stated, leaning his head back with his knees propped up so his arms could lay on them.

I sighed to myself, contemplating on calling one of the boys to come and get him. I don't think fighting him was a good idea, sober or not. The situation was very odd, but if he was going to sit there and be quiet while I got some sleep, then I guess there's no problem. He's intoxicated, but him coming to my room of all people must mean there is something he wanted to tell me because why else would he be here?

We were supposed to leave at 5 in the morning on the bus, although I could get enough sleep on the bus, I still wanted some shut eye in a cozy hotel bed. I knew Hobie needed to sleep as well, he had to perform in less than forty eight hours, but I wasn't going to tell him to leave, not in this state at least because who the hell knows what would happen if I kicked him out in this state.

"I talked to an illegal human trafficker today." He spoke out of the blue.

I froze with my back to him, my hands tangled in my hair as I sat on the bed away from him reaching over to grab my bonnet. I turned my body around slowly, sitting behind him. "You what?" I cleared my throat, pretending I didn't hear him right.

I watched his head dip back again, his eyes focused on me upside down. My body moved on its own, moving me off the bed to sit on the left side of him on the floor with my legs criss crossed, on alert and curious.

"He used to be a business partner, Rico and I went to his auctions all the time in our earlier days. He sells a lot of missing people, never children though."

I froze, staring at him as he stared at me back, both of yearning silent like we were waiting for each other to speak. I was confused and concerned, questions flooding my mind that I was about to puke out in a mess but I couldn't think straight or form a sentence without it coming out incoherent.

But there was only one question: I could get out nice and calm.

"Why?" I said softly.

He sat there quiet, but let a small smirk crawl up his beautiful brown skin. He drops his hand and places the bottle in between his legs.

"I told you I talked to someone who sells people and all you can say is why?" He asks with humor.

I scooted my body over so I was fully facing him now, sitting against the dresser with my one foot in between his legs and the other on the outer part near his thigh. I took the bottle, taking a swig of it with a hiss before handing it back. "It's not that hard to believe, but hearing you say it out loud is."

"That I talked to someone who sells people?"

"That you are capable of finding people who do that and making them your business partner." I corrected.

He chuckles and shakes his head, taking the second blunt out from behind his head and lighting it up in front of my face, this time not fanning the smoke away when he blows it in my direction.

"And you're not shocked by that fashion killa?" He takes another swig after exhaling another breath of smoke.

"I've stopped caring and being shocked about what you do in your free time when you aren't here." I reached down to grasp the bottle into my own hands when he let go, pulling it between my legs now.

He looked down at the bottle leaving his space, following it with his eyes until the point he met his hooded eyes with mine. I bring the bottle up to my lips again, staring at him for a brief second until I shut them to indulge in the bitterness of the hennesy.

"I can't believe you are drinking this straight, no wonder you are so drunk." I say while putting the bottle back down to the floor. "This shit is stronger than normal."

He smiles and grabs the bottle by the neck, shaking his head.

"I knew you weren't as innocent as you make yourself out to be." He makes the side remark, making me roll my eyes and turn my head away.

"I told myself I wouldn't do this as much anymore, you just never properly ask me if I want a drink and are a huge dick about it." I state calmly.

"Because there is no point, you are scared of everything. Even if you did live a wild lifestyle before shutting it down."

"I'm not scared of everything." I boldly state.

"Yes you are." He was quick to fight.

I turned and faced him again with an annoyed look on my face, a frown on my face as I was deeply offended. I brought my knees to my chest, watching his eyes look into my own for a reaction.

"You know nothing about me." I shook my head.

"Oh really?" He argues "You are twenty one years old and an aspiring fashion designer, taking this opportunity to get a jump start on her career. You let go of illegal street racing and selling drugs because you met your best friend, who, in return, told you that life is more than you thinking you are unlovable and you are just sad, and maybe a little bit angry. You never wanted to be a fashion designer, you wanted to be a park ranger at one point in your life. You probably have some dodgy relationship with your father since you always flinch when I raise my voice at you, which means you grew up never knowing what a quiet lifestyle was. I'm positive he didn't beat you, but I know you know someone in your life who did get beat which is why, even after I'm a dick to you and yell, you come running to my room when you hear things breaking and screaming. Am I getting close?" He spills, both of us having turned away from one another and now looking out towards the balcony window.

I froze as my heart clenched in my chest, my throat going dry to the point I couldn't swallow. My eyes stayed stuck on the moon, hands flat on the floor resting behind me. I hated that he did a background check on me, but to dig that deep to know the little things made me wonder what else he knew about me.

My silence caused him to turn to look at my side profile, out of my peripheral vision I could see him trying to read me and see if he was right. I took a deep breath, deciding against my better judgment to look at him.

"I have a dodgy relationship with both my parents, I try to be the good daughter that they wanted me to be but I couldn't. I turned to illegal things like street racing, selling drugs, doing drugs, beating the shit out of people who did my sister wrong. I used to run some shit back where I was from, but you are right. I left all that behind when I met Ellie, she had these dreams that I wanted to be a part of, she was my other half. My best friend, my rainbow of a friend. She was very gentle and nurturing up until she.. was killed. By her dad. The pain of losing my best friend, someone I considered a sister, was too much for me or her mom, so her mom also passed away from a broken heart. That was her only child, her dad went to jail for being the murderer. So. Yeah. I take this fashion designing shit serious because I know she would've wanted took it more serious, and if she saw me fucking up her dream that I took over I know she would come back to life some how and beat my ass, so I try my hardest. I flinch when someone yells because my sperm donor liked to yell when he was drunk, but it's only worse because Ellie and I lived in a complex with thin walls and every night I could hear her dad scream at her and then the sounds of hitting, got so bad that one night the screaming suddenly came to a stop. Police were called after I heard her mom scream in pain. I couldn't do anything, every time I called the cops they wouldn't believe me. Her dad worked for the mayor, but the only reason he got caught was because her mom
testified and showed all this evidence in court. He got locked up for life." I inhaled a sharp breath, pausing before continuing again." You're the biggest asshole I've ever met, but it's only my human nature to see what's wrong when I hear sounds like I did before in the apartment next door. I know you treat me like shit, but if I start treating you like shit back then that makes me no better than you or the man on the other side of the wall." I spill out in a monotone voice, watching the waves crash in harmony.

In my peripheral vision I watched as he watched me talk the entire time, but when I was done he turned his head back to the window like he was trying not to get caught.

I swallowed the lump in my throat after talking about all of that, realizing I never spoke about her death out in the open in so long. I didn't expect him to respond after that, not that I wanted him to. It would save me the humiliation.

I hear the sounds of glass dragging across the floor, making me turn my head in between us to see him slowly push the bottle of henessy towards me at a very painful speed, his eyes looking at me through the corner of his.

I chuckled, glad he didn't say anything. The gesture was all I needed.

"So why'd you meet with a human trafficker?" I ask, facing forward again.

"Because I can." He answers.

"But you have concerts of over twenty thousand people, I'm sure someone would be willing to leave their life behind if you asked them to."

"And maybe I wanted someone who wouldn't willingly give up their life and follow me to the ends of the earth." He states as I hear him answer around the rim of the bottle.

"I don't believe that." I chuckle and shake my head.

"You don't now?"

"Nope."

"You aren't just a man who meets with someone who sells people, which is still very weird so don't take my little reaction to not being concerned for your safety. And quite frankly mine. But I think there is some alternative motive behind it, same thing with all the drugs, money and beating someone in the back of a concert." I state, connecting pieces in my mind but not making any sense when I say them out loud.

"Where are you going with this?" He murmurs under his breath, losing interest in my point.

"I don't know, and I probably will never know." I shrug. "But there's a reason why you do what you do, I don't believe it for a second this is all for fun." I state.

He pauses and sips again, "like I said, I do it for fun."

"I'm not asking for you to tell me or make me understand, I know I never will. I think my best option would be to just be better off not knowing." I murmur.

It went quiet like usual between us, the balcony door being cracked just slightly causing a small draft to be swirling around on the floor mixed with my stomach tightening when I got around him.

"So, you never had good sex?" He suddenly asks out of nowhere.

Without thinking I cackled out loud, immediately wanting to take back what I said about my sex life. But of course he turned his head and caught the noise that only meant one thing: I had his interest peaked again. I turned to look at him too, my eyes watering from how badly I was laughing.

"Oh c'mon." He tossed his head back on the floor with a groan. "You never had good sex? Like at all?"

"I take back everything I said about my personal life." I say quickly.

"You can't take it back, you already said it and it was an instant reaction." He tilted his head up at me to look while I stayed in a sitting position, yanking me down beside him so we both laid on the floor with our eyes staring up at the rigids on the ceiling.

"The bodies I have weren't bad, they just weren't exactly what I wanted." I tried to dance around the conversation to avoid it, knowing this was the only thing he really wanted to ask.

"Not even the guy who 'wanted different things'?" He pushes for more.

I turned my head to face him as he looked very interested in this conversation, sitting up right to rest his head on his propped elbow. Maybe he would be too intoxicated to remember what I'm saying, so I didn't care any more.

"There was nothing specific he was doing wrong, I just didn't enjoy it sometimes." I said casually with a shrug.

"Okay but why?" He looks a little lost.

"Topping is tiring sometimes." I shrug, laying my cards out on the table at this point.

He chokes on air, making me flinch as he coughed into his shirt with his face turning a bit red, wide eyes staring back at me.

"You're a top?" He asked in shock. "I never would've guessed."

"No." I shake my head. "I'm a switch, who just happens to always be with the guys who like to bottom. Even the big beefy guys."

"So you always had to take the lead with the bottom of a one night stand?" He questioned.

I formed my lips into a thin line and nodded, rolling my eyes when he pity handed me the bottom again, but I took it with no hesitation.

"Two tops is fun, two bottoms is a disaster waiting to happen. But a switch and a top, now that is some fifty shades of grey type shit."

I take a long swig, the burning feeling going away and the downing becoming natural to me again.

"I'm guessing you are not a bottom."

He laughs. "Definitely not. I like to fuck pretty things, guys or girls. Only time they 'fuck' me is when they got their pretty little asses bouncing on me."

He takes a swig of the hennessy out of my hands as we continue to work our way down the bottom, talking about things I never thought I would with him.

"Well, not them." I murmur under my breath.

"So you were topping every time?" He asks after another drink.

"Yeah, except for when I lost my virginity." I felt a bit tipsy when talking now, but I needed to be up for this conversation.

"That's so fucked. I may be an asshole, but at least I don't need someone riding or topping me to get close to an orgasm." He shakes his head.

"It's fine, I kind of liked the idea of someone begging me to let them cum or call me mommy in bed." I say with a smirk.

He rolls his eyes, but has a true smile on his face like he was enjoying this. "Did you at least cum?"

Did I? I really didn't want to get into this part of the conversation.

"Afterwards." I shrug.

"..afterwards?" He furrows his brows.

"Yeah."

"What about when they ate you out? How about then?"

I formed a straight line looking over top of him at the bed liner, a fake smile on my lips as I sat up to reach for the bottle. My silence was the answer, and his eyes grew wide.

"(Y/N), you are killing me here!" He says in a state of tipsy shock. "Not once?"

"Not once."

"A girl like you deserves an orgasm that has your ugly little toes curling, baby."

I give a playfully, confused look. "Thanks?"

"You wasted all your time and energy on guys who don't know how to last longer than a few seconds, when you could've been out fucking whoever and having the best sex of your life."

"I didn't waste any time, not every guy thinks solely of sex." I chuckle.

"Sorry, forgot you are a hopeless romantic." He corrects with mockery.

"You don't?" I felt like an idiot asking.

"Not one bit." He says.

"Do I even want to know if you have ever been in a happy, healthy relationship?" I say with a small breathy laugh.

The thought of Hobie being in a relationship had me wanting to laugh and rip that idea up. He's controlling, a liar, his morals are different than the average human, he drinks too much and hates his life so he lives on the edge; adding another person who is supposed to love and care for you in that way makes me wonder if he ever thought about it or been in one.

"One." He answers short and quick.

I froze, mouth agape at his answer.

"Really–What?" I couldn't help the shocked sound that escaped my mouth.

He turned and gave me a displeased look at my reaction.

"Why are you so surprised?" He fired back on defense.

"I don't mean to offend you in any way, but you are kind of an ass. It's surprising to know someone wanted to actually be with you." I correct.

"Long time ago, I was a different man. That's all I'll get into."

"At least you are being honest." I slur out the last letter from the alcohol finally catching up.

"Tell me (Y/N), are you being honest?" He turns his head to look at me again, scooting a bit closer to me all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?"

"With everything you told me so far?" He asks out of curiosity, squinting his eyes like he was expecting me to be a liar all of a sudden.

"So you've really never been fucked good before?" He says quieter.

I roll my eyes, wishing he would drop this conversation altogether already.

"No, I haven't." I shake my fuzzy head.

"So no one ever sucked on your nipples while rubbing their thumb on your clit? Covering your mouth when they hear you getting too loud, hearing your whines and cries of pleasure mixed with a need to let you cum?"

I stayed silent, licking my lips as I looked around the room before letting my eyes naturally fall back onto his. His fingers came to trace around my jawline with a grin on his lips, but it fell when I moved to straddle him and push his arms above his head with a hum, examining his movements little by little like I naturally do when I get in a position like this. Drunk and horny.

"Nah, they usually are too busy begging for me to let them cum after I wrapped my hand around their cock, stroked them for a while with my thumb pressing down on their tip. It's always so cute when they get dumb in the brain and all they think about is me letting them cum, how good it would feel to cum in my hand after thirty minutes of just straight edging. Sometimes, if they are lucky, I'd let them put the tip in for satisfaction."

I pressed my chest onto his, my lips hovering over his before he flipped us back around, pressing a leg in between my legs to separate them to give him more room. "I like you more than I planned." He grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my lips as I chuckle against his lips.

His cold hand rested against my cheek, our foreheads touching with his cold ring on his thumb caressing my cheek.

"Can't say the same about you yet." I smirked against his lips, eyes shut to take in the drunk kiss.

Once he pulled away, I struggled to stay awake with my eyes opening and shutting in an attempt to sleep or force myself awake. My hand was in a tight fist as always, watching as Hobie glanced down and placed a hand on top of it.

"You can put your strength down. I'm sitting here with you on your hotel floor with a bottle of Hennessy, you don't need to say anything and you don't need to be afraid anymore." He mumbled on my lips, letting my eyes fall to allow myself to sleep.

But with the final hours of sleep taking over came the final words I heard from him.

"I like you more than I really did plan."